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"And?" JJ asks.
"And that the more you humble yourself for your woman, the more used to it you get?"
Sinclair makes a circular motion with his palm, indicating I should continue.
I rise to my feet and begin to pace, slowly. My still-healing wound protests. The various aches and pains I carry from my run in with that motherfucker make themselves known, but I push them aside. Nothing like a bit of pain to cleave clarity through the myriad of thoughts running through my head.
I know what they’re trying to tell me. In fact, I’m sure I spot a glimmer of the thought I need to pin down hiding just out of view in the corner of my mind. I stop, then turn to them. "So, what you’re trying to tell me, what I already know, but what you jokers have clarified further for me, is that I’m not getting out of this. It needs to be an epic kind of a grovel for me to win her back?"
JJ jerks his chin. "More than epic, a grovel as deep as the Grand Canyon—"
"—Followed by a grand gesture of Everest proportions," Michael interjects.
"A grand gesture?”
"The grandest of grand gestures." Sinclair nods.
"No pressure." I laugh nervously.
"It’s only your life at stake," JJ murmurs.
A life that already belongs to her. I took a knife for her. I’d do it all over again, given a choice. It’s my fault that bastard came for her a second time anyway, and I’m going to make sure he doesn’t get another chance.
I look between them. "I’m going to do everything in my power to make it up to her. I’m going to use every resource at my disposal to win her back. But first" —I turn to Michael— “take me to her scumbag stalker. We have unfinished business."
49
Abby
A thirty-five-year-old man in police custody succumbed to his injuries last night in Lambeth hospital. Drew Gockel, a south London resident, was arrested on charges of breaking and entry and assault, and…
The rest of the words on my phone screen blur in front of my eyes. I can’t take my gaze off the picture of the sullen face which resembles that of my stalker. In fact, it definitely is my stalker, though he’s at least ten years younger in the picture. Tension drains from my shoulders. I didn’t realize how stressed I’ve been about this situation, how much a part of me believed he’d come back for me again, until I saw the news piece.That guy? He won’t bother you again,Cade’s voice whispers in my ears.
Is it a coincidence that he’s dead? Did Cade get to him? Nope, Cade couldn’t do that. And, definitely not, when the guy was in prison. Likely, he took a good look at his situation and decided to take his life. I shouldn’t feel so thankful he’s gone. I shouldn’t feel so much more at ease, now that he’s not alive anymore… And yet, the fact that he’s definitely not going to reappear in my life pulses a tremor of relief through my veins. I click out of the screen and rise to my feet, before heading out of my room and toward the kitchen.
It’s been sixteen days since I walked out of the hospital, after that talk with Zara. Three-hundred and eighty-four hours, give or take, since I last saw him. Twenty-three-thousand and forty minutes since I spoke to him. That’s one-point-three million… Stop it, stop counting how much time you’ve been away from him. You need to move on from him.
Penny and Mira arrived to pick me up at the hospital, and I accepted the invitation to stay with Penny. Her flat mate had been on the verge of moving out, so it worked out nicely. I gave up my old apartment—Zara offered to handle the paperwork related to that, and I accepted. She told she didn’t expect me to continue as Cade’s Communications Manager, unless I wanted to—which I said I didn’t. So, she confirmed that she’d find someone else to take over for me. For a second there, I was jealous of the fact that someone else would work in such close proximity to him, then common sense kicked in, and I simply nodded.
Zara also asked me to come work for her as part of the team she’s setting up at Downing Street, but I refused. I’d have loved to work with her, but it seemed like doing so would put me in danger of running into Cade, which I wanted to avoid. And seeing her everyday would remind me of Cade, and I don’t need that.
Before leaving with Penny and Mira, I told her I needed time to consider my options. Then I returned to Penny’s place, where my friends forced me to eat something, and put me to bed. Luckily, I wasn’t hurt, aside from a few scratches and bumps, which had already been treated. But my body felt the toll of everything I’d been through. Penny and Mira moved my stuff to the room in Penny’s walk-up apartment, and I haven’t ventured out for a week.
I used the time to get my strength back and consider my options. Then Ava, who I met through Zara, reached out to me. Her dancing school needed help with social media and promotions, and she asked if I was interested in taking on the assignment. Which I was. And that was a blessing in disguise.
Having something to do helps keep my mind occupied—more or less. Besides, I’m good at my job, and this gives me a chance to help build something from the ground up. Ava’s easy to work with, and despite her connection to Zara—and hence, Cade—she’s never once mentioned them, for which I am grateful. I also haven’t heard from Cade, which is good, right?
It probably means he’s already moved on, as well.He said he loved you. He probably never meant it. He probably even forgot that he said it.Of course, I didn’t stop to look in on him before I left the hospital.You were such a coward. No, it’s called self-preservation, something I need to prioritize so I can move on with my life. In fact, I need to stop hiding at home and start going out with other people.
There hasn’t been any more news about Cade and me in the press, not since that viral engagement video. Like most things, it faded away from the media consciousness, to be replaced by the next newsworthy item. We’re yesterday’s news. And surely, no-one would recognize me if I decided to go out on a date with someone else. My stomach churns, and bile bubbles up my throat at the thought of seeing someone else. I need to get over it, though.
The faster I move on, the easier it will be to put Cade behind me and find the right person for my life. Someone who isn’t Cade, someone who isn’t the man who’s occupied so much of my waking thoughts for most of my life. Damn, the amount of time I’ve spent thinking of him. If I’d used that time and energy focusing on my career, I wouldn’t be trying to start out, yet again.
I put the kettle to boil, then check my phone for messages from Knight. Nothing. No email, no phone calls, no text messages. I replied to his last email, asking him if he was okay. That was a week ago. At some point, I’m going to have to come clean to my brother about me and Cade—a prospect I’m not looking forward to.
I click out of my email, then go to the App Store—hesitate—then download a dating app, which is really more of a hook up app, but hey, I have to start somewhere, right? Before the kettle has finished boiling, I’ve created my profile, though I don’t have the courage to swipe right on any of the profiles that begin to populate my timeline on the app. One step at a time. I’m making a cup of tea when the intercom buzzes.
I walk over to the device hooked into the wall and answer it.
