Facing Shadows
Chapter 1
THEN
James is already waiting when I arrive, a fistful of blood-red roses clutched to his chest. My heart does that stupid flutter thing it always does when I see him, and for a moment, my breath just stops.
His smile brightens when he sees me, and he greets me with a tight squeeze, a thorn pressing between my shoulder blades. I bite through the pain with a silent hiss. He smells warm and spicy, with a hint of vanilla. I breathe in deeply, trying to absorb him.
He lets go and holds me at arm’s length, looking me up and down. His eyes settle on my chest. “Babe, you just need to—” He tugs at his shirt collar. “Maybe just pull that up a touch?”
Heat crawls up my neck. I tug my top up a little to hide the tiny bit of cleavage that was on display. I didn’t think it was too low. Maybe it’s the angle I’m looking at it.
When I dressed this morning, I felt good. I thought my new skinny jeans and sunflower-patterned top looked cute. Both hug my fuller figure perfectly, and the navy really brings out my blue eyes and honey-blonde hair. I liked how I looked.
I pull my coat tight across my chest.
We find a table near the back of the coffee shop, and I place my flowers on the tabletop where I can admire them. They really are beautiful. We order drinks, and I eye the cake counter with a watering mouth. I hope I can grab that last slice of Victoria sponge before someone else does.
James sips his coffee and pulls a face.
“Good?” I ask him, nodding at his cup.
“I’ve had better.” He tilts his head to the side, and a slow smile crosses his face. “Why’s your hair up? You know I love it when it’s down.”
I pick up the menu.
“Babe,” he says. “Your hair?”
“I like it up,” I say, keeping my voice light. “It gets in my eyes.”
He makes a low sound in his throat but lets it go. I appreciate he just wants the best for me, he really does, but sometimes he just needs to let things go. It’s my body.
It’s my birthday. Twenty-six today. I woke up to kisses on my nose, coffee already made and cooling by my bed, and an intricately wrapped sapphire necklace with matching earrings pressed into the palms of my hands.
I even booked the day off work as a payroll clerk to spend some quality time with myself this morning and my gorgeous man this afternoon. A gift to myself.
James had meetings all morning, but the afternoon is ours, and I’m excited to see what he has planned. His sense of romance is unparalleled. He’s so attentive. So sweet. And this month we’ll have been dating for six whole months. I can’t figure out if it feels longer or shorter than that.
For someone who has never had a serious boyfriend before, this milestone feels monumental. I’ve had flings, sure, but nothing meaningful.
Mum always said it was Dad’s fault. He left when I was a child, leaving a gaping hole in my ability to trust. But I just think that’s a convenient excuse for my inability to open up to people.
James reaches across the table and takes both my hands in his. His palms are warm from clutching his mug, and I welcome the heat on this chilly January afternoon.
“You know I love you,” he says, looking into my eyes.
My stomach drops. This is how it started last time—the going-away-for-work conversation.
It doesn’t happen often, or for very long. But when he does, I spend the entire time feeling lost and desperately lonely. I hate every second of it. You’d think after living alone for so long, I’d be used to it. But an empty apartment feels so miserable with James gone.
“Where are you going this time?”
He stiffens. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing! I didn’t mean anything. Just asking.”
“I didn’t like your tone.” His voice goes cold, and he turns away to look out of the window.
“Oh no, sorry, babe. It was just a question—”
He turns back. “It’s just London. Three nights. No big deal.”
But how do I tell him it is a big deal? At least to me. I trust him completely, I really do. It’s not about that. It’s just that the people he works with get to have him every day. They have no idea how lucky they are.
He looks disappointed. His deep brown eyes drop to the table as he turns his coffee cup slowly in his hands.
He looks delectable today in his crisp white shirt, the fabric hugging his biceps, giving just a hint of sex-appeal. It’s so hard to stay upset when he looks this good. He really should shave, though—the stubble doesn’t suit him. I’ll keep that thought to myself though.
“When do you go?”
“Tomorrow.”
My phone buzzes on the table, saving me from having to hide my disappointment. Before I can pick it up, James reaches over, turns my phone face-up to see who’s calling me, then sighs.
“It’s your mum. Call her back later. This is our time.” He flashes me a warm smile as if the last ten minutes didn’t happen. I find myself nodding along just to keep the peace. I don’t want to fall out today of all days. Mum’s probably just calling to moan about her neighbours’ bushes blocking her view of the road again.
I hit CANCEL and turn back to James. A sick sense of guilt settles deep in my stomach. I’ll call her back when I’m done here. She’ll want to sing happy birthday to me like she always does. I do feel awful, but James is right, it would be rude to take the call at the table.
A waitress appears at my elbow, clutching two plates. “Cake!” she announces brightly. “For the birthday girl.”
She’s got a smile that lights up her entire face, and her fingernails are manicured to long points. How does she cope with such impractical digits?
I clap my hands together as she places the two slices of cake down in front of me. Chocolate cake. My heart sinks a little. I hate chocolate cake.
James thanks the waitress and turns to me, beaming. His smile drops the moment he clocks my face. “What’s up? Did I do something wrong?”
“No—not at all. This is so sweet.”
I don’t have the heart to tell him I don’t like chocolate cake. I was planning on ordering that huge slice of Victoria sponge, but there’s a little heart piped on the top of this slice, and I can’t exactly send it back. It’s the thought that counts. Though I have told him I don’t like chocolate cake. More than once.
James launches into a story about a client he’s close to securing, and I set my fork down to give him my full attention.
He’s been at Sandra McLean Limited, or SML, for a little longer than we’ve been together and in that time he’s gone from strength to strength. A promotion is already on the cards. With the hours he puts in, it’s surely inevitable. I’m incredibly proud of him. I love how animated he gets when talking about work. He comes alive.
“Right.” He glances at his watch. “I need to go. I have a meeting at one.” He gives my hand a squeeze and leans across the table to kiss my cheek.
My shoulders drop. “Oh, I thought you’d booked the afternoon off?”
He looks at me, frowning. “No?”
“You said yesterday. You said you’d booked it off so we can spend the afternoon together.”
He laughs fondly. “Oh sweetie, you know I can’t take time off right now. Not with this promotion on the line.”
“I know but…” The words die in my mouth. How did I get that so wrong? I’m sure he said he’d booked it off. He even mentioned he needs to start using his annual leave before it expires. I remember agreeing with him.
“See you after work for dinner. Wear something classy.” He winks and picks up his jacket. He’s almost at the door before he turns. “And happy birthday, babe!” he calls, loud enough for the entire room to hear.
Heads turn and I chuckle, hiding behind my hand. He’s such a hopeless romantic.
Never mind, if James can’t take the afternoon off, I’ll just take myself shopping. Spoil myself.
My smile soon fades when I look down at my plate. The huge slab of chocolate cake sits there, picked apart. The roses sit where I left them, splayed across the white tablecloth. In this light they really do look like blood.
I hate chocolate cake. And I hate roses.
“Excuse me?” The waitress turns to me, surprised. “Could I have that slice of Victoria sponge instead? You can take this one away.”
She smiles at me and takes the plate.
Like what you read?
BUY FACING SHADOWS NOW - EBOOK
BUY FACING SHADOWS NOW - PAPERBACK
