“Spike, you’ve been home for a week and you haven’t left your room other than to go to physical therapy.”

I huff out a breath and hold up my hand to interrupt where he’s going with this. “D, I’m gonna stop you right there.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenges. “Well, what if I keep talking, huh?” I shoot him a warning glare to stop him from talking, but he shoots a look right back with a harder edge and continues in that authoritative tone that I’m fucking beginning to hate. “We’re all walking on eggshells in case we upset you. Arianna cries every day that you don’t seem to make progress, because she feels responsible, and you know how much I fucking hate to see her cry. You’re not the only one that’s been affected here, Spike, and it’s about time you opened your eyes to that.”

“D …” I warn.

“No,” he snaps. “You hear me out for once. It’s been nearly eight weeks since the accident, you’ve been home for nearly two of those. I know you’ve suffered a huge fucking loss, but you’re not the only one. Did it ever occur to you that not only did we lose Jack, but we lost you too? Only you’re actually alive and you could try to make the best of a bad situation.”

“I can’t let it go like that, D,” I growl out of frustration, banging my fist down on the arm of my chair, and Denham drops his gaze with a small shake of his head. “It’s easy for you to stand there and say that because you can stand up on your two fucking legs just as easy as it is for you to breathe. Do you know what I would give to be able to stand like that, like you’re standing with your thumbs in the belt loops of your jeans?” I ask rhetorically and his eyes start to glisten with the knowledge that he will never know how I feel. He can only guess. I don’t want him to experience this despair. I know he would take this away from me if he could. But he can’t. No one can. “Look,” I say, taking a deep breath, “I’m trying to get through each day as best I can. I know it doesn’t look like I’m trying very hard, man, but I’m giving it everything I’ve got.”

“I know. I’m sorry, bro,” he offers, clamping his hand down firmly on my shoulder. “Well, the offer for dinner is there if you want it.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, feeling like a total asshole. He walks away quietly without pressing me further and leaves me with nothing but silence in the room and my thoughts raging loudly in my head.

An hour and a half later and I’m still in the same place. Staring out the same window. Thinking the same torturous thoughts that seem to consume my every waking breath. Self-pity city.

I know how frustrated Denham is starting to feel with me because I’m beginning to really piss myself off. I jab the button on the wheelchair to turn the damn thing on and move away from the window. It doesn’t respond immediately and I press several buttons and slam my palm in to the handle out of sheer frustration. State of the art wheels are no match for the real thing. My legs would have automatically moved before I had finished deciding where I was going to go.

“Fucking thing,” I curse under my breath as someone knocks on the door. “D, I told you just walk in, man,” I call out, trying to reign in my temper tantrum. “Not like you’re gonna walk in on me bangin’ some bird, is it?” I mutter bitterly behind gritted teeth as the door opens and the air is sucked from the room.

“Hi,” Lottie says shyly, coming to stand just inside the door.

“Hi.” I can’t help the surprise in my voice. She was the last person I was expecting to see and I immediately feel guilty for my last comment. This is the first time I’ve seen her in five weeks, and it causes such a mixed reaction within me. I hate the awkwardness that bounces between us. It shouldn’t be like this. It was never there before, not even in the beginning. It was me and her, and within minutes of being in her presence, I knew we were going to be us.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I … I know you didn’t want to see me but if you don’t mind, I just want to speak with you for a few minutes.” She fiddles with the buttons on her blouse and it actually pains me to see her, my Lottie, who has always been so brash, so unapologetic and full of life, become so shy and unsure. Her fiery red hair that usually shines as bright as her blue eyes, looks flat.

“Lottie,” I sigh and her gaze drops to her feet. “Lottie, look at me,” I order quietly. She takes a breath before lifting her sad eyes to meet mine. “It’s not that I don’t want to see you, it’s just …”

“I know, Spike. You don’t have to explain. You don’t have to say anything in fact, I just wanted to tell you face to face.”

My heart starts to race. I immediately think the worst. She’s found someone else. I actually feel my heart crumble in my chest then shatter around my feet.

“Can I come in?” she asks nervously.

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, where are my manners. Come in. Do you want a drink?” I wheel over to the couch and switch on to verbal auto pilot, avoiding the impending conversation and drawing out the agony. What did I expect? Did I think she would stay single for the rest of her life? She’s a diamond. A one-off rare find. Behind those pained eyes, there’s a vibrant, shiny, precious jewel of a girl and I should have known it wouldn’t take long before someone offered her everything that I can’t.

“No, thanks. I just had a glass of wine with Ari and D.” She perches on the chair in front of me and places her hands in her lap. She opens her mouth several times to speak, with a frown marring that pretty face of hers. “Spike, I−”

“Lottie−”

We both start to speak, unintentionally interrupting each other. Lottie laughs softly, but more out of awkwardness than genuine humor. “You first,” she offers.

“No, you go,” I insist.

She looks up at me and gives a weak smile. “It’s never been like this between us before, has it?”

“No,” I say regretfully. The uncertainty and pain that shows in her tired blue eyes tugs at my heart so fiercely, it makes me want to look away, but I can’t. I make the most of having her in front of me to take in her features again. I’ve missed her. Of course I’ve missed her. Every second of every day that I haven’t seen her. I’ve read and reread our old texts to each other. I’ve flicked through old photos. But having her in front of me like this makes me realize that you can’t capture Lottie’s presence in memories. She’s too beautiful, too vibrant, to be able to describe and nothing compares to having her in front of me like this. Smelling her perfume subtly floating in the air, feeling the calming effect her presence has on me. It’s the worst kind of torture not having the right to reach out and touch her soft skin. I gave up that right when I gave her back her life.

“I need to tell you something, and I want you to know this is one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made.” I swallow loudly and nod for her to continue, not able to answer her for fear of losing the last thread of composure I’m hanging on to.

“I’m leaving,” she whispers.

Her words take me by surprise. It wasn’t what I was expecting her to say, but fuck if it doesn’t hurt more than I thought it would. “You’re leaving?” I repeat and she nods without looking at me, her gaze fixed firmly on the thumbnail she’s picking at. “Where are you going?”

“To London,” she mutters under her breath, looking anywhere but at me.

“London?”

“Yes. London,” she barks, snapping her head up to look me in the eye. “Are we going to play the repetition game all night, Spike? Because I kinda have stuff I need to do,” she huffs, showing the spark that I fell in love with. The little spark of indignation and life that proves I’ve done the right thing in letting her go to find the flame again. But that little show of her sassiness makes it hurt all the more to know that she’s leaving.