Blackout

(Josiesayz: I don’t really know why I wrote this story. I just knew that I wanted to write a short story about two characters, a female named Jamie and a male named Connor, who ended up playing a D&D style game, during a power cut, then this story just kind of happened. They say write about what you know, and although this story is no where near true, it is roughly based on a few true events that did happen at some point, just not in the same order or together or during this time line. I had fun writing it and it helped to give me a sense of closure, so that’s all that matters. Oh, and sorry that Blogger has decided to create weird spacing every time I press 'Enter'.)

Blackout

The street lamp flickered. Gazing out of her bedroom window, a red head watched as the leaves trundled down the road. A squeal shrieked. Wrinkling her nose, she shot her eyes across her room, to the metallic blue ipod sat inside the boom box and spun her thumb around the dial in the centre. The volume of the electric guitars and drum beating increased. Her fingers returned to the keys of her laptop and she continued to type. Voices grew louder. Her brow daggered. Stretching across her desk, the red head jabbed her thumb into her ipod, once more, and turned the volume of her music up even louder. She scrunched her face, as the television blasting downstairs and the squealing of her brother and his new girlfriend increased.

Arching her head over her shoulder, she tugged at her mobile phone that lay charging on her bed. “19:30,” lit up her screen. She groaned. Exhaling a long, deep sigh, the red head spun back around to her laptop. “Well, I can’t write anything,” she muttered to herself, as the voices on the television downstairs overpowered the blasting of her music. A squeal sent a shudder down her spine. As she balled her left hand into a fist, she clenched her teeth and closed the document, on her laptop, that she had been working on. Opening an internet browser, she brought up her email account. It was empty. Her shoulders deflated. ‘You need to stop checking,’ she scolded herself. ‘You won’t hear back from another job and you haven’t heard from Connor in three years. He probably doesn’t even remember you exist.’ Her heart gave a pang. A tingling danced inside her head. Wrapping her arms around herself, she daggered her nails into her biceps. She closed her eyes. The artificial light burnt into her closed lids. As she inhaled a slow, deep breath, her music, the television and the squealing swirled around in her brain. The tingling in her brain grew stronger and she began to feel nauseous. She squeezed her nails harder into her arms.

A buzzing sounded behind her. Her eyes shot open. Her heart fluttered. She spun around and grabbed her phone, from her bed. Her heart flopped to her stomach. It was not Connor, as her heart had hoped. ‘It’s not going to be Connor,’ she scolded herself. ‘It’s never going to be Connor. It’s been almost three years, why am I randomly thinking about him so much?’ She shook her head, trying to free her thoughts from him, as she looked at her phone. Her only friend’s name, Keith, lit up her phone’s screen.

“Hi Jamie,” the message read. “I’m just checking in on you. You’ve been a little quiet lately. Just wanted to make sure you’re ok.” A smile prodded into the right corner of her cheek.

“I’m okay, thank you,” she replied, trying her best to ignore her loud music, drowning out the blasting television and occasional squealing. “Just a little stressed with home (the usual). How are you holding up? How’s your new flat?” she typed back, before checking the charging percentage on her phone and dropping it back onto her bed.

Returning her attention back to her laptop, she closed the document that she had returned to typing in and opened up a historical land conquering game to play instead. ‘I can’t concentrate on anything with that racket,’ she grumbled to herself, as she rolled her eyes. Thumping sounded on the wall beneath her.

“Turn your s**t off,” bellowed her brother’s voice, up the stairs. She rolled her eyes and ignoring his request, increased the volume on her ipod. As she waited for the opening credit scene of her game to load, her phone vibrated again. It was another message from Keith.

“Glad you’re ok. Sorry about them pair. How goes the job hunt?” he asked. “Still waiting on my new wheelchair, so housebound until it comes. Watched an interesting lightning storm from my window today and thought of you.”

A knot swirled around in Jamie’s stomach. ‘I can’t complain about my life, when Keith’s is so much worse,’ she sighed to herself. ‘Losing the ability to move his entire right side, after a stroke is… I don’t have words to describe how awful that must be, and he’s only sixty.’ Sinking lower into her chair, Jamie let out a sad sigh. “I am so sorry they still haven’t sorted things for you,” she typed back. “I’m glad you enjoyed watching the lightning. Do you have a nice view, from your new place? I do have an interview tomorrow. It’s another admin job, but it pays well. It’s in the morning, so I’ll tell you how it went on my way back to work,” replied Jamie.

“View’s not as great as my old place,” replied Keith. “But I can’t complain. Glad you got an interview. I will be thinking of you tomorrow morning. Good luck.”

 

*

 

A blonde crouched down, stacking the plates, mugs and bowls into the dishwasher. After clattering the cutlery around, she gave a long sigh, before slamming the door closed and pressing the ‘Start’ button. A red light lit up on the machine and a rumbling hum began. Her intestines churned, as she spun around, grabbed the kettle, flipped open the lid and began to fill it, under the tap. As she placed the kettle back on its stand, she flicked the switch on and a bright white light illuminated from inside. Having grabbed a large mug from the overhead cupboard and dropped a teabag inside it, she wandered over to the opposite side of the kitchen. The knotting at her stomach tightened, as she opened the fridge door. A beam of light engulfed her for a moment, as she retrieved a plate from the centre shelf, before closing the door and shuffling towards the microwave. As she pressed the large ‘Door Open’ button on the microwave, an amber beam lit up the inside. She slid the plate inside, slammed the door closed and pressed several buttons on the microwave’s panel. It beeped back at her and a loud hum sounded, as it spun the plate around inside. Pinching her lips in, she hugged her arms around herself as she gazed outside, while she waited. The sun had long set behind the trees, at the back of the garden. Dark, thick, ominous clouds drew near. The reflection of the kitchen’s spotlights reflected against the window’s surface, illuminating the night sky.

Bubbling sounded behind her, followed by a click. She spun around on her heels, to see the bubbling of the kettle ease, as it boiled. Her expression lowered to a stare, as she poured the water into the mug and dropped in a teaspoon, to sink the teabag. The tightening in her stomach had been replaced by a tugging in her chest. Her blank expression stared at the teabag, in the bottom of the mug, as a greeny-yellow spread into the transparent liquid. She gave the teabag a prod with the spoon. A creak sounded above her. Her heart gave a pang, as the grip around it tightened. A beep rang out behind her, as the light on the microwave dimmed. Arching her head over her shoulder, towards the microwave, she forced a swallow.

Teeth clenched, his fingers thundered away at the keys on his keyboard. An open bottle of whiskey lay within arm’s reach, to his right. On his left, a small desk lamp illuminated a notebook and pen. He flickered a glance to his right, at the darkness out of his window. Clouds loomed overhead, hiding the moon and stars from view. His shoulders drooped. The ceiling light and desk lamp reflected off the glass. He adjusted his focus and gazed back at his reflection. His stubbled face and long, scraped back hair stared back at him. His vision grew hazed. A shiver crept up his back, shuddering him out of his thoughts. Lowering his head, he returned to typing. A snarled expression rolled into the corners of his nose, as he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Clicking away on the mouse, he minimised the document that he had been working on, as the footsteps drew nearer.

The heat hit her, as she opened the door. Their eyes met. Her heart crashed against her ribcage. Her cheeks burnt. She dropped her sight to the plate and mug in her hands. “I, erm, Connor, I reheated your dinner, in case you felt hungry,” she told him, as she forced a swallow at the lump in her throat. “And I brought you up some tea.”

“Thanks Beth,” he muttered, staring at a space on his desk.

“I erm, thought maybe we could watch something together, before bed,” she told him, as she placed the plate and mug beside his notebook. “You’ve been working so hard lately. You could use a break.”

“I’m fine,” he told her, with a forced smile. “And thanks for,” he nodded his head towards the plate of meat, mashed potato and vegetables, swimming in gravy, “that,” he continued, forcing another smile. “I’ve just got some things to finish off,” he told her.

“Okay,” she muttered, feeling her heart sink to her stomach. Her eyes fell to her socks. “Please eat,” she told him, her voice no more than a whisper.

“I will,” he replied, as he went back to typing.

 

*

 

The engine quietened to a slow rumble, as they pulled up at a red light, the next morning. Sat in the driver’s seat, Connor flickered a glance at his rear-view mirror, then wing mirror, before flickering his sight back to the traffic lights. He fixed a hard stare straight ahead, at the back of the car in front. Beside him, his blonde passenger, Bethany, twisted the engagement ring around her finger. “Please promise me you’ll eat something, when you get into work,” she told him with a wrinkled brow.

“I told you, I’m not hungry,” he grumbled.

“But you didn’t eat anything last night. Is something wrong?” she asked, with a pout.

“I told you, I’m fine,” he muttered, through gritted teeth. Connor’s grip around the steering wheel tightened. The veins in his hands bulged to his skin’s surface. His snarl returned to his nose. As the traffic light flickered to green, he pressed his foot to the accelerator and sped away.

 

*

 

Jamie stepped off the train, with her mobile phone in her hand. Using her phone’s GPS, she made her way across several roads, checking the address in her hand. After a short walk, the red head found herself stood outside a towering building, full of big, bright windows. Her stomach spiralled in a circumbendibus, as she took a step inside. A beam of light engulfed her, as she stumbled through a large, glass entranceway. To her right lay a nook of rounded, chartreuse chairs, beneath a slanted ceiling. Dropping her eyes to her shoes, Jamie found herself standing on a worn, furry rug, which matched the chair’s chartreuse colouring and arched around the doorframe. Ahead, the main desk was more than ten, wide paces away. To her left, a wall of windows looked out onto the building’s carpark, with a large double-door entrance. As she shuffled inside, she flickered her sight back to her right, at the wall. “Welcome to Bridgeton House,” lined the pastel grey wall in a swirly font. In the far right corner, the red head spotted a staircase, leading upstairs, beside two metallic doors, which she assumed was a lift. Nearing the reception desk, Jamie gazed at the giant clock that towered over the man and lady sat behind the desk. ‘It’s only quarter-past-eight,’ she noticed. ‘I’m over half an hour early,’ she realised, as her intestines swirled into knots. “Erm, excuse me,” she squeaked, as she approached the reception desk. “My name is Jameson Reilly. I have an interview at quarter-to-nine, with Caroline Hogsmith. Sorry I’m so early,” she added, flickering her sight to the large clock. “I was worried I might not find the building.” The lady behind the desk nodded.

“If you would like to take a seat in the waiting area, over there,” she said, as she gestured towards the collection of chairs by the doorway. “I’ll phone Caroline and let her know you’re here.”

“Thank you very much,” Jamie smiled. She gave the lady a nod and a small eruption of nervous butterflies tingled in her stomach.

 

*

 

Having pulled into a parking space, Connor grabbed his messenger bag, removed his keys from the ignition and clambered out of his car. He gave his car door a slam, as he stuffed his keys into his pocket. ‘What’s wrong with me?’ he fumed, as he stomped through the carpark, towards the building ahead. ‘Why am I so angry all the time?’ he huffed. ‘I should be happy. New job, house, fiancée… I did all this to be happy, so why can’t I just enjoy it?’ Eyes fixed on the building’s double doors, Connor strode at a speedy pace, oblivious to the morning greeting of various co-workers.

As the double doors parted, he stepped inside. A swirly sign of, “Welcome to Bridgeton House,” blurred as his sight was drawn to someone sat in the waiting area. His snarl loosened. His daggered brow lifted. As he gazed over at the red head flicking through a company magazine, his shoulders relaxed. Staring at her, his lips parted. A swirl of warmth spiralled in his chest. His eyes widened and a word lodged in his voice box, as he stretched a hand out towards her. Recoiling his arm, Connor closed his mouth and shuddered out of his gaze. ‘It can’t be,’ he told himself and shook his head. Connor straightened his posture, as he approached the reception desk. “Morning Jenny, Al,” he said, with a nod. “Do you happen to know who’s in the waiting area?” he asked the receptionist and building guard on duty.

“She has an interview with Caroline,” Jenny told him.

“Caroline?” repeated Connor.

“Yes,” nodded Jenny, as Connor arched his head over his shoulder, to take another look at the red head. A soft smile crept into the left corner of his mouth, as he let out an airy breath.

“The admin team are recruiting,” he heard the guard say.

“That’s nice,” muttered Connor, as his eyes lay fixed upon the lady in the waiting area.

“That’s the first I’ve seen you smile in weeks,” chuckled Al, the morning’s building guard, as he scraped back his chair.

“I, erm,” stuttered Connor. His cheeks grew a rosy hue, as he brushed a hand against the back of his neck. “Old friend,” he muttered, with a shrug, clearing his throat.

“Does one need reminding you are already taken for, Mister Peterson?” said Jenny, with a raised brow. Flickering his sight from Jenny’s frown, to Al’s smug grin, Connor let out a nervous laugh.

“I haven’t seen Jamie in years, that’s all,” Connor told them with another shrug. “She’s had a hard time. I hope Caroline gives her a chance.” He let his gaze linger on the red head for a moment, as the stress in his shoulders lifted. The anger that had been bubbling inside him for weeks had vanished. Turning his attention to the receptionist and guard, he gave them a nod, before heading up the stairs.

 

*

 

Following the colour scheme downstairs, Jamie found herself in a flint-grey room, with matching carpet, a grey table and chartreuse chairs. The beam lights, overhead, illuminated the room to a filmset glow; no matter which direction Jamie arched her head. Nothing cast a shadow, as everything was saturated in a bright, beaming light. She wore her biggest smile, kept her shoulders back and her spine straight, as she tried her best to make herself sound good enough for the job. The beating inside her chest grew louder, as her interviewer, a large lady with short walnut coloured hair, scraped back in a bun, scribbled away on a piece of paper. Jamie tugged at her sleeves, digging her nails into the fabric, as she kept smiling. “Now Jameson,” said her interviewer, Caroline, looking over her spectacles at the red head. “With the current economic climate, we are encouraging as many people to work from home as possible. This won’t be a problem for you, will it?” Keeping her gaze and her beaming smile, with her interviewer, Jamie felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach, as memories from last night, and every night for the past several years washed over her. Loud music blasting. The television blaring. Screaming. Shouting. Squeals.

“It’s not a problem,” Jamie replied, feeling her smile falter. ‘Forget it,’ she told herself, as her shoulders deflated. ‘I’m never getting out. I’ll be stuck in the box room, alone, forever.’

 

*

 

The canteen was bustling with bodies. Having swung open the door, the smell of black coffee wafted into his nostrils. With his mug in his hand, Connor stormed past a collection of colleagues at the lunch table and made his way over to the coffee machine. “Why do admin get to recruit?” he heard a female voice say. “IT need far more staff – especially after Leon left.”

“Yeah and that guy who replaced him doesn’t even know the difference between CPU and memory,” scoffed a man in an all-black suit. “How did he even get a job here?”

The room’s chatter swirled into static noise in his head, as Connor clenched his left hand tight around the handle of his mug. A groan escaped him, as he gripped his thumb and index finger of his right hand, to his temple. Weight tugged at his shoulder blades. Heavy pressure pressed down on his brain. The anger and frustration, that had become his normal way of being of late, wrapped its arms tight around him.

“Connor!” called the man in the dark suit, from the table behind him. “Back us up here. Don’t we need more staff in marketing than Caroline does in admin.” With his back to his colleagues, Connor rolled his eyes before turning around.

“Sure do,” replied Connor forcing a grin, as he headed back towards the door.

“Are you skipping lunch again?” asked another colleague, at the table.

“Not hungry,” Connor shrugged. “The misses made a big pasta dish last night, I’m stuffed,” he told them, with a chuckle. He gave the group a grin and a nod, before tugging open the canteen door.

“Don’t overwork yourself,” the female shouted after him.

With a fixed stare on his face, Connor strode down the corridor, in several long, swift paces. As he turned left, his stomach gave a rumbling growl. ‘I’m not hungry,’ he grumbled to himself, thumping a hand to his belly monster. Passing his office, Connor continued down another corridor and down a flight of stairs, before taking a right. He slowed his pace, as he neared an ajar office door. His chest tightened. A shuddery exhale escaped him. Staring at the mug in his left hand, Connor took a slurp. The warm, bitter taste hummed at his chest. His eyes widened. Straightening his posture, he knocked on the door and peered inside.

“Oh,” gasped a plump lady, with her dark hair tied back in a tiny bun. “Connor?” she said with an exhale, shuffling a stack of papers together. “What brings you here?”

“Hi Caroline,” he replied, with a weak smile. “Mind if I borrow a bit of your time?”

“Sure thing,” she said, clicking the top of her pen several times. “I could use a break,” she added, as Connor entered her office and closed the door behind himself. “I’ve been doing interviews all morning. It’s exhausting.” Caroline let out an depleted sigh, as she leant back in her chair and took a big gulp from her pint glass of water.

“It’s actually about the interviews,” replied Connor. His brows slanted together, as he took a step closer.

“Connor, you don’t need a job in admin,” Caroline chuckled, shaking her head. “Unless Head of Marketing fancies a career change? I’d be happy to help you,” she beamed at him.

“No,” replied Connor, with a smirk, as he perched himself on the edge of the table and placed his coffee down, beside him. “I came to ask how they were going, if anyone in particular stood out?”

“We have a few hopeful ones that I might invite for a second interview,” she said, flicking her thumb against the corner of the stack of papers in front of her. “But there’s still two more days of first round interviews, so who knows. I’m still lost,” she told him, as lines creased her forehead. “What does this have to do with marketing?”

“Oh nothing,” muttered Connor. “It’s just-”

“I didn’t interview your partner, did I?” Caroline gasped. Her eyes widened, as a beaming grin stretched across her face.

“No,” Connor sang, with a nervous chuckle. A lump formed in his throat. Lowering his sight to his coffee mug, his right knee began to bounce. “There was someone waiting in reception, first thing this morning. Jenny, on the front desk, said she was waiting for an interview, with you.” Connor flickered his sight towards Caroline, as he went on. “She’s… an old friend of mine,” he struggled to say, lowering his eyes to a crease in his trousers. “Just wondered how she got on,” he shrugged. “She’s had a tough time,” he said, with a crackle to his voice, as his throat grew dry. His ears turned a deep scarlet. Noticing a soft smile stretch across Caroline’s face, Connor grabbed his mug and took a big gulp of coffee.

“You have a soft spot for her,” said Caroline, as her beaming grin grew. Her eyes grew wide and the apples of her cheeks turned a deep rosy red.

“No!” Connor blurted out, as his eyes bulged wide. “No,” he repeated, in a softer, calmer tone. “I just… wanted to know how she got on.”

“She is possibly a pick for a second interview,” Caroline told him, as she fanned out her stack of papers. Shifting her smile to the right, Caroline scrunched her face, as she added, “But she didn’t seem all that comfortable when I suggested working from home.”

“Her home life’s hard,” Connor muttered. His shoulders sank, as he returned his stare to the crease in the knee of his trousers. “She just needs someone to take a chance on her, so she can get out of there.” Caroline watched, as Connor’s eyeline sparkled. He sniffed, shaking his head, pushing the thoughts of the red head away.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Caroline told him, as she placed a hand on his knee.

“Thanks,” he whispered, prodding the right corner of his mouth into his cheek, as his heart felt hollow.

 

*

 

The radio sang away, in the background, replaying the newest catchy song that had been getting stuck in everyone’s head. “Three, two, one. Let’s begin,” sang the lady, beside Jamie, as she tapped her pen along to the radio. Lowering her head, Jamie shuffled down in her seat. Bodies surrounded her, typing away on their PC’s. Beneath Jamie’s desk, the office’s Wi-Fi router and power cables hummed a long, steady buzz; everyone had become accustom to its bee-like swarm that, to most, it went unnoticed.

The spotlights, from the showroom, reflected off the glass panel that separated the office team from the customer-facing team. Squinting, Jamie twisted herself around. A pain spiked up her back. She snapped her eyes shut, seeping a breath through gritted teeth.

Loud voices chatted away on telephone conversations, their voices echoing around the room. A cackled laughter sounded to Jamie’s right. She scrunched her nose. “No, of course not,” projected one colleague.

“Yes, the meeting is still going ahead,” said another, raising their voice.

“I don’t think that is acceptable,” shouted another. “We agreed the terms weeks ago.” As each person took turns voicing their part in their own conversation, the noise level in the room grew louder.

Attempting to tune out the volume competition, the room’s only red head squinted her vision at her computer screen and clicked on her mouse. Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Jamie’s brow furrowed as her desk phone added to the noise. A bright green light pulsed on the phone’s screen. Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Exhaling a deep sigh, Jamie picked up the receiver, answering, “Good afternoon, you’re through to Jameson, how can I help?” in a soft, gentle tone.

“Hello?” came a shout, from a male voice on the other end of the receiver. Shuddering, Jamie arched her head away from the voice, as she jabbed her thumb into the phone’s volume settings, turning the voice down. “Hello? Can you hear me?” yelled the voice.

“Yes, sir, I can hear you. How can I help you today?” she asked, with a big smile.

“Speak up,” he barked. “I can’t hear you.”

“I said, how can I help you today?” Jamie repeated, a little louder.

“It sounds very noisy,” complained her caller. “Tell them talking in the background to turn it down. I can hardly hear you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jamie told him, as she struggled to raise her voice. “Everyone’s on the phone. Can you hear me now?”

“Yes, now I’m on your website and I have my order in my basket, but how do I pay for it?” the male voice yelled.

“Pay for it?” Jamie repeated, as her brows slanted upwards. “You can pay by Visa or credit card, sir. If you are having any problems making your payment online, I can take your payment over the phone.”

“Yes,” shouted the man, as his voice croaked. “I want to make a payment, but I need an invoice.”

“Invoice?” murmured Jamie, as the lines on her forehead deepened. “Do you want to pay by BACS?”

“No,” came a shout from the other end of the phone. “I need an invoice to make a payment.” Inhaling a slow, deep breath, Jamie gripped her temple between her thumb and forefinger.

“If you are on our website, sir, you just need to make a payment by card. If you’re in the shopping basket, you just need to follow the instructions on the screen.” As the conversation continued, Jamie’s computer screen flickered several times. Her eyes widened. Sliding her chair back, she ducked her head beneath the table, to look at the cables. Heat from all of the cables that were plugged into pulsing electricity sockets warmed her ankles. The Wi-Fi router flashed several green lights at her. Straightening her back, Jamie wiggled the computer mouse, with her free hand as the customer continued to shout down the phone.

“That sounded painful,” exclaimed Kelly, who sat opposite Jamie, as the red head placed the receiver back on the body of the phone. The phone’s illuminated, digital screen dimmed. A small image of waves splashing up against a rockface replaced the customer’s phone number that had been present during their conversation.

“It was,” Jamie muttered, rolling her eyes.

“What was his problem?” she asked. “He couldn’t see where to pay?”

“No, he could see it. He just didn’t want to pay using a debit or credit card, nor did he want to pay by BACS and he didn’t want me to take his payment over the phone,” Jamie explained, as the lines returned to her forehead. “I told him he didn’t have a credit account and he just kept shouting, “I want an invoice,” over and over,” she said with a nervous laugh and a shrug. “And, “I’ve done it this way before,” he hasn’t,” she added. “I’ve looked him up on the system and he always pays by card on the website.”

“Maybe he’s always had someone do it for him,” Kelly suggested. “Or he’s suddenly forgot how to buy things online.” A loud cackle of laughter erupted beside them.

“Maybe,” Jamie muttered, scrunching her eyes at the noise. With an overexaggerated sigh, Jamie’s shoulders sunk as she prodded her finger into the screen of her mobile phone. No missed calls. No notifications. She gave a small, sad sigh as she returned to typing.

 

*

 

A lion roared. Rounds of shots fired. Jamie huffed an angered puff of air, as the television, downstairs, increased in volume. Screams screeched. As another round of bullets fired, trinkets vibrated across her desk. Jamie slammed the screen of her laptop down. “How am I supposed to do anything in this house?” she shouted out loud. No one heard her. Clambering out from her desk, she flopped back onto her bed. “And this is why I will never get a better job,” she sighed, staring up at the ceiling light. “I’m gonna be stuck here forever… and ever… and ever.” Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. Sadness and dread washed over her. Her insides twisted into knots. It had been two days since her job interview and she was yet to hear back. She had not heard back from any of the other jobs she had applied to either.

Vibration buzzed beside her head. Her eyes widened, as she gasped, sitting upright. The screen on her phone lit up. Her heart raced as a phone number appeared at the top of the screen, calling her. ‘Maybe it’s a job,’ she thought, as no caller ID accompanied the number. Swiping the phone, Jamie inhaled a shaky breath, as she sang, “Hello Jameson speaking.”

“Jamie,” said a male voice. Upon hearing her nickname, a frown furrowed the red head’s brow. After a long pause, the voice added, “It’s Connor.”

“Connor?” repeated Jamie, deepening the lines on her forehead. “I, I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number,” she realised, as her heart thumped in her chest. “This is Jameson-”

“Jamie, I’m sorry,” the male voice on the other end of the line trembled. As Jamie glanced at the number on her phone’s screen, she heard the caller sniff, as her heart gave a sharp pang. She recognised the number.

“Connor?” she murmured, as an eruption of butterflies exploded from her intestines. “I, are, are you okay?”

“No,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.”

Jamie gasped. ‘It is Connor,’ she realised. ‘And he’s crying. He never cries. He’s an emotionless robot.’ Her bottom lip trembled. “Don’t be sorry, silly,” she told him, with a nervous giggle, as though no time between them had passed. “What’s wrong?”

“I messed up. I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry.” His voice squeaked, as he murmured several snivelling sounds.

“It’s okay,” replied Jamie, trying to sound as soft and gentle as she could, while her pulse pounded in her temple and her heart hammered in her chest. “Are you at home?” she asked, with a smidge of panic creeping into her voice.

“Yes,” he mumbled, with a sniff and a sharp, shaky inhale.

“Is anyone with you?” she asked, taking a slight demanding tone. “Your housemate or partner?”

“No,” he howled. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he muttered over and over again.

“What’s happened?” gasped Jamie. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry,” was all he was able to mutter. “Jamie, I’m sorry.”

“Do you need me to come over?” she asked.

“I don’t want to bother you,” he snivelled. “I’m sorry.”

Jamie’s stomach twisted and churned into thousands of knots. Her brain leapt with a million and one worries and scenarios as to what trouble Connor had got himself into that meant she, of all people, was the one that he chose to call. A grip squeezed around her heart, as it pounded in her chest. “Do you still live next to the park, off High Street?” she asked, in a sharp tone.

“Yes,” he muttered, between several short, shallow breaths.

“I’m on my way,” she told him, as she leapt off her bed. She grabbed her jacket from the hook on the back of her bedroom door. Raising her left shoulder up, she pressed her cheek towards it, forcing her phone into her face, as she slipped her arms into her jacket sleeves. “Stay on the phone with me, until I get there, okay?” she told him. Her eyes darted around her room, looking for her keys, as she slipped her feet into her shoes.

“Okay,” he mumbled.

As Jamie power-walked the two and a half miles to Connor’s house, she asked him over and over, “Please tell me what’s wrong. I want to help you.”

“I can’t tell you,” Connor cried. “Not over the phone. It’s not right.”

“Will you tell me when I get there?” she asked. Silence. “Connor? Connor are you still there? Connor? Please answer me.” Jamie’s insides trembled, as her heart crashed over and over again into her ribcage. Her pulse pounded at her temple. Her breaths grew short and shaky. The inner corners of her eyes stung. She gave a sharp sniff. “Connor, listen to me Connor, whatever’s happened, I care about you, okay? You’re not alone. I’m here for you. I’m always here… I always have been,” she said, with a sniff. “I always will be.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he bawled. Clonking sounded in the distance. “I’m nothing but horrible to you.”

“No you’re not,” insisted Jamie, as her vision began to blur. Rubbing a hand across her face, she forced a swallow at the lump in her throat. A twinge sprang from her heart. “You’re a wonderful, loving, caring man, silly. You were there for me when my dad walked out on us, and when I got third degree burns and when my brother tried to kill me,” she squeaked, with a sniff, as her chest trembled.

“But we were together then,” he mumbled. “I’ve been nothing but horrible to you. Stop being nice to me. I don’t deserve it.”

“It’s okay,” she said in a soft whisper. “It’s okay. I’m nearly there now. Are you gonna let me in, when I get there?” Her eyes widened, as rustling sounded. “Connor?”

“I’m in the back garden,” he muttered, as he began sobbing harder. “I’m sorry,” he spluttered. “Jamie, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she repeated, her hands shaking. “It’s okay. Will you let me in when I get there?”

“The side passage is open,” he murmured.

“Okay,” replied Jamie, with a firm nod.

“I don’t want you to see me,” he blurted out. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Don’t be silly,” she sang in a light, airy voice. “You can’t be on your own, like this. Just let me sit with you, until you calm down. You can tell me what’s happened. I might be able to help you.”

“No one can help me,” he howled. “You’ll hate me. You’ll hate me more than ever.”

“I won’t hate you, silly,” Jamie let out a nervous laugh, as images of Connor covered in blood, the ashy remains of a fire and a lifeless corpse all sprang to the front of her mind. A shudder danced down her spine. “I could never hate you.”

“You will,” he grumbled.

“I’m almost there,” she told him. “I’m just coming through the park, now.”

“I started smoking again,” he blurted out. “I’m sorry,” his voice howled in her ear.

“It’s okay,” she told him, in her soft, gentle voice, as her eyes fixed upon his house. “It’s okay. I’m here and it’s going to be okay.”

Stood in the drive way of Connor’s house, Jamie’s feet rooted to the spot. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, as she gazed at the building before her. Memories flooded to the front of her mind. Connor carrying her over the threshold, when he gave her the first guided tour of the house. His childlike excitement, when he discovered a patch of strawberries growing in the back garden. Cosy nights, cuddles up on the settee, watching their favourite detective series. The passionate kisses they shared in the kitchen. Connor’s hands at her waist, as he lifted her onto the countertop. Him carrying her up the stairs. Lying in bed together, looking out at the stars. Connor’s breath on her neck as he whispered, “I love you, Jamie.”

Shuddering out of her thoughts, a tingling exploded from her chest. Her lips parted, as the sensation spread from her chest to her stomach and down her arms and legs. Her eyes shot wide open. “Connor!” she gasped, aloud. She swept towards the side passage, beside the garage door that led into the back garden. “Connor, I’m here now, okay?” said Jamie into her phone, as she prodded open the side passage door. She heard him take a snivelling breath, as the soles of her shoes patted against the concrete ground. As she reached the door to Connor’s back garden, Jamie fluttered her eyes closed and inhaled a slow, long breath.

Opening the back door, the trembling in Jamie’s chest rattled, as she stepped outside. Her eyes shot towards the figure slumped over in a chair. She held her breath. Her heart dropped to her stomach. “Connor,” she gasped, ending the call on her phone, as she raced to his side. “Connor,” she breathed. Lifting his head, Connor groaned as he turned to face her.

“Jamie,” he croaked in disbelief, as the red head stood before him. Her eyebrows slanted upwards and her lips parted as she stared at him. Red eyed and blotchy faced, Connor’s features scrunched, as he stubbed out his cigarette and gazed up at her. “Jamie, I’m sorry,” Connor croaked. His eyes shook, as he stared at her. Her puckered brow faded, as she placed herself at his side.

“It’s okay,” she said, with a soft smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re not alone anymore. I’m here,” she told him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m here,” she repeated, as she stroked her thumb along his arm.

Jerking forward, Connor spluttered a chesty cough into the nook of his elbow. With a shaky breath, Jamie rubbed a hand across his back. Lowering her eyes, Jamie remained silent, as she continued her comforting stroke of his back. A buzzing vibrated. Connor flinched. Grabbing his phone from his lap, he jabbed his thumb into the screen. “Bah!” he shouted, before lobbing the phone across the garden. Jamie gasped. “I don’t care about you!” he yelled at the phone. Leaping back, Jamie clasped her hands to her chest.

“Have you been drinking?” Jamie asked in a serious tone, as she stared ahead, where his mobile phone had landed.

“What d’you think?” he growled, flopping back into the chair.

“Have you eaten?” she asked.

Connor gave a sarcastic, “Ha!” as he spat on the ground. Inhaling a shaky breath, Jamie returned her hand to his shoulder.

“Would you like a glass of water?” suggested Jamie.

“Please,” he muttered.

“Okay,” whispered Jamie, giving his shoulder a squeeze, before turning back towards the house.

“Don’t leave me,” he exclaimed, clasping a hand on her arm.

“I’m coming back,” Jamie told him, twisting her head over her shoulder. “I promise.” As she gave him a soft smile, a small exhale escaped Connor, as his lower lip trembled.

Entering the kitchen, Jamie’s eyes widened. The ceiling spotlights engulfed her in light. Her chest trembled, as she inhaled a shaky breath. ‘As if I never left,’ she mused, as she glanced around at the chalk cupboard doors and chestnut counter top. A dreamy breath escaped her. Her eyes were drawn to the scarlet coloured kettle, perched in the far corner. ‘Still there.’ A smile prodded into the right corner of her cheek, as she stretched up, to open one of the cupboard drawers. Pulling out a mug, she jumped, as her pocket vibrated. Jamie spun around, to face the kitchen window and peered out, onto the back garden. Connor lay back in the chair, with his legs sprawled out in front of him, looking up at the sky. As she turned on the tap, Jamie fished her phone out of her pocket and prodded her thumb into the screen. It was a text message from Keith. “Hope you have a pleasant evening,” it read, “Have you heard back from that job yet?”

“Sorry Keith, I can’t talk right now,” Jamie typed back. “I’m with Connor. He’s not in a good place mentally. I’ll explain later.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Keith wrote back, with an angry faced emoji. “You truly have a heart of gold. Don’t let him take advantage of that. Take care.”

Removing the vibration setting from her phone and turning it onto ‘Silent’ mode, Jamie returned it to her pocket, as she grabbed the mug of water. Her heart thudded inside her and she felt its beat with every step, as she returned to Connor’s side. “Here you go,” she said, passing the mug across to Connor. His eyes darted to the mug, as his shaky hands took grip of it.

“Thanks,” he muttered, before taking a sip. Staying silent, at his side, Jamie returned her hand to his shoulder. “Don’t,” he muttered, jerking his shoulder away from her touch.

“But I,” murmured Jamie, as she etched, an inch, away from him.

“You’ll only make it harder,” he cried. As her intestines knotted, Jamie gave him a nod. She gripped one hand in the other and squeezed tight, watching Connor take another sip of water. He shuffled in his seat, straightening his slouched shoulders. “Jamie, I’ve been seeing someone,” he told her, in a dead, cold voice, staring down at the mug in his hands. Jamie’s heart gave a painful pang. “We live together and I proposed and everything.”

“That’s lovely,” Jamie managed to say. Pinching her lips in, she squinted her eyes tight, fighting back tears. A lump stuck in her throat. She daggered her nails into her skin, hiding a shaky breath from him. “I’m happy for you,” she whispered, unable to hide the faltering in her voice, as a tight grip squeezed at her heart once more.

“But I pushed her away,” he said, his voice empty.

Trembling beside him, Jamie sniffed, as Connor continued to stare into the bottom of his mug. “Why?” asked Jamie, after a moments silence, her voice no more than a whisper. “Was something wrong?” she asked. “Did you have a fight?”

“No,” he muttered, with a swallow. “I just,” Connor’s chest trembled, as he inhaled short, shallow breaths.

“It’s okay,” Jamie whispered, returning her hand to his shoulder. She held her breath, waiting for him to push her away. When he did not, she brushed her hand up to his cheek. She rested her curled hand across his stubble and stroked her thumb across his earlobe.

“I just didn’t feel anything towards her anymore,” he said with a shrug.

“I’m sure you do,” Jamie assured him. “That’s a big thing for you to do,” she said as she swallowed at another lump in her throat. “Asking Shellie to move out… and your girlfriend moving in. You’ve changed a lot,” Jamie told him with a smile, her voice trembling.

“No, I haven’t,” grumbled Connor.

“When I knew you, you said you never wanted to get married, because it’s just a piece of paper and you wanted to forever be able to change your mind,” she told him, with a soft, nervous, laugh, as she stroked a long dark curl of his, behind his ear. “You didn’t want me to live with you either, because you wanted to live with Shellie forever.”

“I said that to you?” he breathed. His brow rose, as he turned to face her. Jamie’s vision began to blur, as she gazed back into his deep brown eyes, with little green flecks.

“You must really love her,” she sniffed, forcing her biggest smile, as the aching in her heart weighed her down, all the while, stroking a comforting thumb across his stubbled jaw bone and lower ear.

“She’s gone,” he murmured, breaking eye contact with Jamie and returning his sight to his mug of water.

“Gone? Gone where?” asked Jamie.

“I sent her back to her parents” he said, with a growl to his voice, as he snarled his nose. “I didn’t wanna see her anymore.”

“Why?” gasped Jamie, as her hand against his face froze.

“I dunno,” he sniffed. “I thought moving her in would make me feel better, and it did for a bit, but then,” as Connor took a shaky breath, he flickered a glance at Jamie, whose sparkling eyes gazed back at him. “Then I thought proposing would fix it and it did, for a bit. But I just – I dunno.” His shoulders drooped. As Connor took another sip of water, Jamie leant towards him and placed her lips on the top of his head.

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

“Then I saw you, on Tuesday,” he said, as his eyes widened. “Waiting for your interview and I finally felt like me again, for the first time in ages.” Lifting his hand, he placed a gentle grip around her wrist that was comforting his cheek. Her sparking eyes lost in his, Jamie’s bottom lip trembled, as words escaped her. She seeped a sharp inhale, before pinching her lips in tight. “You saved me,” he croaked, stroking his thumb against the back of her hand. “You did when I met you and I pushed you away,” he told her, his voice shaking. “You did when I was buying my house and I pushed you away.” Placing her other hand on his, Jamie sniffed, smiling at him. “Now you’ve saved me again. I don’t want you to go.” Tears welled in the corners of Connor’s eyes as his face scrunched.

“Ssshh,” she whispered, loosening her hand from his grip. Stepping towards him, Jamie stretched her arms around him, resting her hands on his back. “It’s okay,” her soft voice whispered in his ear, as her cheek brushed against his. “It’s okay. I’m here now, that’s all that matters. You can fix things,” she told him. Connor flinched, as an involuntary murmur escaped him. “We can fix things, together.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, squeezing her tight.

The two remained in silence for some time, with Connor staring ahead, towards the back of his garden and Jamie at his side, stroking her hand to his stubbled cheek. The bitter wind trundled the leaves across the grass, as the sun lowered, behind the trees. “It’s cold,” Connor muttered, with a sniff, as he shuffled to straighten his posture.

“Shall we sit inside?” asked Jamie.

“Yeah,” he sniffed. “I’ll get a blanket,” he told her, as he pressed his palms into the arms of the chair, pushing himself up to stand.

As Connor led the way back inside, Jamie ran across the garden, to collect his mobile phone. She swallowed, as she saw the cracked screen. Once inside, she placed his phone on the kitchen counter, as she retrieved the scarlet kettle, filling it under the tap. Rummaging in the cupboards, she searched for what she knew to be his favourite coffee and mug, while she waited for the water to boil. As she waited, the racing in Jamie’s heart began to slow, albeit a little. Folding her arms at her chest, she held her hands tight at her elbows and gave a long, slow deep breath in and out.

Floorboards creaked. A rhythmical clicking, followed by a low hum sounded in the far corner of the kitchen, as the radiator began to warm. Bubbling rattled. Jamie spun around on her heels and clicked the kettle off the boil, before pouring the steaming liquid into a large, white mug. “Hey,” murmured a nearby voice.

“Connor,” Jamie breathed, seeing him stood in the doorway, draped in her favourite chocolate-coloured, teddy bear blanket. The knot in her intestines tugged, as her heart gave a sharp twinge. A smile, full of sorrow, spread across Connor’s face, as he shuffled towards the red head.

“Thank you,” he whispered, holding his arms out towards her.

“It’s okay,” Jamie whispered back, as she stepped into his embrace. Pressing her left cheek into his chest, his warmth engulfed her, as she wrapped her arms around him and he surrounded her in a hug, with his blanket. Jamie hummed against him, as the comforting thump of his heartbeat sent a tingling spark throughout her body.

“I’m never letting you go,” muttered Connor. As he placed his chin on the top of her head, Connor closed his eyes and seeped in a deep breath through his nose. “You smell nice,” he murmured.

“I made you a coffee,” she told him.

“You know how to look after me,” Connor said, with a slight chuckle to his voice. Jamie hummed in agreement, as she tightened her grip around him.

“Do you want something to eat?” she asked pulling out of their embrace. Lowering his sight to a smudge on the lino floor, Connor shook his head. “It’s okay. Let’s take your coffee and sit in the living room for a bit.” Prodding the left corner of his mouth into his cheek, Connor nodded.

Having plonked down on one end of the settee, Connor’s blanket draped over his shoulders as he hugged his giant mug of black coffee to his chest. As he brought the mug up to his lips and gave the steam a blow, Jamie perched down beside him. Her heart still raced. Her hands trembled. Gripping her left hand over her right, Jamie clasped them tight together and held her breath, as Connor took a slurp and several big gulps of coffee.

“So,” he said, after letting out a gasping exhale and placing his mug on a coaster on his coffee table. “What’ve you been up to?” asked Connor. His voice weak and full of sorrow and pain. “You’re looking for a new job?”

“Kind of,” mumbled Jamie, with a shrug, as she gazed at a knot in the wood, on Connor’s coffee table. “I, I got a new job back in January,” she told him, with a furrowed brow. “I’m an administrator now.”

“Really?” Connor replied with surprise, and a slight smirk. “And you don’t like it?” he asked, as a frown washed over his face.

“I do,” replied Jamie, flickering him a glance. “It’s a lot nicer than the mental abuse and bullying I had at my old place. And I’ve learnt a lot since I’ve been there. It’s just, I need to earn more if I’m ever going to move out.”

“Is home still hard?” he muttered. Turning to face her, Connor’s eyes fixed upon Jamie’s hands knotted together on her lap. The right corner of Jamie’s mouth prodded down, as she nodded.

With a shaky breath, Connor reached over towards the red head, placing a hand on hers. Letting out a nervous exhale through her nose, Jamie slid her hands out from under Connor’s, flickering her eyes to his. As their eyes met, Jamie’s brow puckered and she dropped her eyes to her lap. “Is something wrong?” asked Connor, withdrawing his hands to his lap.

“It’s nothing,” Jamie muttered, raising her right shoulder, in attempt to hide from Conor’s burning gaze. “You just… look different,” she murmured, after a long pause. It was Connor’s turn to let out a nervous exhale, as he tugged at one of the shoulder length dark curls, tied at the back of his head.

“Beth liked it long,” he said, with a shrug.

Twisting herself away from him, Jamie’s tongue scraped against the roof of her mouth. “You always said you couldn’t stand your hair long, because you pull it out when you’re stressed,” said the red head, as her eyes darted from the dining table, to the chairs, to the fire place, before fixing her gaze on the arm of the settee. “She must have a really positive affect on you,” she said, in a quiet voice.

“I got used to it,” Connor shrugged. “It hurts tying it up all the time,” he added, wrinkling his nose. As Jamie hummed, Connor slumped his shoulders, flopping back into the back of the settee. “Sometimes I just want it all gone,” he sighed. “And to look like me again.”

“Maybe that’s what’s troubling you,” he heard Jamie say, as she twisted around to face him. Her bright eyes returned, causing a sharp thud to spark in his chest. “You shouldn’t change who you are to try and impress someone. You should just be you and if she doesn’t like it, that’s her problem,” Jamie told him, as she shrugged her right shoulder. “But I can’t see why she wouldn’t,” she added, with a beaming grin. “Like I’ve already said, you’re a wonderful person Connor,” she told him through sparkling eyes. Her bottom lip trembled. “Of course she’ll love you for you. You just have to talk to her.”

“I don’t want to,” Connor grumbled, folding his arms at his chest.

“But Connor,” exclaimed Jamie. “She’s your fiancée.”

“Was,” he corrected her, as the snarl crept back into his nose. “I told you, I ended it. She packed her stuff and’s gone,” he grumbled, tugging at a loose curl.

“Stop it,” Jamie scolded him, as her eyes widened. “Don’t pull at it.” She gasped and stretched an arm out towards him. “You have to talk to her… sort this all out.”

“I want it all gone,” he growled, pulling at the hair elastic, gripping his shoulder length curls to the back of his head. “Look at it!” he exclaimed, as he shook his head. A mane of dark chocolate-coloured curls danced around his shoulders. “I must look like a cave man.” Curling a hand to her mouth, Jamie tried to hide her giggle.

“I was thinking you look like a middle-aged gym instructor whose trying to pull girls, in his class, that are half his age, but yours works too,” she said, not trying to hide her forced smile.

“Does it really look that bad?” he asked, his eye brows raised high and deep creases lined his brow.

“If you like it, that’s all that matters,” Jamie told him, with a shrug.

“I don’t,” he grumbled.

Shuffling herself around to face Connor more, Jamie inhaled a shaky breath, as her forehead furrowed. “Are you just saying that because you’re upset?” she asked him. “Because I’ll cut it all off for you if you’ve got scissors and a razor, but only if that’s what you really want,” she told him, as she placed a hand on his knee. Jamie heard Connor swallow, as his eyes fixed upon her hand. “It must have taken you all three years to grow it.”

“You said you didn’t want me to change, so I made sure I did to spite you,” Connor muttered, as his stare began to blur.

“You’re silly,” said Jamie, with a giggle.

“I’m sorry,” Connor cried, as he scrunched up his face. Leaning forward, he flopped to his left, resting his head on Jamie’s lap.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, stroking a hand across his stubbled cheek. “It’s okay.”

 

*

 

A pile of long, dark curls littered the floor at his feet. A buzzing hum sounded behind him, as a red head guided a shaver up the back of his head. Hair trickled down the back of his neck. Connor shuddered, as a weight lifted from his head. He flickered his eyes several times, as the fuzzy weight that clouded his head eased a little. He exhaled a snort through his nostrils, as he felt he regained a smidge of himself.

“Have you eaten anything at all today?” asked Jamie, as she neatened up the edges of his hair, behind his ears, with a stroke of his shaver.

“No,” Connor muttered.

“Do you want me to cook something?” she asked, brushing the fallen hairs off the back of his neck. “What are you in the mood for?”

“I dunno,” he grumbled.

“How about I order pizza, while you take a shower?” she suggested, as she placed the shaver down on the table. Returning her hands to his shoulders, Jamie began to massage her thumbs into his back. “And maybe, if you feel up to it, we can play a game of D and D. Nothing helps you forget your problems more than pretending to be someone else for a while,” she said, puffing out a laugh of air through her nose.

“You’re so good to me,” said Conner, running a hand over his short scruff of hair. “But I was nothing, but horrible to you,” he added, in a mumble.

“No you weren’t, silly,” Jamie told him, in a cheery tone, as she removed her hands from his shoulders and folded her arms tight at her chest.

“I didn’t come to your aid when you cried for help,” he muttered, as his shoulders drooped.

“I know,” she breathed. Staring at a small piece of Connor’s hair that flicked out at the back of his head, Jamie squeezed herself tighter. “But it doesn’t matter now,” she whispered. “All that matters is that you’re okay.” As Jamie let out a shaky breath, she placed a hand back on Connor’s left shoulder.

“Thanks,” he replied, placing a hand on hers.

 

*

 

Hearing the gush of running water, in the distance, Jamie finished sweeping up the last of Connor’s cut curls. The knot in her intestines tightened. “I hope his fiancée won’t be mad,” Jamie worried, as she tapped the dustpan and brush against the lip of the kitchen bin. “I hope Connor doesn’t regret it in the morning either.” Returning the dustpan and brush to a cupboard, Jamie boiled the kettle again, to make Connor another mug of coffee. With her back to the kitchen door, Jamie pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket and typed a message to her friend Keith. “Sorry for being so short with you earlier. I hope you are okay. Connor’s had a bit of a breakdown and ended things with his fiancée for, what seems like, no reason. He’s really upset and I’m scared he’ll do something stupid (it wouldn’t be the first time). Just trying to calm my thoughts, whilst he’s taking a shower. How’s your evening?”

While she waited for Keith’s reply, Jamie gazed out of the kitchen window. The sun had sunk behind the trees and dark clouds littered the sky. As the wind drew the clouds past Jamie’s line of sight, the waxing crescent moon and a single star twinkled into view. She exhaled a long, sad sigh. The surface beside her illuminated, as she received a reply from Keith. “Let him do something stupid! He doesn’t deserve your time. Don’t let him take advantage of you,” he warned her. Reading Keith’s text, Jamie rolled her eyes.

“I’m being careful,” she typed back, thudding her finger onto her phone’s screen. ‘I’m here for him in the same way I’m here for you,’ she thought to herself with a huffed sigh, skimming her eyes back across Keith’s message. “I know he doesn’t deserve it,” she continued typing, “but I could never forgive myself if I didn’t help him and he did something stupid. Sometimes he forgets that his family and friends care about him. I just need him to calm down and see that, then I’m gone.” Flickering her sight back to the window, Jamie’s vision sparkled, as she gazed at the one star she could see. “I just want Connor to be okay,” she whispered, as the inner corners of her eyes stung. Her vision blurred. A grip squeezed at her heart. “That’s all that matters.”

The blotchiness in Jamie’s face faded, as she poured the steaming water into Connor’s mug and swirled around a teaspoon. She stared, as the coffee spiralled into a mini whirlpool. “Thanks,” came a small voice, from the doorway. Turning to face him, Jamie felt her cheeks flush as Connor stood inches away from her, wearing a hoodie she had bought him, years ago. “Feels better,” he said, running a hand over the top of his head.

“That’s good,” Jamie replied, prodding the right corner of her mouth into her cheek. “I made you another coffee,” she told him, returning her attention to the stirring spoon. Removing the spoon, Jamie slid Connor’s mug closer towards him and stepped towards the sink, to swill the spoon, staring up at the single star in the sky.

“Thank you,” she heard Connor say.

With Connor's long hair gone, his face cleanshaven and wearing her favourite hoodie, wrapped up in his blanket, he now reminded Jamie of the old Connor that she knew. That she had fallen in love with. She gazed at his reflection, feeling her cheeks tingle. As Connor turned around, Jamie averted her eyes to the sink, feeling the heat burn in her cheeks. “Do you want to set a game up and we order pizza?” she asked, flickering her sight up at his reflection. She pinched her lips in, feeling her blush brighten, as she realised Connor was stood right beside her.

“I’d like that,” he replied, taking a slurp of coffee.

 

*

 

Connor clattered about in the living room, whilst Jamie collected the pizza, from the delivery man, at the front door. “Thank you,” she sang, as she shivered against the evening chill. The driver flashed his headlights and nodded at her, before pulling away, his car drawing an elongated shadow, as he neared the towering streetlamp on the island, in the centre of the road. Closing the front door, the red head fluttered her eyes closed and let out a long hum, as the pizza’s rich, cheesy fragrance filled the hallway. “This smells amazing,” Jamie exclaimed, swinging open the door to the living room. A frown puckered her forehead. “I, err,” she murmured, seeing Connor drag his two dining chairs across the room. Jamie tilted her head to the right, as he plonked the chairs on the other side of the coffee table, opposite the settee, facing the wall. Her heart gave a tingling flutter, as she spotted the King Arthur themed tabletop game that she had bought him years ago, spread out on the coffee table. As Connor’s back brushed into view, Jamie shuddered out of her trance. “Connor,” she said, with a nervous laugh, placing the pizza box in a space on the end of the coffee table. “What are you doing?”

“You once said you wanted to make a blanket fort,” he said, as he grabbed a large beige throw, with tasselled edges, from the arm of the settee. “So, I built you one. I grabbed all of the pillows and cushions I could find.” Jamie’s eyes widened and her lips parted as she looked down at Connor’s effort. Six pillows and four cushions bordered the outskirts of the coffee table. “Now I just need to,” Connor’s voice lowered to a mumble, as he shook the king-size blanket out in front of him. Grabbing the two corners that Connor wafted out, Jamie stretched the sheet over the coffee table and hooked it over the back of the settee, as Connor lowered his end over the dining chairs and fixed it in place with a stack of books that lay at his feet.

Lost for words, Jamie stood back and let out a breathy gasp. “I’ve been so horrible to you, but you’ve been nothing but nice to me,” he muttered, as he pulled the throw tighter against the chair. “I know it’s silly, but I tried,” he said, with a shrug. He gazed down at her, with a weak smile, waiting for Jamie to respond. He watched as her eyes flickered from her right to left and back again, before looking up at him.

“It’s perfect,” she beamed, taking a step towards him. Connor’s weak smile softened, as he held his arms out for an embrace. Jamie wrapped her arms around him and pressed her left ear against his chest. A warm hum escaped her, as Connor’s arms and blanket wrapped around her. “You okay?” she whispered, stroking her thumb against his back.

“I will be,” he hummed against her.

The light overhead flickered. Darkness. Jamie flinched, giving Connor a brief squeeze. “It’s okay,” Connor whispered, rubbing a hand up and down her back. Outside, the streetlights had cut out. Several house alarms screeched, in the distance. Arching her head up towards Connor, Jamie’s brow puckered. “I’ll go get some candles,” he told her, pulling out of their embrace.

“D’you need a hand?” she asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Connor replied, slipping his blanket off his shoulders and dropping it to the floor.

“Wait,” called Jamie, as she tugged her mobile phone out of her pocket and switched on the torch. “You might need this,” she told him, handing over her phone.

“I’ll be fine,” he told her, shaking his head at her phone. “I know my house in the dark, I think.”

 

*

 

While Connor disappeared, Jamie used her phone to contact the local power company. As she prodded her finger into the screen, it illuminated the room. Having filled out Connor’s address on the power company’s contact form, Jamie prodded the, ‘Send,’ button and dropped to the floor and crossed her legs. With the torch lit up on her phone, Jamie flickered it over the coffee table and the pillows and cushions inside the blanket fort. As she inhaled the scent of Connor’s pizza, the right corner of her cheek prodded down. The screen of her phone lit up. The power company had responded to her enquiry: “Thank you for your communication. An engineer will be out shortly Estimated completion time: 03:30am.”

“Three thirty?” she exclaimed out loud.

“What’s that?” asked Connor, prodding the living room door open, with his toe, as he cradled a collection of candles in his arms and another blanket, in a snowy white colour, draped around his shoulders.

“Power won’t be back on until three thirty, in the morning,” Jamie told him, clambering to her feet. “That’s a lot of candles,” she added, seeing the hoard of candles that Connor had brought downstairs.

“Everyone sent us candles when we got engaged,” explained Connor. “Who knows why, they aren’t scented or anything,” he said with a shrug. “Mmm, pizza smells good,” he grinned, clambering into the blanket fort, on the side between the coffee table and the dining chairs. “You can have that blanket if you like,” he told Jamie, prodding his head at the brown blanket on the floor. “It’s gonna get cold in here without the heating.”

“Yey,” Jamie squeaked. “That’s my favourite,” she told Connor, swiping the blanket from the floor. As she wrapped it around herself, a tingle crept down her back, causing her to blush, as Connor’s body heat remained on the fabric. Tugging the corners of the blanket around her shoulders, she rested her cheek against the fabric and breathed in a slow inhale. The familiar scent that she often referred to as, “Black coffee, inspiration and sleep,” engulfed her. Her insides exploded with a flutter of butterflies. Her eyes flickered closed, as a big, warm grin stretched across her face.

With a collection of tea lights and small candles, in black, wooden disc holders, all lit, their flames danced, as Connor wafted open the pizza box and tugged at a slice. As Connor took a big bite, he let out a long hum. “I forgot how good pizza tastes,” Connor said, as he shuffled a handful of cards.

“Pizza’s your favourite,” replied Jamie, as she shuffled into a space on the opposite side of the coffee table to Connor. “Well, at least it used to be. I hoped it would help.” Lowering her line of sight to the coffee table, Jamie forced the bubble of excitement inside her to simmer, as she took several deep, slow breaths. “So,” she said, keeping her eyes on the board of the game, as Connor dealt five cards in her direction. “Have you thought about what type of character you want to be?” she asked.

“A chaotic-evil priest, who is mad at the universe, because his parents forced him into a profession that he doesn’t want. So, he’s taking all of his anger and frustration out on anyone that crosses his path. He acts first, asks questions later,” Connor said, with a serious stare.

“Okay…” sang Jamie, with a giggle. “Not that you’ve given it a lot of thought of anything.”

“Of course not,” he chuckled. “I’m only playing,” he added, with a weak smile. As Jamie’s eyes met his, she felt her cheeks burn and her heart pang. “What about you?” Connor asked her, as he took another slice of pizza. “Who’re you gonna be?”

“Hmm, I think I’ll be a lawful-good rogue,” Jamie decided, cupping her hand to her chin.

“A rogue can’t be lawful-good,” declared Connor, with a chuckle.

“Can so,” Jamie argued, with a pout.

“You’re essentially a thief,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, I’m the female Robin Hood,” Jamie told him, with a beaming grin. Connor’s eyes narrowed and his mouth scrunched into one corner, as he gave her an inquisitive look. Folding her hands to her chest, Jamie stuck her tongue out at him.

“Okay, you win,” sighed Connor in defeat, with a cheeky smile.

“Yey!” cheered Jamie. Stretching across the table, to the game’s box, Jamie grabbed a handful of the unpainted figures and held them up, towards the candlelight, looking for one that most resembled a hooded rogue.

“I missed your smile,” Connor said in a soft, sad tone, watching Jamie’s smiling face glow against the light of the candles, as she placed her figure beside her small pile of dealt cards.

“Yours too,” Jamie whispered, softening her smile, as she allowed her eyes to meet his. A warmth tingled in her chest. “Yours too.”

 

*

 

As time passed, all of the tea lights and small, stick candles burnt out. All that remained was a single flame, flickering alone, in a glass jar that sat on the table, between them. Connor had collected it, from his secret stash, when the first of the tea lights began to fizzle out. The remaining flame’s woody scent reminded Jamie of a picnic Connor had once taken her on, in a grassy field, surrounded by a thick forest.

A collection of tokens and cards lay scattered in various places on the grid-covered board, on the coffee table. Jamie and Connor’s character pieces were nearing a clearing, in the centre of the board. “I think that’s enough adventuring for me,” said Connor, with a yawn. Stretching a hand out, over his head, he brushed against the top of their fort and bashed his elbow against one of the chairs.

“Yeah, it must be late,” Jamie agreed, as she struggled to keep her eyelids open.

“I’ve got work early tomorrow,” muttered Connor, rubbing a hand to his soon-to-be bruised elbow.

“Are you going to be okay to go in tomorrow?” Jamie asked, as she crawled out from their blanket fort and stood beside the window. Darkness still loomed over the street. She pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket and flickered its torch on.

“Yeah,” replied Connor, as he blew out the candle and clambered out of the fort. Standing beside Jamie, he forced the left corner of his mouth into his cheek and told her, “I’m feeling a bit better, thanks.”

“I guess I’d better get going then,” she said, with a shrug. Jamie gave Connor a warm smile and a nod, before turning towards the living room door.

“Stay with me,” Connor blurted out, grabbing Jamie’s elbow. “Please,” he added, as Jamie spun around to face him. His brow puckered. “I haven’t been on my own in so long. You can’t go. Not tonight.” His eyes trembled, as he gazed at her.

“Okay,” whispered Jamie, with a nod. “I’ll sit with you, until you fall asleep.”

“Promise you won’t leave me,” he whimpered, with a shaking bottom lip.

“I won’t leave you,” she told him, looking Connor in the eyes.

“Promise?” he asked, in a high voice.

“I promise.”

A weak smile stretched across Connor’s face and the lines on his forehead faded. As he walked past Jamie, Connor scooped her hand into his, as he led her up the stairs, in the dark, in silence.

Crawling across his bed, Connor fumbled into the covers and patted the empty space beside him, as he looked up at Jamie. She sat on the top of the covers, beside him and switch the torch off on her phone. As she curled her legs up, underneath her, she prodded the right corner of her mouth into her cheek and looked at Connor. He had removed his glasses and bundled the duvet around his shoulders, and was now gazing up at her, with a soft smile and sparkling eyes. “Thank you,” he croaked, as he took her hand in his. “I really mean it, Jamie. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“You didn’t need me, silly,” she replied, sliding her hand out from his. “Anyone would have done the same.”

“No they wouldn’t” he growled, arching his head away from her. “No one cares about me. They’re all too busy. They wouldn’t notice if I was dead.”

“Yes, they would. Your friends and family all care about you. You just don’t like to worry them. If you phoned any one of them, they would’ve been here in a heartbeat.” Shuffling towards Connor, Jamie stroked a thumb across his ear.

“No they wouldn’t,” he mumbled. His stiffened shoulders relaxed from her touch.

“This time tomorrow, everything will be back to how it was,” whispered Jamie, her breath on the back of his neck, as she continued to run a comforting hand across his ear. “Beth will be lying here, cuddled up beside you and you’ll be fantasising about your dream wedding together and whatever happened between you, will be completely forgotten.” Jamie sniffed, as the inner corners of her eyes began to sting.

“I don’t want Beth. I want you,” Connor told her, as he turned to over to face her. His eyes widened. His chest raced. He hugged a hand to Jamie’s upper arm.

“You’re hurting, silly,” Jamie replied, as her brows slanted together. Lowering his head, the corners of Connor’s mouth turned down. His hand drooped from Jamie’s arm and flopped beside him. “Connor,” Jamie sighed, as she stroked her hand across his cheek. “I care about you, a lot. More than you probably deserve,” she told him in a soft, gentle tone, her voice not much louder than a whisper. “I won’t let you do or say something you’ll later regret. I don’t want you hurting Beth.”

“I regret not being with you,” he cried, placing his fingers on Jamie’s hand at his cheek, as he looked at her.

“You’re being silly now,” she warned him, in a slight sing-song voice, as she slipped her hand away from him. Hugging her hands to her elbows, Jamie stiffened her body, as she shuffled down in the space beside him. “You know things between us will never work,” she said, unable to control the sadness that crept into her voice, staring all the while at Connor’s hand that lay between them. “You always said we want different things,” she sniffed. “You want whatever it is you want, and I want someone who I can live with and it just be me and them, no housemate, no family living with us, who has their own hobbies and can do their own thing sometimes and let me have my own space to do my own thing, when I need to.” Tightening her grip on her elbows, Jamie daggered her nails into her skin. “I need someone who doesn’t tell me to lower my expectations, when my only expectation is to see them, on the rare occasion they say we can spend time together,” she went on, with a croak to her voice, as a lump lodged in her throat. “I need someone who believes in me and doesn’t tell me that I can’t do things, or say wouldn’t cope around their family or friends, without letting me try, because they’re not willing to stick up for me and change the subject to something I’m good at, when they can see I’m struggling.” Her chest shuddered, as she inhaled a shaky breath. “I need someone who is proud to call me their partner and not hide my existence from everyone they know. I need someone who, when they say they’re going to meet me somewhere, they actually show up, or at the very least, if they can’t make it, tell me,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “Instead of standing me up. I’m not worth enough to you. We both know that,” Jamie squeaked, as her voice faded. Her chest trembled. Warm, salty liquid tingled into the inner corners of her eyes.

Keeping her stare fixed on Connor’s hand, Jamie continued, “You don’t want what I want. You want a beautiful lady, who can make you happy and be there for you, who doesn’t have Asperger’s, ADD or bad anxiety, who hasn’t spent the first twenty-four years of her existence being mentally abused, who knows how to fix every single situation and is cheerful and upbeat all of the time, who you’re not disappointed in or ashamed of and want everyone to know you are with her.” Jamie paused and forced a swallow at the lump in her throat. “And you’ll want to share pictures of the two of you with your friends, not hide them in the bottom drawer of your desk, beneath a bunch of rubbish.” As Jamie inhaled another shaky breath, her voice box gave an involuntary squeak. “And you’ll want her to meet your friends and your family. That’s not me. That was never me, Connor.” Shaking her head, Jamie flickered her eyes towards his. “You’re hurting,” she said again, her squeaking voice, no louder than a whisper. “And you’re only being nice to me, because I’m here and I’m being nice to you.”

“I’m sorry I was so horrible to you,” Connor whispered, with a croak. His eyeline sparkled, as his chest trembled. Tightening gripped at his chest, as his heart twinged. He sniffed, before stretching a hand out, brushing it against Jamie’s cheek. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You did mean it, Connor,” she squeaked, through sparkling eyes. “We tried and tried, and things just didn’t work. You told me you didn’t feel a thing towards me, that I might as well be a stranger on the street.” Squeezing her eyes tight, Jamie tugged Connor’s hand from her face. “Don’t confuse you hurting with the truth, Connor, please,” she whispered, in a shaky voice, looking over at him.

Connor scrunched his face up at her words. As she looked at him, Connor arched his face away from her. Tugging pulled at his heart. He sniffed, rolling over onto his left side, away from her. Leaning towards him, Jamie stroked a finger against a small sticking out curl, above Connor’s right ear. “Just because you don’t care for me, it doesn’t mean I don’t still care about you, silly,” she squeaked, with a sniff, letting out a soft giggle. “I always have and always will,” she whispered, lowering her hand to his shoulder. “No matter what happens, you will never be alone, because you will always be in my heart and in my thoughts.” Inhaling a shaky breath, she gave Connor’s shoulder a squeeze. “Now, please try and get some sleep.”

Rolling over to face her, Connor’s eyebrows slanted upwards, as he snivelled, “You’re so good to me.” He exhaled a breathy gasp, with sparkling eyes, before snuggling his head at her chest and wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, squeezing her tight. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he murmured over and over.

“It’s okay,” whispered Jamie, stroking a hand to his head. “It’s okay.”

With Jamie’s rhythmical, comforting, hand stroking his short scruff of hair, Connor’s shaky breaths slowed. He let out a hum, as she placed a soft, gentle kiss on the top of his head. “Thank you,” said Connor, with a grin, as he lifted his head up to face Jamie. His eyelids lowered, as he leant towards her. Jamie’s insides spiralled, as she twisted her head away from Connor, showing him her cheek, as his lips puckered. She let out a nervous laugh, feeling an eruption of butterflies flutter in her stomach, as his lips pressed against her cheek.

“Try to get some sleep,” she whispered. “You’ll feel better about things in the morning.” With a sleepy grin, Connor nodded and settled his head down on his pillow.

 

*

 

Not long passed, before Connor began snoring. With his arm draped over Jamie’s waist and his head nuzzled against her shoulder, Jamie could not help but smile, as she gazed down at him. The butterflies in her insides continued to flutter around, as she attempted to slip out of Connor’s grip and sneak out of the bedroom. Standing in the doorway, Jamie turned back, to look at Connor, asleep. Her heart panged. Clutching her hands to her chest, she gave a sniff, before leaving the bedroom, closing the door behind her and sneaking down the stairs.

Jamie entered the living room, using her mobile phone to light the way. Tugging at the tasselled sheet that stretched over the back of the settee, creating their blanket fort, Jamie lowered it to the floor and sat down on the settee. She prodded her thumb into the phone, switching the torch off and checking the time. It was quarter-past-midnight. Clawing a hand through her hair, Jamie groaned, as she brought her knees up to her chest and continued to prod her fingers into her phone’s screen. “I’m so sorry I never got back to you, Keith. I was going to phone you, but I didn’t realise it was so late.  Connor has only just fallen asleep – he doesn’t want me to leave. So, I’ve snuck downstairs. I think he’s okay now. He said he’s going into work tomorrow, so hopefully I helped. Hope you’re okay and you managed to find something positive to focus on today. I hope this message doesn’t wake you,” she typed to her friend Keith. Before Jamie could put her phone down, Keith’s name illuminated her phone, calling her. “Hello? Keith, are you okay?”  she asked.

“I’m alright,” he told her. “I’ve been worried about you though.”

“Don’t be. I’m fine,” she told him, with a nervous chuckle.

“Fine?” repeated Keith, in a frustrated tone. “Fine? You’ve been at that dingbats house all night. How can you be fine?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Jamie sighed, rolling her eyes. “Well, we have a power cut, but everything’s fine.”

“I know you,” Keith warned. “You use the word, ‘fine,’ when you’re not okay,”

“Keith,” Jamie sang, with sigh. “I really am okay.”

“That dingbat didn’t try anything, did he?” he grumbled.

“No,” Jamie told Keith, as her shoulders deflated from his interrogation. Prodding the right corner of her mouth into her cheek, Jamie’s mind wondered back to earlier, where Connor was hugging her chest and raised his head to kiss her. The butterflies spiralled around in her stomach. “He didn’t try anything and even if he did, I wouldn’t let him,” she clarified.

“Good,” muttered Keith. “I don’t want him taking advantage of you. You deserve so much more than him.”

Hearing Keith’s words, Jamie’s heart sunk to the depths of her stomach. A tingling washed over her face. As the inner corner of her right eyes stung, she sniffed, and squeezed her free arm around her knees. “I don’t even know why you went,” Keith fumed. “After the way he treated you.”

“I know,” Jamie sighed. “Look, it was the right thing to do,” she muttered. “I would never forgive myself if he did something stupid.”

“You should’ve let him,” Keith barked. “He wasn’t there for you when you needed him. You were alone, in hospital, dying and he didn’t care. He was off with someone else, doing who knows what.”

“I know,” she sniffed.

“I’m sorry,” Keith gasped. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It’s okay,” Jamie murmured, with a sniff.

A floorboard creaked. Jamie gasped. Her eyes widened. She froze for a moment, listening to the noises of the house. Silence. ‘Phew,’ she thought, worried Connor had woken up and was wandering around, looking for her. As the silence continued, Jamie released the breath she had been holding. “Everything okay?” asked Keith.

“Yeah, I just thought I heard something, but it must be nothing,” she replied, with a nervous laugh. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in this house. I’m not used to the creaks, that’s all.”

“I wish you hadn’t gone tonight,” said Keith, in a disappointed tone. “You were doing really well, I know you were. Now you sound so frail and upset. I knew he would do this to you.”

“I can’t help it, okay?” Jamie exclaimed in a squeak, with a sad sigh, as a creak sounded from the stairs, behind her. “No matter how hard I try, no matter what I do or who I spend time with, I never got over Connor. You know that,” she sniffed. “I try, I really do. I’ve been keeping busy. I work hard at my job, I write stories, go on long country walks, I paint pictures, I sew things, I got back into doing tarot readings, I talk to you and our other friends online. I try so hard to distract myself,” Jamie went on, as she clawed a hand through her hair. “I’ve tried dating,” she said with a frustrated exhale. “But it only made me feel that I’d rather be on my own… and I tell myself this all the time, but whenever I’m down or sad or scared, it’s thoughts of Connor that pop into my head.”

Squeezing her arm around her knees tighter, Jamie pressed her chin onto her knee and slumped her shoulders. “I don’t purposely do it,” she continued. “And I try really hard to think of you or my mum or anything else, but it’s him that my brain thinks of,” she said with a deflated sigh. “But thinking of him does help.”

“I know,” she heard Keith whisper back, as she inhaled a long, slow breath.

“Remembering how he would hold me, when I was upset and make me laugh and come up with things to distract me,” Jamie’s voice crackled, as her vision blurred. “It cheers me up every time… until it makes me miss him,” she murmured, with a sniffed. “I’m doing better though,” she told Keith. “I know I am .”

“I know you are. I know you are,” Keith repeated. “But you’re still not over him though,”  he added, with a sigh.

“No,” Jamie mumbled, sniffing. “But it doesn’t mean I’ve let Connor take advantage of me,” she told him, as she swallowed at another lump in her throat. “Yes, it’s been hard, hearing him talk about his fiancée, knowing that she’s been living here and spending time with him and waking up beside him.” She shuddered a breath, before continuing, “And that he’s been happy with someone else, when I never got to experience any of those things. And I know he doesn’t care about me. I know that,” she repeated, with frustration in her voice. “He told me so. He hates me and I have no idea why. I never tried to hurt him, it just hurt so uncontrollably that he was hurting me and I felt like he didn’t care. That was the last we spoke, and it was over text. I know he hates me. I know things between us will never work. He told me time and time again, over the four years we were together that it wouldn’t work. I’m not going to forget all of that, just because he’s hurting,” Jamie raged, scrunching up her nose and daggering her nails into the side of her leg.

“Good,” muttered Keith, as the house gave another creak.

“I know you don’t agree,” Jamie told him, as her voice returned to her soft, gentle tone. “But I had to be there for him. I just had to. After everything we’ve been through, he chose to contact me, of all people, when he felt at his lowest.”

“Because he knew you’d shower him with attention,” Keith grumbled.

“I know it doesn’t mean anything,” Jamie sighed, hearing another creak. “I still care about him, more than anything, more than anyone else I have ever met,” she sighed. “And it made me realise that I wasn’t being silly, when I pushed away any of the people I tried dating, because it didn’t feel right. Seeing Connor again, everything felt right… like it’s supposed to. It was so hard not holding him and wanting to kiss him and tell him that I love him, but I didn’t and I didn’t let him trick me, either,” she warned. “But it’s just going to make everything so much harder, once I never hear from him again, come morning.”

“If he’s going to use you, you should use him,” said Keith, with a spiteful laugh.

The living room door creaked open. “Connor?” Jamie gasped, as he appeared in the doorway. “What are you doing up? How much of that did you hear?” she cried.

“Jamie, I,” he breathed.

“Don’t let him manipulate you,” Keith growled in her ear.

“Keith, I’ll text you later, I promise,” Jamie told him and hung up.

Switching her torch back on, Jamie placed her phone on the coffee table, illuminating the settee. “Sorry Connor, you were asleep, so I thought I’d leave you in peace,” Jamie muttered. “I wasn’t going to leave your house,” she added, seeing his brows slant upwards and his lips part.

“Whose Keith?” muttered Connor. Lowering his eyes to his socks, Connor’s shoulders drooped. “Is he your husband?”

“No,” said Jamie, in a soft voice. “I’m not married or engaged,” she told him, as she shook her head. “And Keith’s just a good friend. He was looking out for me.”

“So, you told him about me,” Connor muttered, as he continued to stare at the floor.

The right corner of Jamie’s mouth prodded down, as her intestines knotted. “Keith texted me, when I went to get you a glass of water, earlier,” she confessed, hugging both of her arms around her knees and staring down at a patch on the floor. “When you fell asleep, I came down here to message him, but he got worried about me and phoned me.”

“Oh,” muttered Connor. “I never meant to hurt you. That’s why I pushed you away,” he told Jamie, as he dopped into the space beside her on the settee. “I thought you were better off without me,” he grumbled. “I only hurt you.”

“Not always,” Jamie whispered, arching her head around to face him. “You were always nice to me in person,” she said, prodding the right side of her mouth into her cheek. “You were just a different person when we were apart.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, flickering a glance towards her.

“Don’t be,” Jamie whispered, with a shrug, as she returned to staring at the floor. “I’m the one who should be sorry, for not coping with being apart for so long and with you only wanting to see me for an hour or so once every six to eight weeks. I should have been more grateful.” Jamie shrugged again, as she seeped in a sharp inhale. “And I’m sorry I always got so upset every time you stood me up and had a go at you for it. I should have just kept quiet and pretended I was okay, no matter how much I was hurting.” Jamie sniffed and her vision blurred, as her eyes filled with salty liquid. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” she went on, as her voice returned to a whispered squeak, “because we were never right for each other. You always liked to remind me how we both want different things.” Sniffing again, she pinched her eyes tight.

“You always wanted a grand, fantasy fairy tale, happily ever after, placing me on a pedestal,” Connor muttered, with a sigh. “I couldn’t handle that.”

“No I didn’t,” she squeaked, shaking her head. “That’s always been in your head. My version of a happily ever after is just living with someone that I care about and it just being the two of us – no housemates or living with each other’s parents or siblings, just the two of us. That’s all I ever wanted… but I’ve learnt that I can never have that.”

“Why?” he asked. Jamie shrugged. Prodding her left cheek into her knee, she looked down at a grease stain on Connor’s trousers.

“There’s no one out there for me,” she muttered, in a tiny voice, barely moving her mouth. Her heart gave a deep thud, as her stomach churned. “I’m too old anyway,” she added, with a sigh. “Everyone remotely close to my age is already married, or in a long-term relationship.” Pinching her lips in, she shrugged her shoulders again. “I think I’m too selfish to be able to live with anyone anyway.” She flickered Connor a glance, poking the right corner of her mouth down.

“Selfish?” repeated Connor, with a frown. “You’re the least selfish person I know,” he exclaimed.

“I just want peace and quiet and to be left alone,” Jamie replied, returning her sight to Connor’s grease stain. “But I can’t afford to live on my own, so I just have to suck it up and stop complaining. Sorry,” she said, with a nervous giggle. “I didn’t mean to rant.”

“No, it’s fine,” Connor replied.

“Sorry if I woke you,” murmured Jamie, as she twisted herself around to face him. “You should get back to bed.”

“You didn’t wake me,” Connor told her. “I woke up and got scared when you weren’t there,” he admitted, as his voice croaked.

“I’m sorry,” Jamie whispered, gazing at his sad expression. “I couldn’t stay up there, with you asleep, beside me. I know I’m being silly, but it felt,” Jamie paused. Sliding her feet to the floor, Jamie twisted herself around to face Connor, as she inhaled a shaky breath. “It just hurt too much. I’m sorry… I wasn’t going to leave the house,” she added, as she shook her head, fighting against another lump in her throat. “I just couldn’t sleep beside you, in your fiancée’s place. It didn’t feel right.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor breathed. Staring back into Jamie’s sparkling blue eyes, he placed a hand on her knee. A tingling erupted from Jamie’s intestines. Her lips parted, as she gazed back into Connor’s hypnotising brown eyes, with little green flecks. “I never meant to upset you,” he whispered. “Not now. Not ever.”

A beaming smile stretched across Jamie’s face. The inner corners of her eyes itched, as salty liquid prickled into her eyeline. Her heart twinged, sending a tingled down her arms, all of the way to the tips of her fingers. She sniffed, clasping a hand to her chest.

“I never forgot you, you know,” said Connor, with a sniff, as his chest trembled. “I tried to forget you. I really tried, but I couldn’t,” he murmured, giving Jamie’s knee a squeeze. “You were always there… at the back of my mind.”

“You too,” she whispered back.

“I wanted to reach out, but I couldn’t,” Connor went on. “I hated you,” he croaked, forcing a swallow. “But I don’t hate you now,” he added, with a sniff. “You saved me. You’re good at saving me,” he chuckled, with a weak, teary smile.

“I try,” replied Jamie, with a nervous laugh.

“I know you do. And I’m sorry that for any moment I ever made you feel as though you weren’t good enough,” he told her.

“Thanks,” whispered Jamie, with a sparkling smile.

Seeing Jamie’s infectious smile, a grin grew across Connor’s cheeks, as a chuckled hum escaped him. “Come here,” he sang. Leaning towards the red head, Connor slid his right arm under Jamie’s knees and gripped his left hand around the back of her waist and scooped her up, onto his lap. Jamie giggled against him, as she pressed a hand to Connor’s chest. “I missed your giggle,” he told her, brushing her hair from her face. “Thank you for looking after me,” Connor said in a soft, low voice, as he pressed his forehead against hers.

“You’re welcome,” Jamie whispered back, feeling the apples of her cheeks tingle. Connor stroked a hand across her cheek. More butterflies danced in her insides. Connor’s eyes lowered, as his lips parted. Jamie fluttered her eyes closed. As Connor’s nose brushed against Jamie’s, her lips parted. Light flickered through their closed lids. Jamie gasped. She flinched away from Connor, opening her eyes. The lights were on.

Leaping off Connor’s lap, Jamie announced, “The power’s back on,” with a nervous laugh.

“Yeah,” Connor muttered, forcing a swallow, as he ran a hand across the back of his neck. Reaching out for her phone, Jamie swiped it from the coffee table and turned the torch off, before returning it to her pocket.

“Well, erm,” murmured Jamie, through flushing cheeks. “You should get back to bed and get some sleep. Didn’t you say, you have work early in the morning?”

“Yeah,” Connor muttered. Pushing himself up, from the settee, Connor stepped into the space beside Jamie. “Will you stay with me, please?” he asked in a soft, gentle voice, gazing down at the red head. Jamie nodded, feeling the tingling return to her cheeks, as she beamed back at him. “Good,” grinned Connor. A smile stretched across his face, as he slid his hand inside Jamie’s, switched the light off and led her out of the room.

- Josie -