Absolution(85)

“You want to know where I’ve been?” he mumbled into the empty room. “Well, here it is: I’ve been everywhere but here. I’ve been hiding because I hate myself for what I’ve done to you and I can’t fix it or forget it.”

Pent-up frustration escaped in a huff of breath that left him feeling light-headed. He looked up, his gaze settling on the framed photographs on the mantelpiece. Dragging a hand down his face, he hauled himself to his feet and walked over to stand in front of them.

Looking over the photographs as he had several times in the past couple of weeks, he had never felt more alone.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts and he practically ran to the door, hoping it was Ally. Instead, Maggie stood on the doorstep.

“Hi.”

He couldn’t help but feel disappointed. “Hey.”

“I need a favour. Your Dad has a key to Ally’s place. Can I have it please?”

She had a frown line between her eyes, just above her nose. That couldn’t be good.

“What’s going on?”

“I just need it.”

Okay. Not budging.

Maggie followed him down the hall to the kitchen, to the keys that hung on a series of hooks next to the doorway.

“So, are you gonna tell me what the deal is here, or am I expected to guess?” he asked, over his shoulder.

No answer.

He sorted through the key rings until he found one with Ally’s name on it. He had no intention of releasing it to her just yet, though.

She reached out to take it from him.

“Not until you enlighten me.”

“I don’t have time for this,” she snapped.

“Then I suggest you start talking.”

The tension mounted as she appeared to think it over. “She’s having a meltdown.”

He frowned, shaking his head.

“A bad day, or whatever. Y’know, not answering her phone, or the door. I’ve just come from her place, she’s got music blaring so loud I’m surprised the neighbours haven’t complained.”

Ally’s penchant for drowning out the world with loud music when she was upset came flooding back. The wound inside began to fester, breaking open. Was this because of what happened between them last night? He slid the key into the pocket of his jeans.

“We had a fight last night.”

“I know, Callum told me.”

“So maybe she just needs some time out?”

“What the hell would you know? Give me the key,” she snapped, holding out her hand.

“What’s the big deal, what am I missing?”

“Y’know what? Keep the key. We don’t need it.”

She turned on her heel and marched back down the hall.

“Hey!” He jogged after her, grabbing her by the arm. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on here, but I’m coming with you.”

She glared at him. “If you –“

He felt as if his lungs were sitting in his throat. “If I what?”

She shook him off and they eyeballed each other for a moment, before Maggie turned her back on him, making for the front door. “Just stay the hell out of it. We’ll sort it out. You’ve done enough.”

He stared after her, fear rapidly obliterating the confusion from moments ago. What the hell was going on? What had her so frightened?

“I’m coming whether you like it or not,” he said, with more courage than he felt.



Three Years Earlier



Callum paced Ally’s kitchen, wrestling with his instincts. It had been two weeks since the overdose. The only way he could get any sleep at night was to move in with her, to keep an eye on her. She hadn’t even argued about it. In fact, she hadn’t said much at all. She had withdrawn into herself, blocking everyone out, including him. Every attempt they had made to reach her, to get her to open up, had so far been met with silent resistance or total apathy.

He and Tom had met with Ally’s new therapist last week, shortly after her discharge from hospital. Doctor Saunders was in her early forties, a brunette with a kind smile and a quiet way about her that they hoped Ally would respond to.

But he was getting impatient. Tom reminded him that this wasn’t going to be a quick fix – it had taken her twelve months to reach this low, she wasn’t going to just bounce back within a few weeks.

Callum glanced at his watch irritably. Oversleeping was one of the danger signs they had been warned to look out for. She usually got up around six, six-thirty. It was now after eight. He picked up the cup of coffee he had prepared for her and walked along the hall to her bedroom.