The next day saw the start of a new week for me. I was determined to straighten my spine and get a grip on my life. This wasn’t the time for any more bubbles or numb tunnels. My life was good. I was winning. I was determined.

There was a quiet buzz about being one of the many working ants that strolled through the streets of Leeds city centre on a hazy summer’s morning. Nobody spoke. Few even smiled. But still, there was a sense of comfort about being around so many like-minded people who were all about to suck in a breath and brace themselves for a week filled with computers, co-workers and caffeine.

In a bid to start my week off on the right foot, and after some lazy morning sex with my man, I’d asked Marcus to pick my outfit for the day. He liked me in nice things – the dresses, the heels, and the make-up. It took more effort than I liked on a morning, and meant losing precious sleep in favour of attempting to curl my hair at times, but there was a quiet satisfaction that I got from seeing Marcus’ eyes light up when I’d finished.

It was nice to be adored, and leaving his place had left me feeling happy, relaxed, and almost blissful. Or at least it did, right up until my phone rang.

Shuffling my bag around to my stomach, I dug through it until I found the source of the noise. Sammy’s name flashed in time with my ringtone, and it took me a good few seconds to decide on answering it. I loved my best friend, but first thing in a morning phone calls were never a good sign.

“Hey,” I breathed out as cheerfully as I could before I swung my bag back around and tried to focus on walking and talking at the same time.

“My brother still touching up my best friend?” It was the same way she started most of her calls to me. No one had been happier than Sammy about us getting together, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy making us feel guilty about it.

“Not right at this very minute, no, but he had a good feel earlier this morning.” I grinned.

“Gross.”

“Then quit mentioning it.”

“I’m waiting for the day when one of you sees sense and realises that you two being together only means I’m going to be in your lives even more than before.”

“And I’d hate that because…?”

“I knew you loved me.”

“I really, really do. Except on mornings when I’m just about to head into work. You have about three minutes before I push through the doors of doom, Sammy, so spit it out.”

“Spit what out?”

“The thing you’ve phoned me for.”

“I just called…” She paused. “To say…”

“You love me?”

We both laughed at the same time, and I was grateful for the fact that it sounded like nothing serious was wrong with her.

“I gotta go,” I told her as a few people brushed past me in a rush. While I’d become a little more skilled at wearing heels over the years, I still had my newborn deer moments.

“Call me after work, okay?” she said in a rush.

“Why?”

“Just do as you’re told, Nat. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Should I be worried?”

“No,” she said quietly. She may as well have screamed a yes in my ear. “Have a good day, gorgeous girl.”

“I will…” I lied equally as softly, but I knew that if I didn’t ask her what was wrong, I’d just spend the whole day worrying about it. “You’re not going to tell me what this thing is that you need to speak to me about before you go?”

“I don’t want to ruin your day.”

I slowed my walk until I’d unconsciously come to a complete stop with my phone pressed firmly against my ear. Glancing around, unsure why I suddenly felt so on edge, I worried my lip between my teeth before leaning closer into the mouthpiece. “Is this about Alex?”

“You know?”

“Know what?”

“That he’s back.”

Sucking in a breath, I nodded even though I knew she couldn’t see me. I guess it was to confirm with myself that I knew, more than to confirm it with her. No matter how much I was pretending, I knew. It felt like he was everywhere all of a sudden.

“I know,” I told her.

“And how do you feel?”

“Like I need to go to work.”

“Natalie…”

“Sammy.” I turned on my heels and began to make tracks again, shaking my head all the while as I tried to figure out a way to explain to her how I felt. It was impossible. “I’m fine. I promise. I’m with your brother now. I’m in love. I’m happy.”

She didn’t respond right away, and I could imagine the look she was wearing as she worried her hand across her forehead and worked out how to stay on the right side of the line without crossing it. She’d never been good at that.

“I love you, Nat.”

“I love you, too.”

“Phone me later.”

After a few promises to touch base, I finally made it to the front of The Oakmere Centre. My plan to start the week without any trace of the man from my past had already been unsuccessful, and as I stared up at the four-storey building and tried to focus on one particular emotion, instead of all the conflicting ones, I wondered what the hell the next few days had in store for me.

Did I want to see him?

Could I find a place to hide?

Would there ever be a day when the very mention of his name didn’t make me shake?

Did I want to see him?

Did I want to see him?

No, I thought. So, I dusted down my blue dress, pushed back my hair from my face and began to make my way inside.

Inner strength is something that we can only find if we dig deep enough, and I was searching every inch of the floor for it while wearing a smile to hide any uncertainty from the rest of the world.

I thought I’d almost found it, too. I thought I’d managed to convince even myself that I was in control. I should have known better. I should have known that the faint, familiar smell of his aftershave when I walked through the doors wasn’t just a figment of my imagination. I should have known that when the walls feel like they’re caving in, it’s probably because they are.

I should have known I was never in charge of my destiny at all.

Because when I finally looked up to greet Barbara with a smile, my view was eclipsed completely with something much sharper – something more powerful that had the ridiculous ability to make me stumble, pushing my steps back a few paces until my spine came slamming against the glass panels of the door.

There, standing in front of me with the bright lights shining behind him, making him look like he was that damned glowing angel all over again, was Alex.

My Alex.

He was there with his hands in his pockets and a knowing smile on his face.

He was there and only one thing, besides how beautiful he looked, was obvious…

He was there to see me.

“Natalie.”

I'd been right to assume the years would favour him. The experience and knowledge that had always been there sat well on his skin. At just twenty-two years of age, Alex had that sophisticated look about him – the one that let everyone who ever saw him know that he held a million and one life secrets behind that smirk of his.

It hurt to breathe. Everything I'd tried to suppress for so long rose to the surface within seconds, desperate to bathe in the clean, truth-filled air, after years of life in denial.

The biggest part of me wanted to turn and run away. I knew it was what would be best for me. When the past comes knocking, you don't answer the door. At least that's what I’d read somewhere on the Internet.

“Alex,” I said, tasting his name on my tongue.

He rocked on the heels of his feet, his movement so small that he probably hadn't even realised he was doing it, but I saw. I saw everything from the bottom of his dark blue jeans, up to the colour of his tight, black collared t-shirt. I saw the new muscles, the new strength, the new determination.

“Hi.” He smiled lazily.

I glanced behind him to find Barbara, but she wasn't anywhere to be seen. I needed her now more than ever, but her chair sat empty and her computer screen was black, devoid of life.

Clearing my throat proved tricky due to the painful lump that had lodged itself there, but I moved despite my obvious awkwardness, pushing myself off the glass as I began to walk on shaky legs. I couldn't look at him. Not then. I wasn't that strong. My eyes found the floor quickly, and for some reason, my hand flew into my bag in search of my keys.

Keys.

I didn't even need my keys.

My fingers did, though. They needed something to pour their nervous energy out on, something to twist and squeeze and torture, something to make me appear too busy to talk to him.

“Hi,” I replied flatly, moving closer to him.

Walking and talking at the same time proved too much of a multitasking situation for me. My feet were all lefts and my hands may as well have been greased with butter. I eventually found the keys I didn't really need, and when I pulled them out of my bag, they flew straight out of my fingers, through the air before doing a well-performed belly flop to land right in front of Alex's feet.

Of course they did.

I stumbled for a moment, deliberating whether to retrieve them or leave them until my stubborn side won out and I moved towards the very man I wanted to run from. Turning my knees to the side, I crouched down in front of him and reached out.

Unfortunately for me, Alex bent at the same time, and all the gods played in his favour as his fingertips reached the keys before I did.

Then we both froze, our sudden close proximity feeling like someone had thrown a plastic bag over my head and was squeezing it tight.

“Let me get them for you,” he offered in that low, smooth voice of his.

There wasn't anywhere I was willing to look but down.

“Thank you,” I croaked, “but I got this.”

“I'm not sure you do.”

“Move your hand. Please.”

To my surprise, he did as I asked, but not the way I wanted him to, instead picking up the bunch of keys and gripping them tightly in the palm of his hand, hiding them away from me even more.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, forcing myself to look up at him no matter how hard I found it to see his face.

“I'm helping.” He turned his hand over and slowly began to peel his fingers back to offer me what was already mine. “Or, at least, I thought I was.”

Alex's eyes searched mine intently. Like he owned me.

Like I was his.

There was so much I could have said to him. All the snarky comments were rolling around in my mouth, just not quite ready to play their hand yet.

I had to move.

Delicately reaching forward, I pinched the keys between my finger and thumb before slowly pulling them away, careful not to make any skin-on-skin contact with him. The last thing I needed was his touch.

His smirk only grew as our eyes stayed trained on each other's, and for one fleeting second, the old feelings returned. They wrapped themselves around my heart, making me think he was still my safety net, fooling me into believing we'd never walked away from each other.

Until the memories of him and Bronwyn slapped me up the side of the head and forced me to blink out of my trance.

Fucking move, Natalie.

I rose quickly, desperate to get away. Without even thinking about how it looked, I shoved the keys back into my bag, dusted down my dress and brushed past him as though he wasn't even there.

Oh, how I wished he wasn't there.

None of it felt real. After living life for so long without him, to be so close seemed like it was just an old daydream. All those times I had cried in bed after the night I walked away from him, all those times I had begged my heart to fall in line with my head and let him go... all the while secretly hoping he'd find a way to make things right between us.

And there he was.

In front of me again.

Smiling that smile.

Flashing those eyes.

Dragging me back to weakness all over again.

I couldn't let it happen.

The amount of swallowing I was doing was becoming a damn nervous tick as I walked behind the reception desk, dropped my bag to the floor and slipped into my chair. There was a chant playing over in my mind: Breathe, breathe, breathe. He's just a man. He's just a boy. He's nothing to you now.

Yet those butterflies laughed at my naivety as they roared and soared and crashed into one another. My heartbeat rolled its eyes and revved its engine, setting a sadistic pace that was only designed to remind me I was never in control.

That didn't stop me from trying to grab the steering wheel, though.

I slapped on a face of indifference as I pushed my hair out of my eyes and reached over to turn my computer on. Alex's feet trod slowly against the marble floor as he came closer, showing off their confidence with the rhythm of their cocky stride. His presence was still as powerful now as it had always been back then, maybe even more so.

I pretended not to notice him as he rested his forearms on the raised counter in front of me. I pretended not to smell that aftershave of his as it drifted under my nostrils like it had missed me as much as I had missed it and him.

“Are you going to speak to me?”

“I'm busy,” I replied abruptly.

“Too busy for an old friend?”

“Busy is busy.”

“It's good to see you, Nat.”

I picked up some files to fiddle with, files that meant nothing at all to me right there and then. I couldn't have told you what colour they were. I couldn't even have told you what country I was in. “Is it?”

“Yes. You look well.”

“Thanks.” My eyes darted around the desk as I tried to find something heavy to throw at him. A stapler. A hardback book. A brick! Something that would cause him pain like the poison he was pouring on me was causing me to hurt already.

“You look... really well, actually.”

“That's because I'm happy.” I smiled flatly as I began to flicker through the names on the manila folders in my hands.

“I see that.”

“Are you here to see Dr. Cleveland again?” I asked, desperately trying to divert the topic of conversation away from me, only I dropped the ball in my haste.

“Again?”

Shit.

I froze, the files still in my hands as I peeked up at him slowly. I wished I hadn't. The satisfaction and amusement on his face made my insides burn. I told myself it was anger.

Both versions of me knew it wasn't.

“You always were full of surprises.” He grinned.

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Yet you knew I was here last week?”

“No,” I lied.

Alex raised a brow as he leaned closer and waited for me to tell the truth. He'd be waiting a long damn time. I couldn't admit to him that he'd plagued most of my thoughts since that day last week. I couldn't even admit that to myself.

“You been checking up on me, Natalie Vincent?”

“And why would I want to do that?” I sighed softly, hoping he knew my question was rhetorical.

“You don't really want me to answer that, do you?”

“No. I want you to let me do my job.”

“Please, don't let me stop you.”

“Are you here to see Dr. Cleveland?” I repeated as I struggled to hold on to my composure.

“No. Would you prefer if that was who I had come here for?”

“For?” It was my turn to raise my brows that time. “For implies that you've come here to collect something – to pick it up and take it away with you. Seeing as how we don't offer a click and collect service on our website...” I paused, tilting my head to one side.

“You know what I meant. Although...” His voice drifted off and I watched as those eyes of his fell to my mouth. “Maybe it's a service you should start offering. I'd happily be your first customer.”

I couldn't breathe.

“We’re all out of stock.”

“Good God, I’ve missed you,” he admitted through a half-hearted laugh.

Hearing him react that way had my stomach curling in on itself as my mind pointed a warning finger at me and told me not to slip back into our old ways so easily.

“You should go,” I whispered, my voice laced with obvious pain all at once as my mask began to slip. “You should go, Alex. Now.”

“Go where?” His focus shifted back to my eyes, and his breathy whisper washed over me like it was a potion made to cast a spell.

“Anywhere. Anywhere away from me.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I'm just a receptionist. A receptionist who is trying to do her job and is of no use to anyone while I'm sat here talking to you. You can take a seat over there and I'll phone through to Dr. Clev–”

Alex's hands slid over the surface that separated us, and his small laugh cut through the air as he pushed himself back up to a full stand.

“I'm not here to see anyone but you. But you already know that, don't you?”

“Me?”

“You.”

“And what made you think I would want to see you?”

“I lived in hope.”

“It sounds like a nice place.”

“Natalie.”

“Please don't,” I warned him.

“Can't we talk? Like old friends do. I once knew you well.”

“Things change. People change,” I hit back, trying to hide the growl in my voice. I had no idea who I was more annoyed at, but I had a feeling, deep, deep down, that the majority of my anger was borne from my frustrations at not being able to handle seeing him as well as I wanted to.

“Some things never change,” he whispered.

“How did you even know where I worked?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.

He rolled his eyes, keeping that smile on his face as he shook his head and bit back more laughter. “You've really no clue, have you? Even after all that happened, all I said.”

“Just answer the question.”

“I've always known where you've been.” He pushed his hands back into his pockets, letting all the tension fall from his body as he relaxed his shoulders. “I knew you were here last week, too. Somewhere.”

“How?” I shook my head in confusion.

“I still speak to Paul. Suzie tells him things. I ask the right stuff and he tells me everything I need to know,” he said softly.

“Why would you do that, Alex? Why do you even give a shit?”

“I'll always give a shit. Even when I'm lying in my grave.”

The surge of irrational anger was like a volcano that rumbled at my toes and erupted from my mouth.

“You had no right to check up on me,” I snapped back. “You have no right to be here.”

“I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I just hoped we could–”

“You're wasting your time. Believe me, we cannot be friends. Not now. Not ever.”

His face fell and our silence made the air thick as we stared at one another.

“So it's true then?” he eventually whispered. “You do hate me.”

I opened my mouth to say 'hell yes I do,' but not even all my years of pretence would allow me to tell that particular lie.

“I'm indifferent to you.” My voice broke. It was so small, and I had no idea how much of my response he'd actually heard.

“Indifferent?”

“I did what I had to do to survive.”

“You turned me into the bad guy.”

“No. I turned you into a guy who didn’t exist.”

“Ouch.”

“It's for the best.”

“Is it?”

“It’s what you always wanted.”

“I wish you could read me the way I’ve always been able to read you,” he whispered.

I sighed that time, feeling exhausted before the day had even really begun. The files fell against my desk with a thud, and I looked down at the grains in the wood for some kind of escape.

There were so many questions burning me from inside out – so many conflicting emotions. All the things I wanted to say didn't matter and all the things that did matter, I didn't dare speak. He had a hook in my mouth and I was struggling to break free.

I must have looked as lost as I felt, because before I could say anything in response, he'd pulled something out of his back pocket and was currently sliding it on the counter towards me with two fingers. I stared up at the small white slip of paper with complete emptiness.

“This is my number. I don't expect you to keep it, so don't feel bad about burning it after I've gone.” His voice had dropped all its humour, and that tone he was using was one of my all-time favourites. It was the one that seemed calm on the surface, but if you listened, really listened, you could hear the dusting of uncertainty that coated it. It made him seem vulnerable, and I'd never loved Alex more than when he was being real.

“What are you doing back here, Alex?” I asked, slowly lifting my eyes to meet his.

“I'm coming home,” he said calmly. He rubbed his lips together before he sucked in a breath and began to turn away, but not before he glanced back over his shoulder one last time and looked me in the eye. “I meant what I said, too. You look well... And I'm really glad you're happy now, Natalie. Believe it or not, that's all I've ever wanted.”

Then, just as quickly as he'd slammed back into my life, he spun around and waltzed right back out again.

And that time hurt almost as much as the first.

Barbara arrived at work sometime later, only to find me behind the reception area, gasping for air. I wasted no time in telling her everything that had happened and she became my shoulder to cry on once more.

It took me three hours after that to find the courage to throw the slip of paper with his number on it in the bin.

It took Barbara three hours more to admit to me that she'd taken it right back out again and was keeping it locked up in her drawer.

Apparently it wasn't a good idea to make decisions when you were angry or upset.

I didn't have the energy to tell her it was my anger that I was relying on to get me through this. I needed it.

Otherwise, Alex was going to kill me.