He was crying softly, his body shaking, his eyes still closed and his fingers laced through mine. I looked down the length of the water and realised the bubbles were now a thin layer of white and my body would be available for him to see. I suddenly felt vulnerable, so I raised my legs up to my chest, slugging the water over the rim of the bath as I did. We stayed silent for minutes, him still on the floor and me still shielding my body protectively. But our hands didn’t leave each other’s once.
‘Stand up. I want to dry you,’ he said as he took a single finger, helping me to stand. I let the thin foam drop lazily from me knowing that he was still staring at the floor.
‘Thanks for taking care of me,’ I said as he leant down to dry my feet, moving the towel up to my knees, avoiding places he used to seek with passion, stroking my sides with the towel until he stopped at my collarbone. His face was pained and he stepped back quickly, bumping into the sink with a thud. The towel dropped to the floor and he bent slightly, shaking his head in what appeared to be disbelief.
‘Abi,’ he said softly. He started to trace his rib with his thumb over his t-shirt and took in a small gasp of a breath. ‘I can’t believe it. This. I…’ His voice was choppy and he struggled to stand still.
‘I shouldn’t have done this. I can go,’ I said, picking up the towel off the floor and covering myself, unsure of what had caused the sudden change.
‘No, stay,’ he said firmly, moving closer to me, pushing my hair back so that it fell down my spine. He lifted his fingers and traced my tattoo. It was white, delicate, and placed with certainty on my shoulder just at the end of my collarbone.
Infinity.
The symbol I joined with our initials at each corner loop and used to end my letters.
‘My space. Our symbol,’ he whispered under the breath that was shaky and unsettled.
‘I needed something to remind me we were real,’ I replied, catching my hands with his, tracing the circles with our fingertips. ‘This was part of my hope function, a physical hope function. A reminder, I guess. And a hope that I would be able to show it to you one day.’ I looked down at his fingers still lingering on my skin. ‘There was no question where I would put it. I wanted it to look like a scar because scars tell a story, almost like a timeline on your skin, and you’re the biggest event in mine.’
He shook his head again and stood back, his fingers leaving my collarbone. I wanted to cry as he appeared to withdraw himself from all of me. He looked up, tugging at his ear lobe nervously as if he was considering his next move before he lifted up his t-shirt and pulled it over his head.
I saw it immediately. A matching tattoo. Not white like mine, but black, delicate, exactly the same swirl as the one on my collarbone but his was etched under his ribs.
‘I needed something to remind me we were real.’ He repeated my words shakily. ‘It was going to go across my heart but I thought that was too predictable for us. We’re so far from predictable,’ he smiled. ‘Under the ribs was the closest spot.’
I brought my hand up to my lips and laughed through a sob, not caring about the ugly noise that felt like it was coming from someone else. I knew that our connection was still there, bright and sparkling around us, but that ugly sob represented the knowledge we both felt like a burn. We knew that the sparkling attachment would never die.
We also knew there was nothing that either one of us could do about it.
Chapter Forty-Two
Jamie
Now.
There are parts of us we never show anyone, but I wanted Abi Sinclair to see them all.
She had arrived earlier in the day wearing a white baseball top with black sleeves that had complicated written across the front. Wasn’t that the truth? A vision in black Converse and some kind of slouchy jean that looked a size too big but still managed to frame her hips perfectly. She was decidedly more dressed down than me, and when I called her out on it, she said training days offered social workers the opportunity to dress as themselves. I so got that. Putting on a suit made my calves cramp as soon as I buttoned up the trousers. By the end of the day, I would quite happily step into my flat and undress in the hallway a second after closing the door.
I could readily admit that I preferred seeing her in her swimsuit and the towelling robe that wouldn’t keep shut. Sitting on the grass gave me a great look at her long, toned legs. Only Abi could rock her almost nakedness in the pelting rain sitting crossed legged on a soggy lawn. I’d fought the urge to hold her. I’d wrestled the urge to kiss her. I’d lost the battle to keep away from her. I had fucking bathed her, and now she was lying in my bed.
I watched her sleep; she was exhausted and had fallen asleep in my arms almost immediately, allowing everything I had memorised to come back to life in front of me. I took her in, every inch, knowing this would be my only chance. My hand gravitated towards her hip. I didn’t realise how much I had missed that hip, the sharp bone against my fingers, the curve of her skin just asking to be held.
When we were together, I always looked for an excuse to wake her up in the middle of the night just to talk to her. I’d hated that sleep took her away from me. I would wrap my arm around the ticklish spot just beneath her ribcage. I would whisper how much the world had improved since she’d walked into my life. When she’d stir, I’d feel a sense of victory. Not only would she be mine again, but I’d also know she felt the same when she didn’t nudge me off the bed in anger after I’d wake her up. She’d smile. Hold me tighter. Kiss my neck or reward me with a full stroke down my cock.
Blindsided. Always.
I didn’t do that tonight, though. I didn’t want to wake her. I wanted to take her all in. She’d added a piercing to the top of her ear and had three earrings now instead of just two. They suited her. The shine of the diamonds glistened in the light from above the bed that I couldn’t bring myself to turn off. If I had, it would have left us in darkness and I wouldn’t have been able to study her.
Or remember her.
She had a smudge of mascara underneath her left eye. It made me wonder about the number of times she had smudged her eye make up because of me.
She had removed her nose piercing but I could still see where it had been, a pinprick of a white scar in its place. I liked it. It represented memories that left scars and told stories about a life before.
Like a tattoo. A tattoo we shared. I should have known. We probably had it done on the same date at exactly the same time.
She allowed me to trace it with my fingers for a while. It wasn’t sexual, even though I still felt that network of nerves fizzing between us. We were reconnecting, pretending and losing ourselves in each other after such a long time apart.
After an hour, she woke up with a smile but slowly began withdrawing herself. I went into her room and brought her bag through. It was still full where she hadn’t had the chance to unpack.
She asked me to turn so I couldn’t see her get dressed.
I refused.
She smiled.
I laughed nervously.
She got dressed painfully slowly.
Painfully for me.
I told her that I knew every inch of her and would never forget. She cried so quietly she was almost still, apart from the small rise and fall of her shoulders. We stayed wrapped in each other, her standing, me sitting on the bed pushing my head into her chest while she wrapped her fingers through my hair, loving me.
I shouldn’t have let her stay.
She had spotted the scar on my hand as I gripped the notch of her hip. She said she hadn’t seen it before, which shocked me. I had grown so used to it now that it was as much a part of me as anything else. She didn’t know anything about it. How much time had passed us by? When I admitted that I’d punched a wall after imagining her being touched by another man, she laughed heartily as she disappeared into the bathroom saying my self-inflicted injury had made her feel slightly better about my status as a married man.
‘I’m ready.’ She walked out of the b
athroom, making me jump out of my thoughts and turn to her. She was stunning. She had dried her hair so that it had a natural curl and it was flowing across her shoulders. She had on her slouchy jeans with a black crop top and heels. My eyes fell to them. I was always partial to heels.
‘You look beautiful,’ I said as I cleared my throat.
‘Thanks. You look scruffy in a put together way. I like the look,’ she said, taking me in with her eyes. I was wearing a blue suit jacket over a lighter blue shirt with black jeans and white trainers. ‘I’m yet to see the socks. They always did it for me,’ she laughed. I immediately pulled up my trousers at the knee to show her the brown, purple and black stripes. I felt fucking amazing because I had again caused that hearty laugh I didn’t know I craved until now.
Chapter Forty-Three
Abi
Now.
‘Your stubble is longer. It’s not quite reached full beard level, but it’s almost there.’ I was noticing so much about him that I couldn’t help but point it all out like some kind of ex-girlfriend commentator.
‘I still hate shaving. Such a waste of a morning when I could be doing something else,’ he said smiling.
We had taken full advantage of the free bar and were now slow dancing to a band that had been put on especially for the evening’s entertainment. Elle had gone back to her room to call Ben, but not before dragging me to the toilets to remind me of Jamie’s marital status, almost bursting a vein in her forehead when I told her about what had happened earlier. Kate was deep in conversation with some of the team at a table in the corner. I could tell by the look on her face that she wanted to escape, but she would never do that. She always put others first. I also suspected Elle had asked her to keep an eye on me. Kate’s nervous glances screamed of it.
‘I’ve noticed a few looks being thrown our way,’ I said, nodding my head in the direction of the bar where Rob was standing staring at us.
‘He can fucking look,’ Jamie said, pulling me tighter towards him. I was sure I could feel the curve of a smile against my cheek. I definitely felt the movement of his arm across my back, which I assumed was a fuck off wave in Rob’s direction.
‘Ignore him,’ I said, pulling my head back to drink Jamie in, still not quite believing that he was here. ‘I just want to hold you again and pretend that you’re mine for a few minutes.’
‘You don’t need to pretend. I’ve always been yours; always will be.’
He couldn’t take those words away now. They were part of me and all I had left, even if I wasn’t sure if he was telling me the truth.
He’s married now. Don’t forget that.
I felt his phone vibrate through his jacket, so I immediately pulled back like it had burnt the space where I had been pressed against him.
‘I need to make a call,’ he said, not meeting my eyes as a look of sheer panic washed over him.
‘Your wife?’ He nodded in acknowledgement, bursting the big bubble of our imaginary world right in front of me, drenching my skin and leaving a bad taste in my mouth.
‘I have to call her. She isn’t well,’ he said as he attempted to run his hands across my arms.
‘You’d better call her then,’ I said as I started to retreat.
He stayed for a few seconds watching my face fall and studying my arms as I clasped them around myself in comfort before he left me on the dance floor. He darted away so quickly I barely saw him stop at the bar to get what looked like a whiskey before he headed outside.
‘Where’s your latest conquest gone?’ I could feel Rob’s boozy breath on the back of my neck as he laughed bitterly. I turned to see him dishevelled and rocking from one foot to the other.
‘You’re drunk,’ I said in disgust.
‘And you need a good fuck. So uptight.’ He put his hand on my shoulder. It was damp and clammy. I shrugged it off and walked towards the lifts, not sure if it was him or Jamie I wanted to get away from more.
‘My room number is twenty-seven if you change your mind. You know how you get after a few drinks,’ he shouted as the lift doors closed. I didn’t recognise him or the shit that was being thrown from his mouth. I tried to remember what had led me to his bed. There must have been some redeeming qualities. He was attractive in a not Jamie way, but then again, so was everyone. My one-night conquests all had one purpose—to forget Jamie and feel the power of knowing I would be the one to decide if I would see them again. Now everything about Rob made me want to scratch my skin off.
The key shook in my hand as I tried to open my door, nervous that Rob would follow me in the next lift. I crashed into my room, suddenly very conscious that it was too much space just for me. I leapt onto the double bed. I sat on my knees in the middle of the duvet and called Gem.
‘Hey, how’s it going?’ Her familiar voice instantly calmed me.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’ve just had an email to say my new heels are being delivered tomorrow, so I’ve abandoned all of my plans in favour of sitting by the door all day.’
‘Oh that’s great. Amazing. Yay! I slept with Jamie.’
‘Shut the fuck up,’ she replied.
‘Joke. Well, not actually a joke. We shared a bed as we napped and I definitely felt some lazy wood poking my bum cheek.’
‘What are you doing? You’re too magnificent to be the other woman.’
‘Just talk to me for a bit. Don’t talk about him. Just make me laugh,’ I said as I flopped back onto the bed, kicking off my heels and undoing the top button of my jeans.
Gem must have talked me to sleep because I woke with a start as a loud knock broke my dream. I removed the phone from my chest where I must have dropped it as I’d fallen asleep. Peeking through the spyhole, I watched him pacing on the other side of the door before I put on the chain and opened it as far as it would allow.
He stopped pacing and met my eyes with a heated stare. ‘I want to fuck you so much but I can’t because it wouldn’t be right. But if you say you want me too, I’ll leave her. I’ll leave my wife.’ He was so bloody drunk.
‘You can’t do that.’
‘I fucking can. She’s not you. She’ll never be you,’ he said, losing his balance and swaying into the wall behind him.
‘Don’t do that.’
‘I’ll ring her now.’ He struggled to get his hand in his pocket, missing it repeatedly. I pushed the door and took off the safety chain.
‘Where’s your key?’ I asked on a sigh as I put his arm around my shoulder, literally carrying him a few paces down to his room. He opened his jacket and started laughing like a switch had been flicked on at the back of his neck—wild, loud, unabashed. Drunk. He fiddled around for the key, still not quite managing to co-ordinate his fingers. I brushed his hand away and found it in his inside pocket. I let him lean against my back as I fumbled to open his door. I heard the lift arrive and when the doors opened, Rob got out. He froze on the spot as he watched us both disappear into Jamie’s room.
Jamie was still leaning against my back, his arms now draped around my front. I spun and dropped him backwards onto the bed. He didn’t move but watched me as I bent down and removed his shoes, pulling him forward by his hands to take off his jacket before heading into the bathroom to get him a glass of water. I spotted the bin under the dressing table and kicked it to the side of the bed. ‘In case of vomit emergencies,’ I told him.
‘You should be my wife. Look how you look after me. She doesn’t care.’ He grabbed me by my wrist. ‘She only wants me for my sperm.’ A high-pitched chuckle left his mouth before he turned onto his side, scrunching the pillow up in his fist and closing his eyes.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, confused by his words but hoping they didn’t mean what I could only assume they did. ‘Jamie?’ He didn’t reply. He was out cold.
I tidied around for a few minutes and decided to nip back to my room to fetch him some ibuprofen for the hangover that would kick him in the morning. He’d always suffered from migraines, and alcohol was on
e of the triggers, but he needed to be with it for his seminar. As I opened the door, Rob was leaving his room at the other end of the corridor.
‘Well, well. Looks like my offer for a bit of fun tonight is pretty redundant now,’ Rob smirked as he walked towards me. ‘I didn’t think complicated was your style, Abi.’
‘Don’t jump to conclusions. I’m getting him some painkillers for a migraine and then I’m going to bed. In my own room. Alone.’
‘I should have guessed what was going on. You’re always trailing behind him like a lovesick teenager.’ He smiled and moved in closer to whisper into my ear. ‘My guess is he couldn’t resist your charms, and let’s be honest, who could? You’re hot and fuck like a champion.’
I pushed him backwards so that he slammed into the wall behind him. He stayed there all splayed out and protesting like I’d stuck a knife in him. ‘You meant nothing, Rob. It was a couple of fucks. Half-hearted fucks at that. Now, mind your own business and leave me alone.’
‘Oh, come on now. This isn’t any way to leave it. You see, Abi, I happen to know that you’re fucking a married man. A married man who also happens to be your boss. I’m sure this will make very interesting information for our service manager. Don’t you? Or maybe Jamie’s wife would be more interested.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I’m not against the idea of telling his wife, but I am toying with the idea of speaking to Luke Simms Monday morning. I’m sure, as the new service manager, he would be very interested to know you’re fucking the boss.’
Let Me Be Your Hope (Music and Letters Series Book 2) Page 21