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He swears, fumbling with the car keys. “I should’ve told you to wait in the car.”
I don’t say anything, and as we drive back in silence, I feel the odd looks he keeps giving me, and then sigh. “What, Seth?”
He shrugs his shoulders in what I assume is an attempt at looking nonchalant. “Nothing, I was just wondering if you planned to see this Ferin guy again.”
I roll my eyes. “His name’s Fergus, and I hardly think it’s any of your business.”
Dear God, it feels like I am spending half my time just telling people to mind their business.
He gives me a hurt look. “You know I care about you.”
My shoulders droop, and I sigh. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve just been having a couple of rough days, Seth.”
I feel his hand settle on mine, and I feel comforted by the warm, familiar presence of it.
He gives me a sweet smile. “You know I’m always here for you, don’t you, Sarah?”
My heart lightens, and I find myself smiling back. “I know. We’re family.”
A strange expression crosses his face, but it is gone before I can identify it, and he murmurs, “Right.”
He doesn’t let go of my hand, though.
When he stops in front of my building, he offers to come up with me, and I firmly put my foot down. I don’t need him babying me any more than he already attempts to.
I watch him leave and then make my way up to my apartment.
I am so grateful that it is on the first floor because a glance at a notice on the elevator tells me it isn’t going to be functional for the next few days.
Letting myself into my apartment, I toss the keys on the table and throw myself face down onto the couch.
I want to get up and make myself a cup of tea, but I don’t want to do anything. I want to lie on the couch and feel sorry for myself.
Turning my head so as not to end up suffocating myself, I stare at the black tv screen, trying to empty my head. It feels like a thousand hammers are raining in my skull and I close my eyes, trying to will the headache away.
My purse is on the floor next to the couch, and I hear the vibration, making me sigh and reach down into my bag and feel the contents of my bag, eyes still closed.
Drawing out my phone, I open one eye and peek at the unknown number.
Wincing, I answer. “Hello?”
The Irish accent on the other end makes my eyes pop open in shock. “Fergus?”
“You sound surprised,” I can hear the amusement in his tone.
“How did you get my number?” I ask.
“I took it from Agatha. Listen, I need to talk to you. Are you coming to the bar?”
I groan. “No. My head is killing me.”
He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, and then I hear his muffled voice. “Did you get any sleep after I left?”
It sounds like he is walking and I wonder what he is doing outside in this weather.
“Maybe an hour or two. I couldn’t sleep properly,” I find myself admitting.
“Have you had anything to eat?”
