With a trembling finger, I hang up. It’s time.
Surprisingly, a sense of calm washes over me as I pack my phone into my cross-body bag and place it on the floor by the rails. Next to it, I put the paper bag carrying the love spoon I bought for Connor. I hope he finds it and sees how much he means to me.Meantto me, I suppose.
Next, I shakily twist my engagement and wedding rings off. When they find my body, I want Connor to know that I was his in the end, not Rhys’s. The little circles of metal plop softly when they hit the surface of the water. It doesn’t take long for them todisappear into the murky depths.
Looking around to make sure no one’s looking, I lift a leg onto the railing. As I climb onto the other side of the cold metal barrier, I remind myself why I’m doing this. Without me around, Rhys will lose interest in Connor and leave him alone. Connor will be able to move on and be truly happy with someone worthy of him. Everyone in my life will be able to breathe a sigh of relief at not having to feel responsible for me anymore.
You’re worthless and you deserve to die.
I lean forwards so I’m hanging on by my fingertips, the sound of children’s laughter floating on the breeze.
I look down at the murky water and watch the jellyfish dance around each other.
You should be proud of yourself. You’re finally taking responsibility. This is the right thing.
With a final shaky breath of sea air, I slip my fingers from the rail and allow myself to fall.
Chapter 35
The full stop
Connor
“I’m fine,” she insists, but her voice sounds different. “I love you.”
Finally hearing those words come from Tilly should fill me with joy, but all I have is a sinking feeling in my stomach. Something’s not right.
“I love you too. I’ll be there as soon as I can, hold on, okay? Just stay on the line…”
But the call cuts off. Tilly would never just hang up like that; it must be some sort of mistake. Trying to convince myself it was just the signal dipping out, I try to call her back.
Please answer, please answer, please answer…
She doesn’t. The call rings out, and that’s when I start to really panic. This isn’t like Tilly. I know something’s wrong; I can feel it.
What do I do?
The noise of the traffic, the smell of the ocean, the sea breezeon my skin; I’m overwhelmed by sensations. But I need to find Tilly and make sure she’s alright. I turn in the direction of the pier and start walking. Fast.
She was fine when I left her this morning, I try to reason with myself. It’s only been a couple of hours, surely nothing could have changed drastically in that time?
But what if it has? What if something’s triggered her and she’s spiralling alone without me to ground her? To pull her back?
I pick up my pace until I’m in a full sprint, dodging tourists and crossing roads without giving a shit if I get run over or not. People around me carry on with their daily lives, eating fish and chips while dodging seagulls, spending time with their families on the beach. How can they just go on while my world could be crashing down around me?
I finally arrive at the pier. I’m not moving fast enough. I need to get to the other end, but it’s packed with people buying doughnuts and queuing for fairground rides.
“Move!” I call over the chatter, trying to push my way through the crowd. “Get out of the way!”
I keep shouting, my voice cracking with emotion, and the throng finally starts to part, making a path barely wide enough to get through.
Panting, I reach the end and look around, hoping to see Tilly sitting on one of the benches reading her book or coming out of one of the huts carrying a souvenir. Or just to see her at all.
I scan every face, desperate to see hers smiling back at me. But what I find instead is her bag propped up against the railing. It hasn’t been dropped or thrown to the side. It’s been placed. This was intentional.
I try to swallow down my rising alarm as I walk over to her bag and bend down to check the contents. Purse, book, phone with a missed call from me: this is definitely her bag.
“Where the hell are you, Til?” I ask the open air.
