The next day was no better than the one before. Grief stole breaths, hope lingered around the edges, daring to peek its head up now and again, wondering when it would be safe to reappear. Tentative smiles were exchanged, awkward glances traded, shaky touches offered.

I didn’t know whether to give it more time or rip the plaster off. The conversation Taylor and I had to have would be no easier in a few days’ time, or even a week. I wasn’t willing to wait, not willing to spend another day without her. It was time she came home.

I tossed my laptop into the rucksack Lucca had brought from the hotel this morning, then sat on the bottom of the unmade bed. Lunch had been a sedate affair - shallow and meaningless conversation belied the overshadowed atmosphere as we all tucked into the catered food left over from Emille’s wake.

Phil looked marginally better, small smiles cracked here and there, and he appeared to have slept some. Both girls were bleary eyed, the odd sniffle would escape but they were holding themselves together remarkably well.

Fiddling my thumbs, I tried to come up with a way to initiate the inevitable conversation, to come up with the right things to say, to convince her to return. I was at a loss. What was she waiting for? The police had interviewed her, taken her laptop and issued a warrant for Alexa’s arrest. They made it clear to Taylor it was most likely all the official documents were falsified in some way. The DI in charge of the investigation had even gone as far as securing an emergency restraining order in person. Taylor had revealed all of this earlier, when we’d awoken, and I’d tried to start this same conversation. I ended up being irritated she hadn’t called me for the interviews, I would’ve come up, offered support she clearly needed. It was by the by now, what was done was done so I let my anger go and focused on saying the right things to get her to come home.

When Taylor entered the room, she let the door fall shut behind her, the muted click loud in the silent room. Crossing the room, she sat down next to me, putting her hand on my knee and letting her head drop to my shoulder. I tucked my pinkie into hers and held fast, the contact settling down my nerves.

I was all spit, fire and fucking ego for the most part, but it didn’t wash with this woman, I had to check my shit at the door because she sure as hell called me on it. She was the only one I toned it down for, the only one that got all of me. There I was, sitting on a pink flowery bed, about to show her my soft underbelly even Lucca didn’t get to see, and was shitting myself like an insecure teenager waiting on his first date to arrive. My dark vulnerabilities were hidden well but the compulsion to bare all to Taylor was an easy decision.

“You have to come home, baby. I can’t do without you.”

“I don’t know if I can, Ryder.”

“What’s stopping you? The police have done their part, it’s getting settled, they’ll have her in custody soon enough. You’ll see. You know it was all forged.”

“Those pictures weren’t. They hurt, I can’t not see them. I mean...” she laughed, “...I know you’ve never been a saint, I don’t give a shit about that. But to have it thrust in my face and used against me? Seeing you with someone else so intimately, no matter when it was, gutted me. I can’t wipe that from my head.”

If the roles had been reversed and I’d had to see images of Taylor in the sexual positions she’d seen me in? I would’ve went utterly crazy, most likely gone on a rampage. I laid back on the bed, my legs dangling from the end, Taylor following me down. I closed my eyes wishing I didn’t feel so useless, wishing I could take all her hurt away. I couldn’t turn back the clocks, undo what Alexa had done, what I’d done. I didn’t have the answers for her.

I wished I’d never met Alexa Carter. What a fucking cunt.

“I need the story. What happened. I need to understand. I want to believe you when you tell me it will all work out fine, but the truth is - I can’t. My head’s a whirl of messed up emotions and hormones and it’s making me exhausted trying to even think on it.”

The very real thought of Taylor thinking less of me for the way I treated Alexa worried me the most. I’d had every intention of telling her the details, how awful I was to Alexa. How I fucked her when it suited me. The feeble attempt at a relationship had been a joke on my part. I knew she liked me more than I did her, but I continued, not giving a fuck for her feelings. No matter what, my disregard for someone in that way, was shameful.

Alexa was certifiably crazy all right, yet there was a niggle maybe I was getting what I deserved for treating someone the way I had her. I’d questioned myself countless times - had I not made it clear a future was out of the question? Had I led her on unintentionally? She’d always been a bit infatuated, hanging around because she was Stella’s friend. I’d told myself it was harmless fun. My big fucking head told me it was because I fucked her so good she kept coming back for more, nobody would put up with me otherwise. It was all I’d had to offer, a good time between the sheets. I’d wanted nothing more. As far as I was concerned the one woman I’d wanted it all with, had disappeared, everything pointing to her being most likely dead.

Maybe I’d broken Alexa’s heart?

I felt bad for all of about 2 point 5 seconds on that thought. I didn’t give a shit if I had, she was hurting the woman I loved, and any sympathies flew out the window the minute she interfered.

So - I laid there, spilling my guts to Taylor, telling her the sordid details of my twenty-odd year history with Alexa. All the bits I was ashamed of - how I’d shared her at parties and not cared who had sex with her after I did as long as I was first. How I’d been so fed up with her moaning one time, I’d dumped her at the side of a country road with four-inch heels on at two a.m. How I’d stood her up on probably a hundred or more occasions. How I’d ignored what was in front of my face.

And the break up? The final showdown was disgraceful on my part. In a packed-out club with some blonde random on my arm I’d told her to fuck off. That she was a ragey bitch and a lousy lay and to...Just. Fuck. Off.

Not my finest hour, not by any means.

Taylor let me talk and I rambled for almost forty minutes until the sound of my own voice grated on me. I hadn’t missed how tense Taylor got when I mentioned Stella and it caused me concern, wondering if Lucca’s ex-wife had sunk her claws into my girlfriend too. So far, she’d only gone after Laura, didn’t mean she didn’t have us in her sights as well.

“And you gave a statement?” she asked when we’d been quiet for too long.

“A few times. There’s a paper trail, so the DI says, he’s confident he’ll get it wrapped up quickly.” I had trouble believing it, these things dragged on when there was a lot of evidence. I said it anyway, not sure who I was trying to convince.

“And what are you doing about it, Ryder?” Taylor’s voice had become distant, almost accusing. “Where is she?”

“People are looking!” I almost shouted. “My PI is on it; the lawyer is on it, the police too. I’ve got everyone on it that can be. People hide, Taylor. I can’t do anything about that.”

“My dad had said marriage certificates were easy to fake, all I’d needed to do was look it up, or call the registrar. But I didn’t. There was too much stuff there. Why would she do this to me? You wronged her, not me.”

I knew why. I couldn’t tell Taylor that after she disappeared I fell into Alexa and she knew about her, I’d talked about her to anyone that would listen when I was drunk, about the girl who got away. How the love of my life had vanished, how my heart was broken. I’d never uttered her name, but Alexa, or Stella, must have put two and two together when I’d suddenly started ‘dating,’ a thing I didn’t do.

“The woman’s crazy, what can I say?”

Taylor scrambled from the bed, annoyance evident in her movements. “What you can do is fix it, so I never get anything from her again. I can’t cope with it. I need to focus on other things, not your reprehensible past. I should have known better. A man like you...”

She didn’t finish her sentence, didn’t need to. Her words enraged me, and I rose up to the edge of the bed, glaring at her while she stood at my feet.

“A man like me?” I tipped my head to the side and squinted at her in disbelief. “Someone like me? A man who sees nothing past you. A man who is so far down the rabbit hole because of you he can barely see straight half the time. A man like me? Finish your words, Taylor. Dig it fucking deeper, why don’t you?” She stared at me while I blinked at her, stupefied. “I’m trying,” I eventually sighed, grabbing her hips, the need to feel aggrieved at her words slipping away as I pulled her between my legs, my head falling against her stomach. “I swear, I am.”

Fingers scraped through my dishevelled hair as she raked her hands through the longer strands. “I don’t want this hanging over us.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Maybe I’m the wrong person to apologise to?”

She had a perfectly valid point. “I need you to come home, Taylor.”

She grunted, her fingers tightening in my hair. “Home to where? A one bedroomed flat? A flat above a Chinese takeaway?”

Well, I guessed she knew I’d rented somewhere in Brighton, figured Laura would tell her, I wasn’t surprised. “We could buy somewhere. A house, make it a home. For the three of us. It’s all I want, you’re all I want.”

I sounded needy, yet I couldn’t give a fuck. Let her hear my vulnerability, let it sit in front of her to see. She wasn’t the only one with things to lose. I was tired of waiting, too tired, and I was so over her half excuses and bullshit when the answers she’d asked for were there.

A faint sigh escaped her mouth the same time a movement against my head startled me. I jumped away from Taylor when she giggled. “Is that...”

“Yes!”

I laid my palm flat against her stomach and felt the prod again, looking up at Taylor whose head was tipped back, a huge smile on her face. Fuck. She was something else. It had been too long since I’d been in her presence when she looked as stunning as she was right then.

“Not often, but it’s amazing!” She exclaimed.

Small fluttered movements dragged my attention back to her middle and I shuffled farther to the edge of the bed, the side of my head connecting with her belly. “Hey, little guy,” I whispered. “I’m gonna buy you a big ol’ house so you and your mama can come on home. You like that idea, huh?”

Emotion superseded everything else - Alexa, Emille, Taylor - they all slipped to the back of my mind as I marvelled on the gentle kicks. As if in answer. I was awestruck and petrified all at the same time. Tears fell, and I thought there was no shame in a man crying for such reasons.

“Okay, Ryder.” Taylor whispered a kiss across my head. “Okay. We’ll buy a house. Then I’ll come home.”

My heart lifted, and hope soared. I may get my greatest gift after all.