The First Touch of Sunlight

by Len Webster

  the

  first

  touch

  of

  sunlight

  From the bestselling author of Sometimes Moments

  LEN WEBSTER

  Books by Len Webster

  The First Touch of Sunlight

  The Sometimes Moments Collection

  Sometimes Moments (Sometimes Moments #1)

  Sometimes, Forever (Sometimes Moments #2)

  Sometimes. Honestly? Always (Sometimes Moments #3) Coming Soon

  Thirty-Eight Series

  Forever Starts Today (Thirty-Eight #.5) Coming Soon

  Thirty-Eight Days (Thirty-Eight #1)

  Thirty-Eight Reasons (Thirty-Eight #2)

  What We’ll Leave Behind (Thirty-Eight #2.5)

  What You Left Behind (Thirty-Eight #3)

  All We Have (Thirty-Eight #4)

  With The First Goodbye (Thirty-Eight #5) Coming Soon

  With The Last Goodbye (Thirty-Eight #6) Coming Soon

  The Science of Unrequited Series

  The Theory of Unrequited (The Science of Unrequited #1) Coming Soon

  The Hypothesis of Unrequited (The Science of Unrequited #2) Coming Soon

  The First Touch of Sunlight

  My Josh. His Beth. Someone else’s Meredith.

  Destined to fall apart before their lips have even touched,

  Samuel Michaels and Meredith Driessen have seven years of almosts between them.

  Seven years ago, a night by the river would bind them together. Seven years ago, Sam’s entire world blew up before his eyes.

  His only saviour …

  Meredith.

  She saved his life, exposing him to what it could be like to be with her. But that wasn’t Life’s plan. Because deep down, his secrets will destroy their lives and separate them. His secrets will break both their hearts until the day he finds her standing on the edge of the train platform, completely lost.

  He did this to her.

  And Sam knows that if he doesn’t go to her, he’ll lose her forever.

  Will seven years be enough to mend their scars? Or will the secrets they both keep deny them once more?

  One thing is certain …

  You may never know tomorrow’s sunlight if you’re drowning in yesterday’s storm.

  A happy man has no past, while an unhappy man has nothing else.

  Richard Flanagan, The Narrow Road to The Deep North.

  For Danielle Woodside.

  For loving me as an author and then loving me as the person that I am.

  For always being more than I deserve.

  I love you more, my dear friend.

  Thank you for letting me be part of your life.

  chapter one

  SAM

  Seven years ago

  It’s my fault.

  It’s always my fault.

  Samuel Michaels picked up the bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the passenger seat. It was lighter than before he got in the car. His mother wouldn’t be happy. Disappointed wouldn’t even come close. She couldn’t look him in the eye. Not after what had happened.

  Because of Beth.

  Because of what they had done.

  They destroyed what they knew.

  They destroyed how they lived.

  Their lives would now change.

  He uncapped the bottle of whiskey and brought it to his lips. He paused and stared out at the river. It had started raining almost ten minutes ago, and in those ten minutes, his phone had rung a handful of times. Looking out the windshield, he was thankful the moonlight aided in his view of the river. Sam could just make out the raging waves. A sigh had left his lips before he threw back the alcohol and felt the burning on its way down his throat. Whiskey had never been his drink. The way the liquor scorched waves in his stomach was one he hated, but for Sam, he needed strong. He didn’t want weak beer.

  He wanted to be numb.

  To forget.

  The ringing of his phone had him returning the bottle back to the seat next to him and picking it up. He saw Phillip Hall’s name flash on the screen—no doubt, his mother had called his best friend. Sam declined the call and threw his phone next to the empty bottle. It’d been over an hour since he’d run out of his house to his car. He drove to the bottle shop and then to the riverbank. It was too dark for anyone to notice his car, not unless they came close.

  Sam curled his fingers tightly around the leather-wrapped steering wheel and let his forehead rest on it. He wouldn’t cry. He promised himself he wouldn’t. But the flash of Beth’s trembling lip had him sobbing. It had been a mistake. She had said that months ago, and now, that same mistake had caught up to them.

  The alcohol had finally kicked in, and he no longer felt. Instead, he relished the numbness consumed by his body. He smiled and then belted out a heavy laugh.

  “What the fuck has she done?” He leant back into the driver’s seat, and his hand searched the door for the handle.

  The moment he found it, he opened the door and fell out of his Jeep, landing on his hands and knees. Sam ran his palms through the wet grass and rolled onto his back, laughing. Once he was able to get back on his feet, Sam lifted his arms up and down as if he were flying and stomped towards the riverbank. He let his feet sink, even squishing his shoes into the sloshy mud. He laughed like a child, continuing to march in the dark night.

  When he had reached the edge of the bank, he watched the water rush past him. With the moonlight beaming from above, he was just able to see the river current drowning a log.

  “I want to be that log,” Sam said as he bent down and unfastened his shoes. He removed them and placed them on the wet ground. Moisture seeped through his socks and hit his skin, causing his toes to wiggle.

  “Sam?”

  “Can’t save me,” he said to the sweet and gentle voice. “I need to be the log… I need to die.” He closed his eyes and leant forward, intending to fall into the cold water and never resurface.

  To be free.

  The impact of the water had him opening his eyes. The current was strong, trying to force him under. His instincts had him fighting against what he had wished for. Water rushed into his mouth, and he swallowed it for air, choking him. His arms fought against the strength of the river.

  “Dutch, stay!” the voice commanded.

  Sam turned his head to see her. She was on her stomach, reaching for his hand. His heart had drowned at the sight of her. The look of determination on her face was one he could not miss. Sam paddled—not to reach her but to get away from her.

  To die quickly.

  “Sam!” she screamed and reached out further, almost falling in.

  I can’t let her die.

  The sight of her instantly sobered him.

  Not her.

  Sam pulled his hand up from the water in time for her to take hold of it. He kicked his legs to get closer to the bank and to stop her from falling in. When he was close enough, she had tried to pull him out of the water, but Sam had fought her. He just wanted her to fall back on the ground.

  “Stop fighting me!” she demanded loudly, tugging on his hand.

  A wave hit him, dragging him under and pulling her entire arm into the water. It was a miracle he hadn’t dragged her with him. He broke through the surface, and his eyes met hers. It was too dark to see the colour, but he already knew they were a bright blue. Not dark enough to resemble the ocean, but not light like crystal clear water. The colour was somewhere between.

  Sam coughed, trying to breathe in air. “My life isn’t worth much. Let me g
o, Meredith.”

  Can’t let her die.

  Not her.

  She gripped his hand tighter, as if she knew he was moments away from letting the current take him.

  Meredith blinked once, and the fear in her eyes left her. The determination had returned along with her tears.

  Meredith Driessen was crying.

  Because of him.

  Because she thought he was about to die.

  “Your life is important to me, Sam. The moment you give up, I’m following you,” Meredith said.

  Don’t save me, Meredith.

  His heart squeezed in a way it had never done before. He held Meredith’s hand tighter, his lifeline.

  “You’d …”

  Don’t let me live a life where I want you.

  Meredith nodded. “Yes, Sam, I would. I wouldn’t hesitate.”

  Don’t let me love you.

  She wrapped her other hand around his arm and gave him a small smile. “Let me save you, Sam.”

  Let me drown, Meredith.

  chapter two

  SAM

  Present

  “Morning, Samuel,” Lily greeted as she handed out The Age newspaper to him.

  Sam tucked the folder into his briefcase and took the paper from the nineteen-year-old train station shop attendant.

  “Thanks, Lil,” he said and gave her the ten-dollar note.

  “How’s working for the Minister for Roads going?” Lily asked as she brushed her long black hair into a low ponytail and fastened it. Then she processed the sale of the newspaper through the register.

  Once she was done, he shrugged and collected his change. “It’s government. It’s hell on Earth.”

  “Why don’t you run as a minister or something?”

  “Got to win the seat for our area first. Then it’s up to Ronald, the party leader, to decide minister portfolios. I’d be eighty before he ever notices me.”

  Lily leant forward and squinted at him. “Politics is stupid. You’d make a great minister. They need ‘em young. How can the young voters feel like they’re being heard or understood if a young representative doesn’t, you know, represent?”

  Sam chuckled. “It’d be a long time before I’m a minister, Lily. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “You make politics interesting, I suppose.” She shrugged. “Isn’t Parliament out? Why are you heading to the city this early?”

  “Just because Parliament’s out doesn’t mean my job stops. Only means the offices are dead, and I can get some work done.” He waved goodbye to Lily as he walked towards the platform. He tapped his Myki card on the sensor and headed over to the green-painted steel bench towards the end of the platform. Sam sat down, placed his briefcase by his feet, and opened the newspaper. He decided against looking at the politics section. Instead, he skimmed over the current events until he read the article about the bus that had crashed on the freeway due to faulty brakes. Luckily, there were no fatalities. Then he read about the latest sex scandal that involved a footballer.

  The sudden cool gust of wind made reading the newspaper difficult. He hated July. Always had. When he had started working as an intern for the Australian Labor Party, he never imagined he’d be the Minister for Roads’ speechwriter. Sam turned to the finance section of the paper, hoping to waste some time before his 8:05 a.m. train arrived. The cold temperature and rain drizzle had him wishing he’d stayed home instead.

  He heard the sound of the electronic doors open, signalling another commuter had stepped onto the platform. Sam stared at the picture of the Treasurer at a summit in New York. He pondered how far he’d take his political career, wondering if he could be Foreign Minister, the Treasurer, or even the Prime Minister of Australia. Sam shook his head and closed the newspaper. He hadn’t even made it to State Parliament, let alone Federal. The reality of those thoughts was years away, nothing a twenty-five-year-old could achieve just yet. He would need a lot of party backing.

  Sam glanced up from the newspaper to see someone standing over the yellow line and close to the edge of the platform. He squinted at her and everything in him halted.

  Air fled.

  Heart ached and, more than likely, heart yearned.

  “Meredith,” he breathed.

  It had been years since he’d said her name. He had thought of her, wondered and hoped for her. She had been someone he loved. She had been someone he let go. Sam set the paper down next to him and stared at her. Meredith wore a light blue dress and a white cardigan. Her blonde hair curled towards the ends, and her hands formed tight balls at her side. She didn’t look his way, and he hoped she wouldn’t. He hoped they’d get on different carriages and get off at different stops on the line.

  Meredith stared at the yellow wildflowers that grew by the tracks. She looked lost in her own world, unaware of the freezing wind her dress wouldn’t protect her from.

  He kept his eyes on her. It had been years since they spoke.

  It had been years since his heart felt whole.

  Two trains had passed.

  Meredith never flinched.

  She just stood there.

  Sam had missed two trains staring at Meredith.

  It had been twenty minutes since the last, and his eyes never left the sight of her. Once the boom gates sounded, Meredith leant forward. That was when he knew. Sam stood up from the bench. He didn’t run. He didn’t dash to her side. He simply put one foot in front of the other. When Sam stood next to her, he said nothing.

  Meredith turned and looked his way for the first time in seven years. Sam took her in. She was older. She was slimmer in the face, and her cheekbones a little more defined. Her blue eyes were that beautiful middle blue, but they seemed lost.

  Empty.

  Oh, Meredith.

  My sweet Meredith.

  The third train went by.

  Meredith hadn’t jumped.

  She looked into his eyes and appeared surprised to see him. Sam reached into his pocket and took out his business card. He didn’t greet her. Instead, he took her hand and ignored the way her touch made his heart beat within his chest. Sam placed it in her palm and didn’t say a word.

  He looked at her one last time then returned to the bench and picked up the newspaper and his briefcase. He decided he wouldn’t go into the city today. Instead, he walked past Meredith Driessen and made his way back into the station. Then Sam passed the ticketing office and the shop.

  “Sam? Did you miss your train?” Lily called out.

  He ignored her and kept walking down the ramp and to the parking lot. The moment he reached his government car, Sam unlocked it and got inside. He stared out the window and watched the unexpected rain pelt it. He wasn’t even sure if the blurriness he saw was from the torrential rain or from his tears. Sam reached up and pressed his fingers to his cheek. He felt the moisture, but he didn’t want to believe it as he glanced down. His fingers held traces of his tears, and that was when he cried harder.

  Meredith Driessen had tried to commit suicide today, and I had saved her.

  I wish I hadn’t.

  I wish Meredith Driessen had died today.

  Then I wouldn’t remember what it was like to be in love with her.

  Seven years ago, I wish I had been the brave one.

  I wish Meredith Driessen had never saved my life.

  chapter three

  SAM

  Seven years ago

  “Margot thinks I’m being stupid,” Phillip Hall said.

  Sam shook his head and kept his eyes on the whiteboard.

  “’Cause you are. It’s dinner with the in-laws. You’re both practically married,” Sam mumbled and turned to face his best friend.

  Phil’s nostrils flared. He raked his fingers through his dark brown hair and then took out his phone. His blue eyes focused on the scree
n as he mumbled, “You’re an ass.”

  Sam chuckled for the first time since that night by the river. She hadn’t walked into their English class yet. He’d been anxious to see and not see her. After he had let her pull him out of the water, they sat on the grass until morning. Meredith didn’t say a word to him until she had said goodbye and walked home with her border collie, Dutch.

  “What happened to you on Friday night? Your mum called me. She was hysterical,” Phil said as he typed a message on his phone.

  Sam gazed down at the clean page of his notebook. He still hadn’t said a word to his mother. She was locked in her room and only came out when he walked into the house on Saturday morning. His mother remained silent as she hugged him, made him breakfast, and then returned to her bedroom.

  “It’s nothing.” Sam avoided looking at his best friend.

  “Well, answer your phone, bro. That’s all you got to do. Just let me know you’re okay.” Phil set his hand on Sam’s shoulder.

  “I guess. I don’t really want to go.” Meredith’s voice had him lifting his chin.

  A navy blue ribbon fastened her curly blonde hair perfectly. She held her books to her chest and laughed. It was flawless. He’d always been drawn to her laugh. On Friday night, that pull had been extinguished and replaced by something else. She was far too beautiful, far too genuine, and far too innocent for the world. Meredith didn’t look Sam’s way as she took her usual seat to his left and set her books on her table.

  Sam watched her take off her scarf and gloves and noticed the scratch he had inflicted on her right hand. Her thumb traced the healing wound. He looked up just as she glanced his way. Her gaze was expressionless. His eyes made their way to her lips and watched them part slowly. He swallowed hard, wanting to know what it would be like to kiss her. A thought he had wondered many times throughout the years.