March moves into April, then slowly into May—every day seeming to get that little bit longer. I had been heartbroken when I left Easton, so I threw all my energy into my work. I could easily have given in, but what would that have looked like after my big song and dance about Easton and I not contacting each other? I did it solely so I could put one hundred percent into my studies, and although I fucking cursed myself for ever making Easton promise me no contact, it worked. I felt ready. Finally, I felt ready. I won’t deny that there weren’t a few hitches along the way like the pupils in school becoming so distracted with me that they had no other alternative but to escort me to my classes. I was always the last one in and the last to leave because otherwise I would have been hounded. Questions. There are constant questions about whether or not I am still seeing Mr Lockhart, and there are even questions about whether or not I am pregnant with his twin babies! Despite my stomach being flat and remaining that way, they still ask.

The press has died down, but unbeknownst to me and Easton, someone was spying on us that day when we said goodbye—or in Easton’s case, au revoir. They took a picture of our most precious last moments together—a picture which breaks my heart all over again every time I look at it. Easton is sitting on his bike, and his hand is holding mine as I shed painful tears. The caption reads, “Could this be the last farewell between student and teacher?”

They hadn’t been wrong, but I was livid when I saw that Easton and I couldn’t even privately share our last few moments together. I had been hounded relentlessly after that. The press had gotten wind that Easton had moved back to Scotland, and I obviously haven’t followed. They want to get all the juicy details, but I ignore every single one of them. It isn’t anybody’s business but ours. Eventually, after a couple of weeks they stopped hounding me, but it didn’t take away from the fact that the media involvement severely upset my school. I think they regretted their decision to let me stay in the end. I was becoming a huge burden, and I hated it. Thankfully, things have died down substantially, and now I’ve officially finished school. Currently, I am waiting to take my first exam tomorrow morning. The subject is English Language.

A trial date for Liam has been set. Of course he did plead not guilty, so the judge decided that as the case was such a serious one, he would move it to the Old Bailey. Liam’s being charged for Kidnapping of a minor and False Imprisonment, a term which could give him up to twenty years, if found guilty. I have been told by the prosecuting lawyer that the date of the first hearing is on the twenty-fourth of June—the day before I’m due to meet Easton. The timing’s not perfect, but at least it’s not actually on the day. The whole trial should last no longer than three weeks, and despite my having to give my testimony I have been told I can do it via video link so that I don’t have to come face to face with Liam—a fact brought up when my panic attacks started again. I should have given evidence in court, but the judge took pity on me.

I haven’t told anyone this, but apart from working my butt off for my exams, I’m not coping mentally. Because of this I’ve had to start my sessions up again with Dr Richards—something I thought I would never have to do. She’s also been summoned to court to give evidence, and despite not having to be there when she does, I want to.

“How are you feeling today?”

I’m in Dr Richards’ office today as it’s one of the last chances I will get to see her before my exams kick in.

“I’m still having nightmares, and yesterday when I saw a man staring at me I rushed home and had a panic attack.”

She uncrosses and crosses her legs again, clicking her pen as she does. She likes to do that a lot. I often wondered if she had a form of OCD, because her desk is always impeccable, but what gives it away is all her files, pens, and notebooks—even her phone—have to be in a perfect line with one another. I had often laughed at the irony of a psychiatric doctor having OCD.

“I know we have been down this avenue before, but how about medication?”

I shake my head. “The last time I was on them I was like a zombie. I can’t be like that—especially now my exams are starting.”

“When do your exams start?”

“First one is tomorrow, and the last one is on the twenty-third of June.” That’s in thirty days time. I seriously can’t wait for it to end.

“Bad timing, what with the trial starting.”

“I know, but I’m determined not to have anything distract me now. I feel I’m owed this after all the pain and hurdles I’ve had to overcome just to have the right to sit my exams—a right that should have been given to me two years ago.”

“You still feel resentful?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

She chuckles slightly. “I guess. Anyone would. How you cope with that fact is how you move forward from this.”

“I’ll move forward once Liam’s properly behind bars.”

“Do you feel safer now that he’s detained? I know you always had safety issues when he was out there wandering freely. How about now?”

I think on that for a moment. “I guess I do feel safer knowing he’s in prison, but I haven’t stopped looking over my shoulder.”

“Why is that?” she asks, a deep frown on her face.

“I guess it’s all I’ve ever known.”

She sighs. “One day you will get to that moment when you’re not constantly living in fear.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Yes, until the day he’s released from prison and starts to look for me again—and he will. I know he will.”

“Won’t the police help in that respect?”

I nod. “Yes. I’ve no doubt I’ll get placed into witness protection and given another new identity. I don’t know when that will happen, but they did it once, and he still found me.”

“How do you think he found you?”

I had often thought of that myself and could only put it down to one solution. “He knew how important my exams were to me. I think he guessed that I would either be in college, or in school somewhere, so did his level best to find out.”

“That’s a lot of trouble to go to.”

That makes me laugh. “You don’t know Liam as well as I do. When he gets something stuck in his head, he doesn’t let go—no matter how long it takes him.”

She sucks in a breath at the mention of his name. “These nightmares,” she begins. I know where this is heading. “Are they all the same?” I nod my head. “Are they all of Liam?”

“He has me trapped down a dark tunnel and the walls are caving in on me. I scream and he just laughs. They’re always the same, but sometimes they are different.”

She frowns, cocking her head to the side. “In what way?”

“Some of them have Easton in them. Liam kills him and throws his dead body in the tunnel with me.”

She winces at that, but quickly recovers. “Are you still not in contact with Easton?” I shake my head and avert my eyes away. “Why is that?”

I bite my lip to stop the tears from falling. “I don’t want to talk about Easton.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s too painful.”

“Remember what I’ve said before.”

“Yes, I know. Sometimes confronting the pain is how we learn to move on, but when it comes to Easton, I’m not moving on. We’ll see each other again. I just need to hold on until that day comes.”

“Do you think you’re ready for a relationship right now?”

I shake my head. “Maybe not. I don’t know. I know my head’s not the best it can be at the moment, and I also know that I only want Easton to see the best of me. It’s only what he deserves.”

“Don’t you think that if he loved you enough he would take you on in the bad times too?”

I smile at that. “I know he will.”

“I know you have dependency issues brought on by your time with Liam, but not all men are like Liam. If Easton is as good as you say he is he will offer you himself to lean on, but at the same time giving you the space you need. Liam was one extreme man out of hundreds of thousands. You’re only feeling that fierce independence because of all the times you had all of your decisions stripped from you.”

I sigh, momentarily leaning my head back. “I know. I’m not perfect, but I’ll get there.”

Dr Richards chuckles. “Nobody is ever perfect. If they were people like me wouldn’t have a job.”

I laugh at Dr Richards’ joke before checking my watch. “We’ve gone over my hour.”

I look up to find her shrugging. “I know, but you were opening up to me and I didn’t want to lose that.”

“I need to get going anyway. I’ve got a lot of studying to do.”

She smiles. “I’m happy this is coming to you, Sasha. You deserve it.”

“Thanks.”

“How is the studying coming along?” she asks, as I’m picking up my handbag ready to leave.

“It’s going as well as can be expected.” I think on that a little further. “Put it this way, I think I will be shocked that I don’t at least get a B in all my subjects—well, apart from Physics, because I seriously suck at that.”

She starts laughing, then says, “I know you have to travel up from where you are to see me, and I know it takes a lot of your time to do so. I will be close to your area next week. Do you want me to come and visit you in your home? We can do a session there, if it would be easier?”

I stand and nod. “Yes, that would be great. Thanks.”

She gets up too and wanders over to her desk. She bends forward, checking her diary, then looks up. “How about next Tuesday morning?”

I bite my lip trying to remember my exam schedule. Then I realise I have Math that morning. “Can’t. I have an exam that morning. I do have a free day on Wednesday.”

She checks her diary again and smiles. “I will be travelling back that day, so the morning at around nine would be good.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”