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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ican smell him. I take a deep breath in and hold it before my eyes are ready to open up and see him again. In this sleepy, warm haze, before I’m fully awake, I dare to dream about a golden sunset, sparking off the water as we sit on the edge of a jetty and watch the world. It’s a good memory.
My arm reaches across the bed to find him, but it comes up empty, and my mood plummets like falling off a cliff. I open my eyes, but I already have that sick, pulse-racing feeling in my chest.
“Jeremy?” I call to the deserted room, but I know he’s not here. I look around and remember the panic I felt when I waited for days for him to turn up. The rest of the memories cascade like a flip book, between good and bad and all the colours between.
And then I see it.
I snatch the paper from the side table and run my eyes over his words.
Dear Anna,
I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. For a lot of things, but mostly because I lied to you, even after saying that’s something I’d never do. I have been away. And I did seek you out. How could I not? I also told you that I wasn’t using. It’s nothing like before, but when I see you or when I’m with you, you make me feel out of control. You make my feelings explode, and I can’t fucking deal with that. I don’t think I ever have. You own my heart. That’s never been a lie. And I fear that will be the case until the day I die.
But as much as I might want to be with you, I can’t be around you. It’s not fair to either of us, and I can see that now. I thought I could handle myself, but I can’t. Until I can, and until I sort my own life out, I can’t be with you. Because I’m not the man you deserve.
Never doubt how much I love you. That has been the one constant. Only you.
“Only us.” I finish the words he spoke to me yesterday as I stare at the note and pick up the silver coin left next to it. It’s a sobriety chip — easy to recognise as I have my own collection. I was proud of them, as they showed what I’d accomplished. And his is just there, like a gift or an explanation, for me to take.
I don’t believe it.
How could he do this?
Was this just payback?
The questions swirl and cloud any kind of sense, but the feeling rising above all the others is how foolish I’ve been. It was stupid to be dragged back into the mess of us. Clouded by memories and the gaping hole he left, I fell into his trap, buying into his bullshit.
The pain pierces what’s left of my heart, shrivelling anything that was still beating for Jeremy Archer.
I pull my clothes back on as if gathering the pieces of myself, forcing them together. The itch to drown in my pity is there, under my skin and burning down my throat.
His house won’t be clean of drink, maybe even drugs, and I walk out of his room and head downstairs. The dining room always had a fancy drinks cabinet, and sure enough, next to the crystal decanter is a bottle. Tall and slender with frosted glass, concealing the clear liquid behind it. It doesn’t matter what it is, I want it.
My heart pounds in my chest as my hand reaches out and snatches it from the stand. It’s nearly full.
But it also triggers the memory of when we were in Cornwall when I felt betrayed and hurt and reached for a bottle to drown myself. My hand constricts around the collar, but I don’t open it. My hand tightens around it, and the chip Jeremy left for me feels like it’s burning in my palm.
I leave, past the shattered glass from the table in the hall, with hot, angry tears tracing down my face, and head to the only person who’s been there for me.
She opens the door and looks a little confused as I’m standing on the front step. “Why, oh, what happened?” She looks down and sees what’s in my hand. “Anna?” Her voice grows serious, but she’s snatched it from my grip before I can speak. As she takes it from me, it releases a huge amount of relief, and I crack with a sob that I’ve been holding in. I keep the small chip, clinging to it as a reminder of what I might lose if I give in. “Anna, talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.” She pulls me inside and shuts the door behind me.
She leaves me, marching off, and I know what she’s doing. She’s pouring the temptation down the drain. And I need her to.
I might have made it here without having a drop, but my resolve is only so strong.
“I didn’t, Mum.” My words are spoken between runs of cries and stuttered draws of breath as I try and catch it. “I didn’t touch it. I just clung to the bottle like my life depended on it. But I didn’t break.” I need her to know that last bit because it’s the most important thing right now. As much as I wanted to, I didn’t.
“What’s happened? I’ve not seen you like this since?—”
“Since Jeremy?” I finish for her, looking up at her through my cloudy eyes. I swipe the tears from my cheeks and take a deep breath. And another.
Her face shifts. She doesn’t like Jeremy, and I know his name will only be a bad thing for her.
“He’s back? You saw him.” She sounds shocked.
“Can I sit down?” I look at her and prepare for the disappointment. “Can I have a coffee? Strong.” I sniff.
