Page 74 of Love Unlocked

‘Are you okay, Melody? You can come over here if you like. I won’t, we don’t have to, I’m not going to jump on you. You can sleep here.’

‘Thank you, I appreciate it. But I really think I need to be alone. Can you help me be alone?’

She sounds sad and scared but determined.

He smiles. ‘I can. I have a funny story to tell you about work today that you’re going to love.’

If she was more comfortable she would have howled at the story about Walter holding a dildo up before two gardaí, but she is nicely entertained which calms her. Then she’s worried about the gardaí coming for her and she wants to stop walking in order to concentrate on deleting the dating app and the account immediately but he encourages her to keep going. He needs to get her home safely.

They talk while she walks up the three flights of stairs to her apartment, Al filling her in on the details of his rowing race, as she walks through the empty rooms of her apartment, turning on lights, waiting for someone to jump out at her. Her voice is shaky, as she kicks open doors like a ninja and switches on lights. He hears her lock the door, check the windows, open and close wardrobe doors, the balcony sliding door. He hears the tightness in her breathing, the clipped tense words. He learns almost as much listening to her as he did when she was in his office and bed.

They were so familiar with each other, so early. Trapped in the revolving door together.

Something stirs in him, in his frozen heart. A thawing perhaps. It connects with his head, they send a message to each other, both in agreement. We definitely like her. A lot. But it’s so soon, a little internal voice whines at his heart and head. And he doesn’t want to get hurt again. It almost killed him. The wound has only scabbed over, it could fall off and be out in the stinging air at any time. But Melody doesn’t deserve to be phased out, she isn’t the one who hurt him. His mind battles back and forth.

‘Okay,’ she says, ‘I’m going to get my PJs on.’

‘Can we FaceTime?’

She FaceTimes him and when she appears she’s pulling a vest over her head. She tugs off her jeans. He watches as she steps into a tiny pair of shorts and then she gets into bed.

‘Mmm,’ he says, enjoying the sight and sitting back in his bed, getting comfortable.

Melody couldn’t be further from the mood he’s in. She sits up in bed, lights on full, looking around, eyes alert, wide awake.

‘Tell me about your weekend,’ he says, trying to keep her calm.

‘Oh, where to start. It’s been such a good one,’ she says, sarcastically. ‘Do you want to hear about how my ex-boyfriend is throwing me out of my business?’

‘Absolutely.’

He’s all ears, and she’s all words, and again, that honesty. He listens to her voice because at some stage she turns off the lights and he can see a vague outline of her but he places the phone next to his head and he closes his eyes, feeling like she’s beside him, which he wishes she were.

She stops occasionally because she hears a sound or noise and he opens his eyes, alert, and talks her through it. She leaves her bedroom, checks the apartment. Then calmed, she gets back into bed and continues her story. She’s so jumpy he can see why she can’t get a good night’s sleep alone.

‘And then he actually said, or implied, that I had gone into business with him not because I felt guilty but because I was still in love with him.’

‘And are you?’

‘No,’ she says quietly. ‘But it’s hard to let go of someone, isn’t it.’

‘Yeah. Especially when it comes out of the blue. I don’t think I would have taken it so hard if I felt we were breaking down at some point. I didn’t see it. It just happened.’

‘Break-ups don’t just happen though, they’re already happening. The break-up is the finale. I separated myself from Sam long before he tried to propose to me. That was just how it ended.’

Suddenly, once sleepy, he’s alert. A new perspective. Of course Melody is right, the end didn’t just happen, things had been sticky for a while, he just couldn’t figure out why.

‘Can I be honest with you, Al?’

‘When are you not?’

‘I think you’re not that hurt about losing your fiancée.’

He laughs. She’s surprisingly wrong.

‘What’s her name?’

‘Tara.’