AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Save yourself the heartache, sweetheart. Reese is… he’s not the right person for you.”
I pull my hand away and take a step back. “I should go.”
Fiona gives me a small nod. “Call me as soon as you’re there.”
“I will.”
I walk away from her and don’t look back.
All while pretending she didn’t just drive a knife right into my heart.
* * *
It takes me less than ninety minutes to get to Lymington. The whole town is asleep, the roads quiet, and the houses steeped in darkness.
I follow the signs for the seafront and park in the small car park. After sending Fiona a quick text to say I’m here, I turn the flash on and take off down to the beach. The rain has cleared a little but the storm lingers, thunder rumbling in the distance.
There’s no sign of Reese or his car, so I dig out my phone and call him.
It rings out.
“Answer, damn it. Answer.”
But the wind is too noisy, whipping around me like an angry howl. Pulling my hoodie up, I trudge toward the row of little beach huts. They’re all closed except for the last one. The door rattles against the frame and I yank it open, shining the torchlight inside.
“Thank God,” I breathe, relief flooding me at the sight of Reese curled up on his side, a bottle of vodka next to him.
“Reese?” I whisper, nudging his foot with mine. “Reese.”
He murmurs something nonsensical but doesn’t wake. I quickly text Fiona and let her know I’ve found him. She texts me straight back.
Fiona: Is he okay?
Olivia: He’s sleeping off a bottle of vodka. I’ll stay with him.
Fiona: Are you sure? Maybe we should come get you?
Olivia: Do you really think that’s a good idea?
Fiona: No, but I don’t like the idea of you there all alone with him.
Olivia: We’re safe and dry. I’ll tell him to call you in the morning.
Fiona: Okay and thank you.
Her gratitude feels empty when she pretty much told me that Reese isn’t right for me.
“Okay,” I murmur, glancing around the beach hut.
It’s small, barely deep enough for Reese to lie down. Somehow, he’s managed to do it. I can probably lie next to him, but it’ll be snug, and if the small trinkets and ornaments lining the shelves are any indication, we’re trespassing. But he’s out cold, and I’m not sure I want to try and fight with him to go somewhere else.
So I do the only thing I can think of. I grab a towel off the rack, roll it up, and place it on the floor next to him. Then, I lie down and slip my arm around his waist.
He looks so peaceful like this, I can’t resist reaching out and tracing his slightly furrowed brows with my fingers.
He inhales a deep breath as if my touch soothes him. I like to think it does. But he’s drunk and passed out. He has no idea I’m here.
