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He rubs his eyes tiredly and the worry lines on his face fall away. “Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to yell.” He steps over to me and pulls me into his arms, hugging me tight.

I hug him back weakly, too wound up and confused to put any real emotion into it. At least, that’s what I convince myself. It can’t be that I just don’t love him, because I want to love him, I’m desperate to love him. It would solve all of my problems if I could love him.

“I have to finish getting ready.” I use all of my non-existent acting abilities to keep my voice steady.

James releases me and follows me to the tiny bedroom where my makeup vanity is set up. “Aren’t you excited? I mean, you actually went to school with these guys. How unbelievable is that? I can’t believe you don’t own any of their music or haven’t ever been to a show.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as James yammers on and on, trying my best to ignore him and the blossoming anxiety that has me ready to retch up the small amount of food I managed to eat today. Grabbing my brush, I yank it through my hair but it’s no good. I finally throw the brush down and let my hair stay as is, tumbling down my back in loose waves. After applying a minimal amount of makeup, I turn to James, “Okay, I’m ready to go.”

I’ll never be ready for this, yet here I am, going along with it.

“This is going to be so much fun,” he says as we pull out of the drive.

I glance at James from the passenger seat of his unmarked police car, then back out at the city, unable to come up with anything appropriate to say.

“Ellie? Are you alright?” he asks after a few minutes of silence. James puts his hand on my knee and gently pats it. “You don’t look well darling.”

“I’m okay,” I answer, giving him a weak smile.

Actually, I think I’m going to lose my lunch. I must be mental, allowing my fiancé drive me to a concert that my ex-boyfriend is headlining.

“I really thought you’d like to go. I wouldn’t have bought the tickets otherwise.”

James surprised me a month ago with tickets to the big Sphere of Irony show at Wembley Stadium thinking I’d be perfectly chuffed to watch my old schoolmates perform. He has no idea that Adam and I were a couple, or any of our history together, and I’m certainly not going to tell him. Pretending to be thrilled to go tonight has been difficult if not impossible, but he’s so damn excited that I can’t bring myself to fake an illness at the last minute like I had previously planned.

“No James, I’m brilliant. You’re right, this will be fun.” I smile weakly. “Let’s just hurry and get there, I’m feeling a wee bit car sick.”

“Oh, sorry love. That must be why you’re all pasty.”

Yeah, if only that were the reason.

He lets me sit in silence for the rest of the ride and parks the car in front of a restaurant near the stadium.

“I thought we’d get a quick bite before heading over,” he says brightly after helping me out of the car.

“Sure, whatever you want.” I curl my hands up so tight that I’m sure my nails are drawing blood from my palms. James puts his large hand on my lower back and directs me into a small, but posh, Japanese restaurant.

We’re seated and I immediately order a flask of warm sake, earning a questioning look from James.

“What?”

“Is alcohol really the best way to cure motion sickness?” he asks. “You should get the ginger tea instead.”

Annoyed, I scowl at him. “I want a drink, James. I’ll eat some of the pickled ginger if my stomach acts up again.”

He holds his hands up in surrender, not wanting to fight with me. I study him as he reviews the menu. James is gorgeous, dark and rugged and masculine looking. He’s well over six feet of pure, bulky, muscle and intimidating as hell when he’s interviewing victims or suspects at the police station. I should know, we met when he responded to a break in at my old flat almost two years ago.

I turned him down immediately when he asked me on a date after the first break-in. When it happened again six months later, and I came home to find Callum Murray in my lounge waiting for me, I decided I could use someone large, scary, and in law enforcement in my life.

I took him up straight away on his repeat offer to go out with him when he contacted me after I healed from my injuries. A concerned neighbor had called the police the day of the break in, but they didn’t arrive until after Callum had broken my collarbone and several ribs, as well as slashed one of my wrists with a razor blade.

Even with James in my life, and moving to my current flat in Highbury, I’m still terrified that Callum will find me again. I had no idea he would hold so much resentment against me that he would seek me out four years after finishing sixth form. James said Callum had been in prison for a while, or he most likely would have come for me sooner.

After the second incident, Callum was arrested, processed, and sentenced to a year in prison. I got a restraining order, a very real fear of being killed by him someday, and a hulking detective fiancé that I’m not in love with. Plus, I dropped out of school for a while to cope with the stress.

“Done?” James asks, pointing at my half-empty bowl of miso soup.

My head snaps up and I realize that the waitress is standing over me, waiting to take my dish.

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