After the End

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After the End Page 2

by Natasha Preston


  Don’t touch her.

  Tilly stops short and says something.

  They haven’t embraced. They would have if they were together.

  My lungs fill with air. She’s not going to be single forever, and she doesn’t owe me anything, but, Jesus, I hope she stays single until I’m gone. I don’t know how I would cope with seeing her with someone and wishing it were me.

  I would give anything to change that night—and not just for me and Tilly.

  Greg now laughs at something Tilly said.

  Every muscle in my body screams to go out there and intervene. But it’s not my place. It’s never been my place. Besides, she told me to stay away from her.

  I don’t really know how I’m supposed to do that, as we live next door to each other, but if that’s what she wants, then I will do everything I can to make it happen. I would rather be in agony from being so close yet so far than have her feeling one ounce of pain from seeing me.

  Four years I have spent of loving someone I never really had.

  I’ve not told anyone either. I’ve kept it inside because it’s pathetic. Stanley and I don’t talk about Tilly. To be fair, we don’t talk much at all. We’ve never verbally agreed on anything, but we both know she’s off-limits. I think he suspects that I like her, so he won’t bring her into a conversation. He knows that night—the night he chose to drive over the limit, and Robbie and I let him—that any chance I had of starting something with Tilly died.

  Greg raises his hand and gets in his car. Tilly starts to back away, and that’s when I see the tendons in my wrists poking out of where I’m gripping the edge of the wall by the window so hard.

  I step back and drop my arms. She disappears from my view, and my gut twists. I’ve missed her so much. Looking at the pictures she uploads on Instagram, the one place she hasn’t banned me from, has in no way prepared me for seeing her in the flesh or diminished how much it makes me crave her.

  I turn around, ready to get back to work, when someone hammers on my door. It’s Jack’s knock; he always was impatient.

  Jack is in a relationship with Tilly’s friend, Hanna. I’ve wanted to ask him about Tilly so many times over the years, but I’ve forced myself to hang back. She probably wouldn’t want anyone telling me about her life, and I don’t want to put Jack in that position.

  I head out to open the front door. Sure enough, it’s Jack.

  “Nice of you to tell me you’re back, fucker,” he says, scowling and running his hand through his light hair as he pushes past me. “You should have let me take care of the house; it’s dusty as fuck.”

  “Good to see you, too, mate.”

  The house is covered in four years’ worth of dust. We had a pipe burst a year ago, which was repaired by a friend of the family, but the flooring in the kitchen and living room needs replacing, the cabinets are broken, and there’s mould on the walls that needs to be treated before I can redecorate.

  “Why didn’t you tell me, man? I had to find out through Hanna that you’re back now.”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I was kind of hoping to get in, sort this house out, and leave.”

  “You didn’t think we’d run into each other?”

  “I would have told you eventually.”

  “Just because Hanna is friends with Tilly doesn’t mean you have to keep your distance from me.”

  “You’ve visited me.”

  “Yeah, where you live now, but we’ve not hung out here. What are you doing tonight?”

  I raise both hands up, gesturing around the room. I’m going to be working pretty much flat-out to get the house done.

  He sighs. “You’re allowed to leave the house, Linc.”

  “I know, and I will.”

  “How are your parents and Stanley?”

  “They’re fine,” I reply.

  I’m surprised he mentioned Stanley. We don’t often talk about him. I don’t know if he hates Stanley, but his usual silence speaks volumes.

  “You’re going to need help with this place. Why didn’t your parents hire anyone?”

  “For four years, they’ve been paying the mortgage on this place as well as rent on the place they have now. They can’t afford to hire anyone.”

  “Why didn’t they sell years ago?” he asks.

  “I told them to, but they wanted to wait and see if they could come back. But they don’t feel Stanley will ever be welcome back in this town, so they decided a few weeks ago to sell.”

  He clears his throat. “It’s not up to anyone else where Stanley lives, and it sure as hell isn’t your parents’ fault that he made a shitty decision.”

  “It wasn’t just him though, was it? Robbie and I should have known he’d had more than a couple of beers and stopped him. We could have called a taxi. Hell, we could have called my parents or Robbie’s parents. But we didn’t. We all got in that car. Fuck, Robbie lost his life, and we put everyone else on the road that night in danger. We did that. How could we move back here?”

  My heart plummets to my feet every time I think about how fucking stupid we were that night. I should have done more.

  We’d been in a pub garden for most of the evening. Robbie and I were drinking beer. Stanley had a few before switching to Coke. We ate after, hours after. He should have been fine. Only I didn’t find out until after the accident that, every time he’d gone for a round, he would add rum to his Coke.

  Robbie and I didn’t know the extent of his drinking, but that doesn’t excuse our part. We shouldn’t have let him drive, knowing he’d had any alcohol at all.

  He blows out a breath. “I get it, mate, but it’s not quite the same.”

  “That doesn’t make it okay.”

  Nothing will ever make that night okay. There is no do-over. Robbie is gone, and I just have to live with the crippling guilt.

  “You want to meet up tonight?” he asks, changing the subject.

  I shake my head. “I need to make a dent in this.”

  “Fine, have it your way. We’ll order in and … work.”

  “Jack, you don’t need to help.”

  He holds his hand up. “I’m helping. Have you seen Tilly yet?”

  The sound of her name being spoken aloud is sweet torture.

  “Yeah.”

  “She cool?”

  I watch him, trying to gauge how much he knows about Tilly’s feelings toward me being back here.

  “She doesn’t want to see me,” I reply, forcing out the words as they slice along my vocal cords.

  “I’m sure it’s just the shock of you being back, you know?”

  No, I think it’s because I had a hand in the death of her brother.

  “Whatever,” I say. “I’ll do what she wants and leave as soon as I can. I don’t want to make anything more difficult for her or her parents.”

  “Tilly is one of the most forgiving people I know, Linc. Don’t write her off yet.”

  I walk into the kitchen, and he follows.

  “Do you want a drink?” I ask.

  “Coffee, please. Do you want me to talk to Hanna?”

  I look over my shoulder. “No. I want you to leave it. Tilly and I haven’t talked properly in four years.”

  “But you want to though, right?” He frowns. “You guys were close.”

  “Not that close.”

  He watches me for a second longer than is comfortable, his dark brown eyes searching for the truth.

  Shortly after he got together with Hanna, Jack asked me once if I liked Tilly as more than a friend, and I told him no. At the time, I wasn’t sure. When he asked, we hadn’t been hanging around each other for too long. I found Tilly attractive—I’d always thought she was pretty—but I didn’t have feelings for her back then. Or so I thought.

  “All right. I miss our group, you know?”

  Oh, I know.

  I dip my eyes. “Yeah, I do, too.”

  Filling up the kettle, I flick it on and get two mugs from the cupboard. Most of our things are still here�
�we bought a lot new when we moved—but I obviously had to pick up food on the way here.

  Out of everyone I hung around with, I always enjoyed being with Tilly, Jack, Hanna, Ian, and Mel the most.

  “How are things with Hanna?” I ask, turning around and leaning back against the counter.

  He smiles. “Good. You’ll have to come see our place while you’re in town.”

  “That’d be great.”

  Jack and Hanna bought a place together last year, and he has been inviting me over since they moved in. I didn’t want to come back here, but now, I have no choice but to visit. It would be good to see his house.

  “Where are you living now? Last time we spoke, you were back with your parents.”

  “Jesus, that’s an experience not to be repeated. Never move back home after you’ve left, even for a short period. The second I leave, I’m finding a flat. I can’t be there much longer.”

  He nods. “I wouldn’t mind moving back home. Hanna refuses to do my washing.”

  Chuckling, I start making the coffee as the kettle clicks off.

  I look up out of the kitchen window, and Tilly is outside again. Her stunning amber eyes lock with mine for a second, punching me in the gut, before she spins around and gets into her car.

  I suck in a breath.

  She’s going to kill me.

  3

  Tilly

  Lincoln has stayed true to his word, and for the past three days, I haven’t run into him at all. Nothing. Not even outside his house. I don’t know if he leaves it, but if he does, it must be in the dead of night.

  The fact that I’ve not physically seen him doesn’t stop me from seeing him everywhere though. Figuratively. There are so many memories of him all around. As kids, we all played outside in the street. He’s all over town—in the café where groups of our friends would get milkshakes and the park where we’d hang out in the summer. The forest that I can just about see in the distance from my house is where we walked dozens of times.

  When there was no threat of running into him, it was easy to ignore where he’d been. Now, the ghosts of him around town could turn to flesh.

  I work at the local restaurant where we hung out just four years ago. I made it through my A Levels, finishing just six months after Robbie’s death, but I didn’t go on to university. Now, I have to figure out my next move.

  Do I apply to uni like I’ve always wanted and study Criminal Law?

  That would mean leaving my parents.

  I tie my black apron around my waist and head out into the restaurant. My best friend, Hanna, also works here. She’s on a gap year from uni after finding the second year really tough. She’s going back next September to continue the nursing course.

  “Quick, which one?” Hanna says, nodding to a table of three guys by the window.

  Since the restaurant’s makeover, making it more modern with avocado almost in every dish and a cocktail list that took months to memorise, it attracts a slightly older clientele than teens. We would have hated the change four years ago. But it’s still called The Café, paying homage to its roots.

  It’s misleading, but it’s kind of iconic to the town, and since we don’t get many people passing through, the owners decided it wouldn’t hurt business. It didn’t. With the added bonus of serving alcohol, business has been better than ever.

  I lean on the small bar and take a look. “Er, none of them.”

  “You’re no fun this morning.”

  Tilting my head, I glare. “Well, Linc came home, and then Greg turned up at my house, playing the white knight.”

  She turns up her nose. “Tell me you’re not starting to fall for Greg.”

  “No, but lay off him, okay? He’s been a good friend.”

  “He’s a good friend because he wants to be a good boyfriend. You need to cut him loose.”

  Must we have this conversation every single month?

  “Hanna, I’ve been very clear on where we stand.”

  “Clear with me or clear with him?”

  Slapping her arm, I shake my head and walk past her to my section where someone has just sat down.

  “Tilly, wait!” Hanna grabs my wrist. “I’ll take that table.”

  “What? Why do you …”

  He turns, and that’s when I see why she wants to take it.

  Lincoln Reid.

  “It’s cool, babe. I’ve got this,” she says, pulling me back a step.

  “No,” I say, tugging my wrist from her grip. “That’s my section.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  Frowning, I disagree, “Actually, I do.”

  She takes a step back and grabs a cloth to wipe the bar down. “Go get ’im.”

  I’ve got this.

  Rounding the bar, I walk confidently to Linc’s table and hold up my notepad. He looks up and stills.

  “What can I get you?” I ask, giving him the brightest smile that I can muster while my heart flips over.

  “I-I didn’t know you worked here,” he stammers.

  I close my eyes for a second. Can we please just get through this?

  “That’s okay. Do you want a drink while you decide on what to order?”

  “This place has changed.”

  Lowering my notepad, I meet his gaze. “Do you miss the old chipped tables and aqua-coloured seats?”

  The corner of his mouth kicks in a smirk. “A little actually. It does look better now.”

  It does. Now, it’s super modern with clean lines and a black-and-orange theme, and the old counter is now a shiny black bar.

  I bite my lip.

  “Do you want me to leave?” he asks.

  Yes.

  “No, it’s fine.”

  “I said I would keep my distance.”

  “You didn’t know I worked here.”

  “I thought you would be in a big city, living in a penthouse and working some high-flying career in law.”

  His words feed the failure inside me.

  “Nope, not yet,” I snip.

  “Sorry.” As he takes a breath, his eyes close, like he’s in pain. “I’ll have a coffee for now, thank you.”

  “You don’t want a beer, Linc?”

  His eyes, blue and dancing, snap to mine. The use of his nickname yet again. It’s not a fluke. I’d stopped using it after the accident. He would wince every time I called him Lincoln.

  Apparently, that’s over.

  He frowns. “Tilly, it’s ten in the morning. Do you serve alcohol this early?”

  “Yes, but not often. I’ll go and grab your coffee.”

  He opens his mouth, but I spin and run before he can say anything else. I already need some space from him. Maybe I should have let Hanna take the table.

  “How did that go?” she asks, placing two mugs under the coffee machine.

  I grab an oversize mug. “It was fine. Weird, I guess.”

  She takes a quick glance over her shoulder. “He’s looking at you.”

  My face heats, but I don’t raise my eyes. I already know that; I can feel it. I’m not sure where his head is, but I can’t see us being able to go back to the casual friendship we had before.

  We were never mega close, so I don’t know why I feel like I’ve lost something there. I guess because the accident marked the end of our extended group. Things haven’t been the same. Jack and Ian are still in contact with Linc, and they’re friends, but Hanna and Mel never mention anything. They both respect the fact that their boyfriends are still friends with him, but they no longer are.

  Not that I ever asked them to stop talking to him, but sisterhood solidarity and all that.

  I finish making the coffee and go back for round two.

  “Thank you,” he says as I place his drink on the table.

  “Are you ready to order?”

  “Tilly,” he breathes.

  I don’t want to look directly at him.

  “Please.”

  Against my better judgment, I do look up. His eyes are pained, l
ike it physically hurts to look at me, and my stomach twists.

  “What do you want, Linc?”

  “To reverse time. To do something to stop you from looking so sad now.”

  The ache in my stomach grows.

  “What do you want to eat?”

  Sighing, he hands me the menu. “All-day breakfast, please.”

  I take the menu and nod. “Okay.”

  Hanna watches me as I walk past her and into the back to give the chef Linc’s order rather than passing it through the hatch. I do just that. Then, rather than going back into the restaurant, I go to the staff room.

  Pressing my palms against the wall, I close my eyes and try to breathe through the tightening in my chest.

  Breathe slow.

  I stay like that for a minute until Hanna comes in.

  “Oh God,” she says softly. “What did he say?”

  Shaking my head, I stand up straight. “That he would change things if he could. I knew that already. It’s just that I haven’t heard him say it in so long.”

  She wraps her arms around me and squeezes a bit too hard.

  “Thanks, Han. I’m okay now, I promise,” I lie.

  Pulling back, she raises her black eyebrows. “You sure?”

  “Yeah. We’d better get back out there.”

  “Are you really sure? I can cover for a while. It’s pretty slow this morning.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m not hiding from Linc.” I swallow.

  “Do you think that maybe you should have a conversation with him? Like a proper one about everything, if he’s sticking around?”

  Shrugging, I reach for the door handle “Maybe, but I don’t even know where to begin with that.” Or what my parents would think.

  “In your own time, Tills.” Hanna follows me back into the restaurant.

  There are never very many customers in on Wednesday morning, so it’s always a pretty easy shift. Clearly, the universe has other ideas for me on this particular Wednesday though because Linc is silently watching me.

  His gaze burns into my skin, sending my pulse into a frenzy.

  Maybe I remind him of that day, too. I would never diminish the horror that he went through just because he’s partly to blame for the whole thing. He watched his friend die.

 

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