The flight’s a blur of tears and guilt.
Should I have left?
Have I made a massive mistake?
I spend three hours in Heathrow, questioning every decision, almost convincing myself to get back on a plane to Texas. On the flight to Manchester, I eventually cry myself to sleep, only waking up as the plane hits the runway.
As I look out of the window, the view of cold and rainy Manchester is a sobering one.
Home.
The familiar skyline feels alien. I shuffle off the plane, through the airport, and into the cold British daylight. The airport’s just like I remember, a concrete jungle dotted with travellers smoking desperate cigarettes the moment they pass through the doors. I drop my backpack at my feet, uncertainty overwhelming me. My parents are somewhere in the middle of Eastern Europe, Russia or Belarus, and our house is sold with new people now calling it home.
I pull out my phone and go to dial James, but the black screen reminds me that I turned it off. My fingers hover over the power button. It’s been hours since I ran away from Archer’s Creek.
Echo will know I’m gone.
I pull back, fearful of what I’ll find when I turn it on. A hundred messages demanding I come back, or nothing except silent relief that I’ve left?
I think the silence would be worse.
Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I walk over to the taxi rank. “Piccadilly Gardens, please,” I ask the taxi driver.
He nods and pulls out of the airport and into the traffic towards the city centre. We reach the gardens and the driver slows. “Whereabouts, love?” he asks.
“Anywhere here’s fine.”
He pulls to the side of the road, and I pay him before he speeds away, lost into the flow of cars. It’s afternoon and the gardens are bustling with life, people fill the urban oasis as they pass through the city or stand admiring the burbling fountain.
I sling my pack over my shoulder and walk quickly, leaving the gardens behind me and heading into the maze of tall hotels and apartment blocks. My feet know the route, and minutes later, I’m standing outside the Greek restaurant that James and Dan live above. I push the buzzer and wait, but no one answers.
Pushing again, I hold my finger on the button, letting the shrill sound sing out. “Bloody hell, you only have to press it once. Who is it?” James’s voice makes tears instantly pool in my eyes; it’s been a long time since I saw my best friend.
“You should be more polite. It could be someone important,” I say.
“Liv?” James asks, shocked.
“You gonna let me in or what?” I say. Feet stomp quickly down the stairs, and then I’m airborne. James’s arms are wrapped tightly around me, and tears stream down both of our faces.
“God, I missed you,” I say.
“Me too,” James says. Pulling back, he wipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. “Tea?” he asks. I nod and let him guide me upstairs.
Slumped on James’s old battered sofa, I watch him busy himself in the kitchen. “Liv?” Dan says as he wanders from the bedroom. I stand and rush towards him to be pulled in for a tight hug. He holds me away from him and smiles broadly. “Bloody hell, Liv. What the fuck happened to you?” Dan asks.
I look down at my jeans, trainers, and hoodie. “What do you mean?” I say. With a laugh, Dan kisses my forehead and walks into the kitchen, quickly wrapping his arm around James’s waist and moving him to the side to take over the tea making. He hands me a steaming cup, and both men sit opposite me on the love seat.
Dan stares at me again. “I mean, look at you, Liv. If that’s still your name? You’re practically a different person. The curls, the trainers, everything. Bloody hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of heels, and I was sleeping with you for six months.”
I pull a cushion from beneath me and fling it at Dan’s head. “Dan—” I cry. Outraged, I start to speak, but James cuts me off.
“Liv, what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be home for another five weeks,” he asks.
My mouth drops open, the words frozen on my lips. A tear spills down my cheek. Another follows, and then the floodgates open and my chest shakes, sobs racking my whole body.
“Oh, Liv,” James cries. Scooping me into his arms, he cradles me in his lap and slowly rocks back and forth as I sob into his chest. Dan leaves, gently kissing my head before slipping out the front door.
“It’s okay, Liv. It’s all going to be fine, I promise.” James’s soothing voice calms me, until my sobs subside and silent tears replace them. “Whatever’s happened, it’s going to be fine.” I shake my head in denial and bury myself against my best friend. Closing my eyes, I eventually fall asleep.
I dream of Echo, only for my heart to break when I wake up alone and remember that the man I love is hours away and not mine anymore. I did this. I broke my own heart. I was unhappy in Archer’s Creek, but I left half my heart with Echo and I feel desolate without him.
He blamed himself for my attack, and I should have tried harder to make him believe that it wasn’t his fault. I love him, and I walked away instead of fighting for us. I still had five weeks with him, and maybe I could have found a way to stay. Instead, I ran, and I’ve got no one to blame for how I feel now but myself.
I spend the next four days on James and Dan’s sofa.
“Enough. Get your stinky bum off my sofa and go have a bloody wash,” James shouts. I pull the duvet over my head and groan at his intrusion. “The pity party’s over, Liv. Time to tell me what the bloody hell happened.” James rips the quilt from me and hauls me over his shoulder before unceremoniously dumping me under the running shower.
The water washes away the grime and tears, until I feel almost human, and walking out of the bathroom, I find James and Dan waiting expectantly for me. Kissing me gently on the forehead, Dan hands me a plate of toast and a hot cup of tea.
They silently watch me, until finally James leans forward with his hands steepled in his lap. “Time to talk, sweetie. What happened out there? Where’s Echo?”
A single tear escapes, but I quickly wipe it away. “Echo and I were just a holiday thing. It’s over.”
“Bullshit,” James exclaims.
My head shoots up, and I throw James a shocked look. “What?”
“I said bullshit. Liv, I’ve known you for years, and I’ve never heard you speak about someone like you did about him. You love him. So stop talking crap and actually tell me what happened,” James snaps.
I pull in a deep breath and start to speak. “After the attack, he started to pull away. I was pretty beat up, so I just thought it was the bruises, you know? But when they started to fade, he just stayed away. He felt like my attack was his fault, that he didn’t protect me. By the time I decided to leave, he was just keeping me there out of a misplaced sense of responsibility.”
A look of sympathy flashes across James face. “Oh Liv, did he tell you to leave?”
“God no,” I blurted. “But I never saw him. He’d have the other biker guys guard me and then come back in the early hours. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t want me to touch him. I just couldn’t do it to either of us anymore.”
James tilts his head to the side quizzically. “Why would you need a guard? I thought Wyatt was dead?”
I nod. “He is, but Mimi, who helped him hurt me, she disappeared.”
“Do you love him Liv?” he asks. Wide-eyed, I stare at James, unable to answer. “It’s not a difficult question Liv. You either love him or you don’t. So do you love him?”
I sit up straight and try to lace my voice with certainty. “It doesn’t matter if I love him or not. He didn’t want me there, so I left.”
Dan’s hand shoots into the air, and he suddenly speaks. “Did he tell you that he didn’t want you there?”
My eyes flit from James to Dan before they drop to my hands and focus on my chipped nail polish. “No. He didn’t have to tell me.”
James hangs his head as Dan speaks. “Oh Liv. What have you done?”
“I did the best thing for both of us,” I say, blinking back tears again.
James stands and walks across to me, kneeling at my feet. “You’re an idiot. Liv, I don’t know Echo, but I can tell you now that he didn’t want you to leave. He feels responsible for Wyatt attacking you and terrified that Mimi is still out there and could hurt you again.” Shaking my head, I try to deny his words, but he interrupts me. “Do you love him Liv?”
“That’s irrelevant,” I say.
Dan laughs softly, his eyes flitting to James for a second before returning to me. “Olivia May Townsend, love is never irrelevant.” Standing, he grabs my phone and hands it to me. “Stop being an idiot Liv and phone your man.”
I turn the phone over in my hands and stare at it. Lifting my head, I face the boys. “What if he hasn’t called?” Two sets of sympathetic eyes look back at me.
James speaks first. “He will have. But if by some very slim chance he hasn’t, then Dan will break out his emergency vodka stash and we’ll get you absolutely plastered.”
A grin twitches at the side of my lips. “God, I missed you guys,” I say.
Dan’s smug face grins back at me. “Yeah, yeah, we missed you too. Now stop stalling and turn your phone on,” he orders playfully.
Pulling in a deep breath, I slide the SIM back into my phone and press the power button. My phone surges to life, and the silence is deafening. He didn’t call. Tears stream down my face, and I turn to James, unable to look at my silent phone any longer.
The first beep makes me jump, then a chorus of beeps burst from my phone as messages and voicemails appear.
James and Dan left an hour ago, and I’m still just looking at my phone, trying to build up the courage to do more. Finally, I urge my fingers to move and click on the texts. Eleven new messages. Eight are from Echo, two from Brandi, and one is from Gus.
I click on the one from Gus and read it quickly.
Gus: Young lady, what have you done? We’re all worried about you so please call.
Shame consumes me, and I drop my phone into my lap. I never really thought about how my leaving would affect the people I left behind. I feel so selfish. I was so consumed with leaving Echo, I never gave my friends a chance to say a proper goodbye.
I miss Archer’s Creek and my life there.
Lifting my phone again, I click onto Brandi’s messages.
Brandi: I love you too. I’m gonna miss you so much. I wish you didn’t have to go ☹.
Tears well in my eyes, and I blink them away to look at her second message.
Brandi: Echo knows. He’s lost it. That man is so in love with you. You need to come home.
Gasping, I cover my mouth with my hand. I’d convinced myself he didn’t care, that I was leaving for him.
Frantically, I open his messages. All eight are from the day I left.
Echo: Livvy, call me.
Echo: Where the fuck are you?
Echo: This isn’t fucking funny. Call me.
Echo: Livvy I’m freaking the fuck out. Call me.
Echo: I’m at the airport. Don’t run.
Echo: I love you. Please don’t leave.
Echo: You’re mine and I’m yours. We’re it sugar. I understand why you think you need to run but your life is here with me. I was an idiot and I’m sorry. I’m coming for you sugar. You’re my forever.