Days pass and I’m happy. For the first time I’m happy and it’s nothing like I ever expected, nothing I ever believed in. A dream. A hope. A wish a broken girl whispered overlooking the sea when her heart was so black she never thought she’d feel again.

I study; look after Tabitha, enjoying having a baby sister, giving myself the family I’ve always craved; and Brighton feels far away.

In the mornings, Eli leaves for work to save the world, and I create and learn, giving myself to the dream that this is something. That my art will mean something—just like Al always said.

Every day that passes my grief lessens, eases, and I see loss for what it is, another stage we live through.

I can’t ring Dan and it hurts. I sleep with it on my mind, my arms wrapped around Eli. Dan and I are lost to one another now.

I’m stuffing the machine with a dark wash. Sally, who I’ve discovered is the cleaner, has been in and done her miraculous sweep through making the mews smell delicious, but I’ve requested some jobs fall to me. Eli may have a charmed life with cleaners and staff, but I’ve always washed my own underwear and that isn’t going to end now. My phone rings which is a good thing because it’s stuffed in the back pocket of a pair of jeans in the machine—bloody hell, maybe I should let Sally do everything.

“Yo, Tabs.”

“Faith? Are you free?”

“I’m extraordinarily busy doing housework.”

There’s a pause. “No, seriously, are you free?” Her voice is tight.

“Sure, what’s up? Is Lewis okay?”

I don’t know whether Lewis and Tabs are on or off. It’s a teenage thing I don’t understand. But then I don’t understand anything about relationships. Eli is my first boyfriend and I’ve moved in with him. I think that speaks for itself.

“Yeah, he’s fine, working I think. Sienna came and got him.”

“Hm.”

“Are you still sulking about Sienna?”

“I wouldn’t say sulking exactly. I could have done without her turning up for a Friday night dinner.”

“They are just friends, Faith. That’s all they have been for a long time.”

I sigh and scrub a hand down my face. “Yeah, I know.” This relationship thing is hard.

“Anyway. Can you come here?”

“I was going to go work in the studio.” I sigh. “Okay, I’ll be there soon.”

I hang up and go to the ensuite, switching on the shower. No day is ever as I plan and this is largely why planning sucks.

I ring the doorbell at my own apartment and Tabitha answers with a grin. “You can use your key.”

“I could.” I walk in and drop my bag in the small hallway space, peeling off my leather jacket. Tabitha is pink, her body rigid. “What’s wrong? You sounded funny on the phone and now you look like you’ve run over someone’s cat.”

“Hello, Faith.”

I freeze as Jennifer Fairclough steps out into the hallway. It was cramped before, now it’s suffocatingly small. What the hell is she doing here? I glare at Tabitha, the bloody traitor.

“Listen.” I hold my hand out. “I honestly don’t have anything to talk about with you.” I’m just going to get it out there. I won’t forgive her for what she made Elijah do at the ball.

“Faith, please can we just have a moment, for the sake of my son? This doesn’t need to be awkward.”

I snort. “Not awkward? You’ve made it perfectly clear I’m not good enough for your son.”

“And I know I was wrong. I can admit that. Can you admit the same?”

I shake my head. “No, because you haven’t shown me anything to the contrary.”

She hesitates, her face dropping. “Being a Fairclough is very complicated, I’m sure you can appreciate that.”

Good God, is she actually going to talk now she’s away from the icy stare of the wicked witch Connie?

“I know you sacrificed everything for the name, and I know Eli won’t do the same, so I don’t think we have any common ground to talk about. Your actions hurt your son.”

Her shoulders slump. “I know.” She meets my gaze. “That’s why I want to mend bridges. I want my daughter back, and my son.” She forces down a lungful of air. “And I want to welcome you, too.”

Tabitha pales. “Mum, I’m happy here at the moment.”

Jennifer casts her cool gaze across her daughter’s face. “Sweetie, I know you’ve had issues with that boy.”

Tabs’ mouth drops open a little bit. “His name is Lewis, Mum, and he’s lovely, kind and caring.”

“And in trouble with the police.”

“Once.” I’m quite proud of Tabitha standing her ground.

Jennifer freezes, her smile losing sincerity. “Once.” She shakes out her honey blonde hair. “How about us girls go and get a coffee together?”

Tabitha shakes her head. “Mum, I’m going to work.”

“Work, darling? Don’t be silly.”

Tabitha shakes her head, firm and hard. “Mother, you have no idea what I’ve been through the last few weeks, how terrible everything’s been.”

Jennifer reaches for her but Tabs steps back. “You can talk to me. I can help.” Her face is frozen, but beneath the mask there’s a glimmer of real fear and... is that pain?

Tabitha gives her a searching look. “No, I can’t. Not like this, not after what we’ve become.”

With that she flounces into the lounge, grabs her bag and coat and walks past us to the front door, not even looking again at Jennifer.

When the door shuts, we stand in heavy silence until her eyes land on my face, searching and reading. “Everything has changed since you came along.”

I won’t let her put this on me. This isn’t me. “Jennifer, if you are losing your control, it’s because you’ve pushed it too far.”

Her eyes lock with mine. “Control, Faith. I’ve never had any of that.”

“Then you should have fought for it the way your own children are.”

She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and for a moment she looks like a concerned mother, the kind I’ve never known. “It’s too late for that I fear.”

I shake my head and find myself stepping closer. “It’s never too late to change.”

With a wan smile she meets my eyes. “I don’t suppose you fancy that coffee, do you?”

Ah crap. “Sure.”

Her face beams. Now there is the Jennifer Fairclough I love to hate. “You can tell me all about the Tate Modern.”

I groan. There is literally nothing that this woman doesn’t know.

I’m hiding the jars of pasta sauce in the recycling bin when the door clicks open. My eyes automatically land on the large, chrome kitchen clock. It’s only six thirty; this is unheard of.

Then I hear voices and know Eli isn’t alone. Crap. I might not have made the pasta sauce from scratch, but I have still splattered it down my pale cotton shirt. Oh, and I’m not wearing any trousers, just my ink.

“Hi.” I run my hand through my hair, my fingers tangling with sand and chemicals. His eyes fall on me and his lips curve at the edges.

“Hi.” The blues dance and he walks closer and gathers me into his arms. “You smell delicious. Part, Faith, part Dolmio.”

I flush widely, my gaze centred on his face, falling into his beauty. “Why are you home so early?”

His breath flutters against my ear. “I wanted to see you.”

“With an audience?”

His lips skim my mouth, his tongue sliding along my bottom lip. “I couldn’t give a fuck about the audience.”

A warm fire kindles along my insides. “I’ve cooked dinner.”

His smile presses against my mouth. “I can smell.” With a gentle peck on my lips he releases me. “Enough for a crowd, I hope. We are researching. I thought you might be able to help.”

“I know nothing about researching.”

“Don’t worry, Faith.” My stomach drops at the voice behind, it’s all cut glass and oozing sexiness. “It’s as boring as hell, but not hard.”

I give Sienna a tight smile and Elijah’s eyes soften. He pulls me in, hugging me tight into his body and kissing the top of my head. Roger and Jess, his associates, watch us, their eyes wide as he displays his softer side.

“I’ve made pasta, help yourselves. I’m going to go and shower.”

I know there is nothing going on with Sienna and Elijah. I know she’s his friend and will help him when needed. Hence pretending to be his fiancé and breaking my heart or seeking out hidden facts he can use on his cases. It doesn’t mean I want to spend my evenings with her.

Once he had her, and that’s too much for me.

I give them a small wave and Sienna gives me a sad smile as I pass her by. In the bedroom I shut the door, my feet sinking into the carpet as I step across to the bed. Before I’ve reached it, the door is open and Elijah is pulling me back, gathering me into his arms, reeling me in until I’m pressed against his hard body. His hands are in my hair, his thumbs along my jaw and my heart catches, skipping a beat. He buries his face in my hair, his hands dropping and sliding around my waist until they anchor on my hips. “I’ve been waiting to do that all day.”

I can’t speak. Can’t meet his eyes and I hate myself for being so pathetic. If this is what love does to you, then I don’t know if it agrees with me. Where’s my fight, my spark, my edge? It’s softened and blurred by his touch and kiss.

“Don’t be angry she’s here, Faith.” The blues level on my face. “The case needs her, not me.”

I push away but get exactly nowhere as his fingers stay on my hips, firmly gripping the angled bones. “I know, it’s fine. It’s all fine. I’m just tired.”

He watches me, his gaze searching out my truths even though my mouth won’t tell him.

“Shower?” A grin lights his face.

“No. I’m having a shower. You go and work, then I’ll come and serve up some dinner and wine.”

“Wine? Are we turning this into an evening now?” God, that smile, those lips. They trail along my skin, scorching a path of irresistible desire. “I think that makes us a steady couple if we serve up dinner and wine together.”

“And salad.”

“Salad. Oh, Faith, this is too much, too serious.” The ring I made him with my soul glints on his finger and he erases every glimmer of frustration I have.

“Go. I’ll be out in a minute.” I tease my way out of his arms, dodging his fingers.

“I need to freshen up, it’s been a long day.” He chases me into the shower and I squeal loudly, oblivious to what his team think out in the kitchen.

“Elijah Fairclough.” I’m breathless as he scoops me up and steps us into the shower.

He switches on the water and it cascades over us. He’s fully clothed and his mouth is on mine, sliding against my lips, his tongue hot and demanding. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

I burn with his words and his eyes flash as he yanks at my drenched shirt, tearing it, the buttons pinging against the tiles. I gasp loudly as he lifts my yoga bra over my head and dips his head to catch one of my nipples in his mouth, biting gently and then swiping with his tongue. Hot stabs of desire shoot between my legs and I moan, sliding my back against the tiles of the shower. Straightening, his eyes burn on my face he steps out of his wet clothes. He has missed me.

I wriggle out of my knickers and then slide my hands into his wet hair. Has anything looked more beautiful than him? I love seeing his hands move, my ring flashing on their surface.

“Turn around.” His voice is low and firm and I don’t even hesitate. I rotate on shaky legs, his hands shift my hair over my shoulder exposing my neck which he kisses and nibbles until I don’t think I can hold my own weight and he presses his erection where my buttocks meet at the apex of my thighs, pulling my hips backwards towards him. I’m hot, ready, desperate for him to fill me up. His hand slides down my spine as he edges deep within me and I rock back onto his hardness. Fuck.

Warm water runs between us and he fills me, claiming me and taking me for his own, groaning my name as he thrusts over and over again and I’m spreading my hands against the tiles to balance, shivering and moaning, riding the crest that wants to pitch me over the edge.

“Scream my name.”

I shake my head. I won’t scream, there are people in the next room.

His hand pushes on my back, bending me down, his thumb trailing the cleft of my arse. My orgasm teeters higher, dizzyingly high. My legs shake, my breath hitching with every thrust.

“Scream my name.” It’s a demand I can’t refuse as his thumb slides into dark places and I come apart under his touch.

He follows me, filling himself into my soul. Then he straightens me up, grinning and pecking kisses all over my face. “There is no one else I’ve ever had that with.” The blues are intense.

I nod.

Lesson taught.

“I know.”

He grabs the shower gel and squeezes it into his hand, lathering it over us both and I stand there as his gentle touch does crazy things to my heart and mind.

“That’s better.” He breezes into the kitchen like everyone doesn’t know what we’ve just been doing. Roger, who looks like the only sex he experiences is from behind a screen and involves some lube and a sock, doesn’t know where to put his eyes.

Jess sniggers with Sienna, and I breathe, trying to make myself relax. She’s not a threat to me. I know that. He loves me, he shows me every night.

“No one’s driving, are they?” I turn to meet their eyes. “I’ll open some wine.”

“Here, I’ll help.” Sienna steps forward and goes straight for the glasses cupboard and I try my hardest not to let it get under my skin.

“Sienna, why don’t you ask Patrick over?” Eli calls. He’s opening one of the boxes that has been stacked against the wall of the lounge for the last few days after they were delivered by a runner—in a giant fuck off white van.

“Mm.” She grimaces, and he frowns.

“You can’t have broken up already? Seriously?”

“What can I say, I’m not a long-term commitment kind of girl.” She slides the glasses over to me and I pour the newly opened wine into them.

“I think two dates doesn’t constitute commitment.” Eli rolls his eyes.

“I miss those days.” I stare in horror around me. What the fuck did I just say? “Uh. No.” My brain. There is nothing. Just nothing there.

Eli’s gaze is hard as it settles on my burning face.

“I mean.” I gesture wildly at Sienna. Come on, help a girl out. She steps up.

“You mean, how much consideration goes into a real relationship. Like having to explain where you are. Then there’s the awkward bit where one of you wants something but the other doesn’t. Two dates is easier, by far.” She laughs and drinks. I have no idea if she’s helping. All I can feel is Eli’s gaze on me. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, if they are good in bed, I’ll keep them around for a bit longer.”

I shrug. “I wouldn’t know about that.”

I stare at Eli. He knows this. He’s the one I broke all my rules for. Every single damn one of them.

“Shall we serve dinner and then we can get on?” His tone is cool, and his eyes slip right past me.

“Sure.”

Jess clears her throat. “So Faith, how was your day? Eli’s told us what’s happening with the Tate. It’s amazing.”

He’s been talking about me? My chest tightens. I don’t think I’ve ever expected anyone to talk about me before. And definitely not in a good way. I’m totally used to being the subject of gossip.

My throat tightens. He’s been talking about me at work... to his colleagues... like he’s proud of me. Believes in me...

Clearing my throat, I try to engage my brain. “My day was interesting. I had coffee with a baroness.”

This gets his attention, and he watches me carefully.

“Looks like we are going to dinner at Bowsley next Saturday.” I shrug.

The file he’s holding slaps onto the table loud and clear. “Well, that’s just fucking great.” He explodes which really wasn’t the response I was expecting at all.

I stare at the others in shock. “Yeah, I don’t really want to go, either.” Like that ain’t bloody obvious. There are martian’s living in outer space who know I don’t want to go to Bowsley for dinner, next Saturday or ever.

Sienna clears her throat. “It’s Eli’s birthday next Saturday.”

Shit.

“Well, shit.”

How the hell am I supposed to know that?