Life after Cain was uneventful to begin with. But images of him haunted me. Conversations we’d had during our sessions played over and over in my mind. The sound of his voice the time we had sat in the park before I took him to my home and my bed for the first time kept replaying in my mind like the soundtrack to the most powerful and heartbreaking of all the memories.

Every single time he popped into my head, the accompanying ache knotted my insides and made my eyes sting. It had been a week. That’s all. Just one week. And I was in pieces. There was no end in sight.

I was just about functioning on a day-to-day basis, but being at home, alone, was difficult. I could feel him there. I know that sounds crazy, but it was as if the place were haunted by his memory. I knew he was still alive and I know ghosts are a myth, but it’s the only way I could explain how it felt to be without him.

I was desolate.

I hadn’t known him that long, but that didn’t matter to my heart. Nor did it minimise the vastness of the pain I felt.

Nights were the worst. I would lie in bed and close my eyes, hoping that a dreamless sleep would come and be kind to me, but of course it never happened. My dreams were so vivid. So real. I could feel his fingertips on my body. Smell his skin. Feel his weight on top of me only to wake and discover I was still alone and he was still in America.

Esme had been amazing. I have no idea how I would have got through losing Cain without her. She’d taken me on several nights out—along with lunches, dinners, and even breakfasts. I guessed she thought I wasn’t eating, as she was continually trying to ply me with food. In a way I have to admit that she was right. I had very little appetite.

I threw myself into work head first. I had some very interesting cases to work with, and I was doing a lot of outreach stuff too. Patty was constantly asking if I was okay. I must have been wearing my despondency like a merit badge. I was, however, managing to convince myself that I was fine.

At least I thought I was.

Sitting at home on a Friday night was no fun. But then again, excitement was something that had been distinctly lacking in my life since Cain left. I was halfway through a bottle of red wine and a large packet of very salty crisps when the landline rang.

“Hello?” My tone was filled with disinterest.

“Hi, sexpot! Long time no fuck,” came the familiar chuckle down the line.

“Urgh… Dermott, I’m not coming out if that’s why you’re calling.”

“You’re not? Shit, you sound half-pissed and grumpy as hell. I’ll be right over. You need cheering up.”

“No, no I’m—” The line went clunk as he hung up before I could get my sentence of protest out. Oh, shit.

I glanced down at my scratty yoga pants with a patch of off white in a blob on one leg where I had spilled yoghurt earlier. Well, he’ll just have to take me as he finds me, ‘cause I’m not getting changed.

Twenty minutes later there was a knock on my door. I dragged myself off the couch and looked through the peephole. Dermott’s face looked bulbous as he gurned at me through the tiny hole. I rolled my eyes and yanked the door open.

“There she—” His smile disappeared “Oh, shit, what happened to you?”

“Nothing. Just working hard, that’s all.”

His eyes trailed down my body and back up again. “Well, you look like shit.”

“You don’t have to bloody stay! Fuck off back home!” I shouted, giving him a shove for good measure.

He just laughed and grabbed me, pulling me against his chest. “Oooh, I love it when you’re feisty. When was your last good shag?”

I pushed him away from me. “Good grief, Dermott, is sex all you think about?”

“Nope. I think about the state of the global economy from time to time, but that’s not half as much fun.”

His cheesy grin made me smile as it usually did. He meant no harm. In fact I got the feeling that sex wasn’t actually the thing that was on his mind for once.

“Why are you here?” I huffed sulkily.

He flung his arm around my shoulder and rested his head on mine as we walked into the living room. “Like I said, I got the feeling that you needed cheering up.” He held up the carrier bag in his other hand. “I brought Bridesmaids on DVD. It’s gross in places but so bloody funny. If that doesn’t cheer you up, then nothing will.”

I punched his arm playfully. “Awww. Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me?”

“Nah. I’m hoping you’ll cheer up enough for a quicky.” This time when I punched him it was a lot harder, but all he did was guffaw loudly.

The movie was a lot of fun and we almost ate our weight in popcorn and crisps; but when it was time for Dermott to leave, a sadness seeped in to kick out the temporary good mood I’d been experiencing.

Dermott hugged me as we stood at the door to say goodbye. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

I allowed my gaze to drift anywhere but at him. “No.”

“Don’t beat around the bush, Darrow, eh?”

“Sorry, but it’s just something I have to deal with by myself.”

He sighed and rested his chin on my head. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I’m not fucking you, Dermott.”

He chuckled. “I kind of already gathered that. I just meant to keep you company. You don’t seem yourself, and I’m worried about you.”

His kind tone made my eyes sting, and I pulled away.

He tilted my chin and looked into my eyes, and I could tell he was assessing me. “Have you fallen for someone Kelly?”

Unable to reply with words, I closed my eyes and nodded my head as tears spilled over.

He pulled me into a hug. “Oh, sweetheart. I knew there was something going on. Who is he? Want me to punch him for you?”

“You can’t. He’s not in this country.”

“Shame. If he’s hurt you, I’ll get on a fucking plane and go find him. What did he do?”

“Nothing. He did nothing. He just… had to leave.” He stroked my hair and I was overcome with sadness. “But he didn’t hurt me. Not through any fault of his own.”

“This has been going on a while, hasn’t it?”

I nodded again. “I need to forget about him and get on my with my life. I’m just finding it a little difficult, that’s all.”

He cupped my face and ran his thumbs over my cheeks to wipe away the tears. “Look… I know I’ve treated you like a… like a… well, like a fuck buddy, but… I care about you too, Kelly. I hate to see you so sad. The light’s gone from your eyes and I want to help. If there’s anything that I can do to make this easier, then just tell me, okay? And I don’t mean rebound sex. I mean anything, Kelly. You’re one of my dearest friends, and you’re usually so full of life. Even when you’re tired out, you’ve usually still got fight in you. But now you just look… lost. I don’t like it.”

I forced a smile. “I’m not too keen on feeling this way either.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

I mulled over his suggestion for a few seconds. “Yes. But there won’t be any sex.”

“How about I sleep in your bed and just hold you? I’ll keep my undies on.”

He had a way of making me smile. “That would be nice, thank you.”

He removed his coat, and we made our way back through to the living room. I walked to the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water, brushed my teeth, and stared at my pale face and sunken eyes in the mirror. Dermott was right. The light in my eyes was dim—if it was there at all.

When I arrived in my bedroom, Dermott was already under the duvet. He’d kept his T-shirt on and I presumed his boxers too. I climbed into bed beside him and he pulled me into his warm, comforting embrace. He held me close and stroked my hair as my tears soaked his T-shirt.

I heard him sniffling and I pulled away. “Dermott? Dermott, what’s wrong?”

He cleared his throat and chuckled. “Oh, God, take no bloody notice of me. I’m feeling all sentimental.”

I reached up and wiped his damp cheek. “Sentimental? You? Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know. A mixture of things, I guess. I think I always expected that you and I would end up together, which I know is crazy. But… This is the end of you and me and any chance there was for us, and that’s kind of sad. But… I hate to see you hurting like this. I love you, Kelly. And you deserve to be happy. You deserve someone who can make you smile, not cry. I just hope… I just hope he realises what a sweet, wonderful woman he has left behind and comes back to make things right.” His voice cracked, and his words caused more of my own tears to fall. The tenderness he was showing was so out of character, but I loved him for it. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell him that Cain wasn’t coming back. Ever.

I nuzzled into Dermott’s chest once more, and for the first time ever, I felt that he understood my silence. There was no need for more words. This was the end of the Dermott and me from before. We were entering brand-new territory. As he held me close, I drifted to sleep properly for the first time since Cain had left.