"Are you seriously going to wear that tonight, Maisy?" my mother screeches at me, looking at me in shock. I look down at my jean and white top then back up at her. I’ve gone past not caring what her problem is. It’s not like I want to leave the house tonight in the first place. I spent the morning throwing up over the smell of a salmon sandwich my dad ate, and my caring attitude went down the loo.

"So? Why not? I think I look fine," I mutter, not knowing why I’m bothering to argue with her. My mother scowls at me in distaste as she wipes her hands down her pristine, white dress over her stick-thin body.

"Maisy, you have a date with Kyle Winchester, and you know this must go well. You cannot expect to live in sin in this house." She glances at my large stomach before looking away, like she can’t even acknowledge the fact that I’m pregnant.

The thing is, I don't care; not about anything other than my unborn child. I'm six months pregnant with a beautiful, baby boy, and that's the only good thing in my life anymore. I’ve accepted it, but it doesn’t make my heart stop hurting, or my family’s rejection of my child, sting any less.

"I know, Mother," I whisper, hoping she will just leave it. I am really not that lucky tonight.

"You clearly don't. You need to get married, and Kyle Winchester has loved you since you were a young, spoiled brat. The good man has even said he will accept that baby." She huffs at me. I hold back a snort of laughter as she mumbles on about how great Kyle is. The only thing she missed is that he is a stuck-up asshole.

"I know, Mother," I repeat.

“You can’t stay with us if this doesn’t go well, and then what will you do?” She doesn’t give me a chance to reply before continuing. “You will just be another single mum with no qualifications and no money. The boy who did that to you won’t care, as I’m sure you’re just another notch on his bedpost by now," she says harshly, and I flinch at my future, or more at my baby’s.

I breathe in deeply, as I know her words are right. Considering I left school too early to complete my A levels, I don’t have a chance of getting into university on my grades alone. I won’t even think about him yet, the man (a title he doesn’t deserve) who left me in this state alone and broke my heart all in one go. 

I can’t even think about the baby’s father now without a hell of a lot of tears. I won’t give her the satisfaction of seeing them.

My mind floats to my grandmother and the huge trust fund she left me. I miss her so much, as she was all the family I had who actually cared about me. I’m lucky my mother doesn't know about my trust fund, but I can't touch it without her help, and I won't tell her about it.

"I will change," I say begrudgingly. I know she won't give up and will keep throwing insults until I do.

"Brilliant. I left a blue, maternity dress on your bed," she says, but she leaves out that I must wear it.

I leave our massive, white kitchen and walk down the corridor to my room. The walls of the house I live in are all white or grey, and my room is the same. There isn’t a single family picture in the house because my mother doesn’t like them. Instead, there are weird pieces of artwork, which I’m sure are worth a fortune but, to me, look like shit. I open the door to my room and rest my head against it as I look around.

There is a single bed in the corner–as my parents don't think I need a bigger one–white wardrobe, and a white chest of drawers. I haven't bought any baby stuff yet. I know that’s bad, but I'm saving all the money I can by working at the local supermarket. I work on the tills even if it kills my back; I need the money. I intend to work until the last minute of this pregnancy, before I can even think about leaving. I may play along with my parents’ insane idea that I should marry Kyle, but I'm trying to get out of town. It sometimes seems hopeless, and I feel like giving in, but one movement from my baby reminds me I can’t give up. The money I’ve saved will pay for the baby’s things but not rent, and then what do I do when he arrives? I can't work, and the maternity pay isn't enough to live on. 

I look at the dark-blue, very tight dress on the bed and look up at the ceiling, praying for help to even get into it. I slip on a pair of silver pumps, not caring that they don’t match and grab my leather jacket.

After I change, the doorbell goes, and I walk as slowly as possible down to the entrance hall. 

Kyle is standing there, looking stupidly rich and wearing an expensive suit, which does nothing to hide his unfit body underneath it. He is standing with my mother and father. They are all laughing, and my mother gives him a peck on the cheek before she notices me. Sometimes, I wonder if she is the one who wants to sleep with him because I really, really don’t.

"Maisy, darling, come here," she says in a fake, loving voice, which I’m used to hearing around guests.

I walk over as I say, "Hello, Kyle.” I try to smile, but I don't think it works.

He glances at me with a slight leer and then looks at my bump with a scowl, but he quickly hides it.

"You look sexy tonight, Maisy," he says, admiring my breasts, which makes me want to punch him. Kyle is just as tall as me, which means he is short, really. I'm barely five-foot-seven, and he has brown hair that's cut very short, but I think it’s due to his receding hairline. He is a little overweight and always wears silly suits that show off that stomach of his.

Unfortunately for me, he is my mother’s best friend’s son, and at twenty-eight, he is still single. As far as I know, he hasn’t had a long-term girlfriend. I can see why because he doesn't have the looks. Even worse, is the fact that he is a complete asshole, which will show the minute we leave my parents’ sight. I don’t know why he bothers to be nice, I don’t think they would care.

"Thank you," I bite out.

"Let's go. I hope to see you soon, Louise, Donald." He nods slightly at them and grabs my hand to pull me with him. I cough a little at the overwhelming amount of cologne he must have on, which I smell as I walk out next to him. It’s not even a nice-smelling one at that.

The worst part is that his hand is sweaty and feels terrible, but I know I can't just rip my hand off him in front of them. 

Kyle unlocks his brand new Mercedes and lets himself in. It’s not that I expected him to open my door, but I struggle to get in being huge in the stomach area and the car being low.

Yep, being pregnant sucks, but I have no one to blame but me.

Kyle doesn't say anything to me on the way to the restaurant. It's a posh, Mexican restaurant in town, and I hate going into town at the moment, he knows that.

Well, the thing is, the dad of the baby lives around here and knows I’m pregnant with his child, but he made it clear he didn’t want to know. I’ll never forget the text that made it bluntly clear. I also don't want to run into any of his family or my old friends from school. There would be too many questions that I don’t want to answer.

I hate coming back, in case I see Seb, as I'm scared how I will react. My emotions go from wanting to punch his perfect face, to begging him to talk to me. That man was everything to me until one night when he ruined us, and then when I thought it couldn't get worse, I got a text from him saying I'm on my own with the baby. 

So yeah, being in town is officially a bad idea.

Kyle gets out of the car, and so do I. I follow him into the restaurant, and he speaks to the waiter before we are shown to our table. The place is packed, but it's not surprising considering it's a nice restaurant. 

I take my seat and order water from the waiter as Kyle orders a beer.

We don’t say anything to each other as we order our food, but then he says, “You’re looking big; how long until this thing is born?"

I hold my fork so tight I'm scared I'm going to break it, or worse, stab him with it. I let go of the fork to push my long, black hair over my shoulder. I repeat to myself again and again that I only have to pretend for a little while, until I can sort myself out. The ‘Fucking Jackass’ is my new, mental nickname for Kyle Winchester.

"My son will be here in around three months," I answer.

"Well, how long until you can have sex with me? I want to be married fairly soon after it is born," he says, and I try not to vomit. There is no way in hell I'm sleeping with this jackass, let alone marrying him.

I feel a man standing next to me, and I look up into the brightest-green eyes, which have haunted most of my dreams. My heart drops as I stare at Sebastian King, and I feel like I can't breathe as my hands start to shake.

“Is it mine?” he asks, and I look up at him in shock. Seb knows I'm pregnant, so why would he ask such a stupid question?

Damn, it hurts to see him. His dark-brown hair is styled to the side and slightly shorter than when I last saw it. Seb is still as tall and muscular as he always was, with a clean-shaven, strong jaw line. I take my time to see that he is dressed in dark-blue jeans and a button-up, black-and-white shirt. It’s slightly unbuttoned, with the tattoo on his chest peeking through.

I loved this man so much before he broke me, and I breathe in his woodsy smell before answering.

“Yes, Seb, the baby is yours,” I say slowly, as I’m not sure what else to say and wondering what game he is playing. 

"Why didn't you fucking tell me, Maisy? Weren’t you ever going to?" Seb shouts at me, and he looks so mad that I almost believe he didn't know. I remember his message to me and straighten my shoulders before replying.

"I did tell you, Sebastian. Don't play your bullshit games with me." I glare at him as I speak, pushing myself to my feet and picking my handbag up off the table.

I waver a little when he looks confused and shakes his head at me before moving to step forward.

A short, very beautiful girl with long, wavy, almost white-blond hair comes over and places a hand on his shoulder.

My heart tightens as I realise he has moved on from the loving look he gives her. It’s strange because from what I’ve heard, he has become the village bike and everyone gets a ride. I won’t ever admit it, but it still hurts to see anyone touch him.

"Calm down, Seb," she says gently but smiles at me.

Seb’s twin, Elliot, moves to the other side of him and says, "Izzy is right, you need to calm the fuck down." Elliot doesn’t move to stop him, but it’s clear he would if he had to.

"You want me to calm down, seriously? She is pregnant with my child, and, apparently, I knew," he says to the girl who is called Izzy. It’s strange as she looks familiar. I look at her face, but I can't say why. 

"We are leaving, Maisy," Kyle shouts at me, and I flinch, which Seb notices.

Seb briefly looks at him before saying to me, "Who the fuck is this?" He gestures to Kyle with his hand.

Before I can answer, Kyle stupidly says, "I'm the smart one she will be marrying soon. We are leaving."

Kyle grabs my arm roughly and pulls me over to him, making me stumble a little. I suddenly see that Sebastian's eldest brother, Harley, is here, and he grabs my other arm gently to hold me up. I smile thankfully at him before he lets go. I always felt safe around Harley, he was like the older brother I never had.

"Kyle, it’s nice to meet you, but if that was so, why is there no engagement ring on her hand?” Harley asks with a slightly distasteful look at Kyle as he speaks. He turns, looking down at my face for answers, but I look away. Kyle pulls on my arm more.

Harley glares at him as he speaks, “You shouldn't pull a lady like that."

I turn to leave because this couldn’t get any worse when I hear Seb. "Wait, can I have your number? I didn't know about the baby, and I want to be there for you both," Seb says, almost desperately from behind me, and I turn to look at him. He looks like a mixture of emotions, much like how I feel.

“The hell you didn’t.” I narrow my eyes at him as I speak, crossing my arms. I’m surprised to see the shock on his handsome face, and it makes me question things enough to maybe give him a chance.

“Please, I swear I didn’t,” he pleads while staring at me with those deep-green eyes, which I always loved the most about him.

"Sure," I say against my better judgement and go to get my phone out of my bag. Kyle rudely pulls my arm until I'm looking at him.

"No," he states, like I’m meant to do as I’m told. I try to pull away, but his grip is too tight, and he is going to leave bruises. 

Seb steps in and pushes Kyle off of me roughly, causing him to fall to the floor. 

"Don't touch her again," he says in a dark voice, which should scare me like any sane person, but it doesn’t, it just makes me desire him more.

I can't still like him, right? I think as I watch him move slightly in front of me like my personal, hot bodyguard or something. As I look at his back and the impressive muscles straining against his tight shirt, all I can think about is the terrible urge to take off his clothes to see if the body I remember is underneath. I sigh internally, reminding myself that he broke me. I can't forget that. 

"Why? She is just some stupid, pregnant whore," Kyle shouts, drawing my gaze to him around Seb’s back, his face is bright-red and he looks furious.

I flinch when those words cause Seb to lose it and he jumps on Kyle. I stare as Seb starts punching the shit out of him, and people start moving away from us. Oh God, this has gone so wrong.

I feel a hand move me out the way, and I look up to see Blake Frost rushing over. The six-foot, blond giant, who always reminded me of a Viking, is Seb’s best friend, and I’m surprised I didn’t notice him here. It takes both Elliot and Blake a few attempts to pull Seb off of a passed-out Kyle while Harley stays close to me. Seb's knuckles are bleeding . . . or its Kyle’s blood, who knows? But, it’s not nice to see.

"She is not a whore and never will be,” Seb spits the words out at Kyle, who is unconscious on the floor. I hear the staff calling ambulances and the police in the background, as the room has gone very quiet. I look around to see it’s empty, other than the staff, as everyone must have left.

As I gaze around, my eyes lock onto Luke, the youngest of the brothers, holding the girl, Izzy. She looks scared, but worried, as she watches us all, and she has a bandage on her arm. I just now notice that she has a bandage on her arm. My heart flutters as I think maybe I was wrong, maybe she is Luke's girlfriend. Well, I guess I'm hoping more than anything else.

"You okay?" Harley asks gently and places a hand on my shoulder. 

"Yes, but I think you guys need to get out of here. I’ll call myself a cab,” I say and get my phone out of my bag, but it's soon taken from me by an angry Seb.

"No, I’ll take you home." He types into my phone, and I hear a ringing from his phone in his pocket. So I'm guessing he has my number. My heart flutters a little when I realise he must have remembered my password, it’s my birthday.

"It's fine, really," I say, hoping he will just leave it. Going home is going to be bad enough, but if I turn up with Seb, I don’t want to know how crazy my parents will go.

“I'll stay and deal with the police,” Harley says to Seb, who nods.

"We need to talk, so I'm driving," he says to me, avoiding eye contact and walking to the door of the restaurant, expecting me to follow. I look at the still passed-out Kyle on the floor and the brothers before sighing.

"Well, it was nice to see you guys again, and I’m sorry about ruining your birthday, Elliot," I say as I could never forget it’s his and Seb's birthday, even if I wanted to. I was there for every one of them since we met.

Elliot grunts as a response, and I wave as I walk out of the restaurant. Seb is standing next to his car, holding the door open for me. I forget how much I used to love the little things he did for me.

"Thanks," I mutter as I hop into his car and am surrounded by his scent. He smells like sandalwood, and, God, I missed his smell as much as I missed him. I have to remind myself that I hate him right now, but I so wish I didn't and could erase the images of that night from my head. I still don’t believe the crap he came out with about not knowing, the only reason I’m in his stupidly comfy car is the pale look of shock on his face.

Sebastian gets in, then starts driving, and soon it becomes clear we are heading to our lake, not my house. I say nothing–I know we need to talk–but I turn my phone off as I don't need my parents acting crazy and calling to interrupt this long conversation.

The only thought I have is that I'm guessing he is going to tell me he hasn't changed his mind since I told him. Seb was always protective of his family, so I think it must be about me staying away from them. Seb glances at me as he drives, and every time my heart flutters before I remind myself that he is a dickhead and is likely to say something hurtful to me very soon.

He stops the car by the lake and gets out as fast as possible. I go to do the same, and he again opens the car door for me before shutting it behind me and waving a hand for me to walk on. I walk ahead to the fishing pier and sit, hanging my legs over the edge. A dog walker waves at us as he walks past, and Seb sits next to me when I’m distracted. He is close, but not close enough to touch. Which I'm thankful for, because I can't trust my body around him now.

"I don't know where to start, May," he says sadly as he gazes over the lake, the water is still in the dim light as the sun sets.

My heart stops at his use of his nickname for me. I haven't heard him use it in so long it hurts to hear, and I turn away from him to look at some ducks swimming in the lake in the distance.

"What do you want me to do? I didn't get rid of the baby like you asked. I just couldn't, Sebastian.” I don’t look at him as I speak, getting angrier as I talk more. “I’ll stay out of your way and your family’s if that's what you’re worried about.” I look up at his angry eyes as he takes a deep breath, as if he is controlling himself.

"What the fuck are you talking about, May? I haven't heard from you since that day.” He lifts a hand to my face, carefully turning my face so he has my eye contact. “I would never ask you to get rid of my child," he says, willing me to believe him with his strong gaze.

I pull away with an angry frown. “I sent you a text after trying to call you, about a month after I left town, and you messaged me back,” I say carefully, I raise an eyebrow as he looks at me with confusion.

“When I realised I was pregnant, the first thing I did was message you after you didn’t answer my call, and you messaged back telling me to get rid of the baby. You also said to stay away from you, as I didn't mean anything to you anymore," I say, I have to swallow the large lump in my throat as I look away. It’s too much to look at him. I pray for the tears to hold back from my eyes, as I can’t be weak around anyone, especially not Sebastian King.

"I never got any message. You have to trust me, May," he promises, taking my hand, but I pull it away.

"Stop calling me that! How could I ever trust you?" I shout at him before standing up and pacing.

"You didn’t let me explain that night," he says so softly, I’m not sure if he even meant to say it.

His eyes are locked onto mine as I turn to face him. The passion and love in his eyes are too much for me to even look at him, what he is doing to me is tearing apart my resolve. I’m meant to hate the man, loathe him, and not want him to touch me.

"I don't want to talk about it." I lower my eyes to the old, wooden planks of the fishing deck.

"May, if you just let me tell you–" he says gently.

I cut him off by walking the few steps so that I’m standing in front of him.

"No. We don't talk about that night. I don't know if I can trust you about the text, but I will admit you looked shocked.” I stop talking and take a breath before saying the next words, which I may regret. “So if you want to be involved with the baby, you can." 

Seb’s whole face lights up with a smile at my words, and I feel my lips pull up into a small smile, too, at the sight of his handsome dimples.

"Yes, I want to be there for you and the baby. I never stopped loving you, May." He looks into my eyes as he says that, and I have to look away over the lake because letting him be involved with his baby is one thing, but our ended relationship is another.

"Don’t say that,” I whisper, and his face falls in defeat as I keep talking. “Look, you can be around for the baby, but as for you and me, I can't hear you say stuff like that. You've hurt me enough, don't you think?"

I look over at him, and I'm shocked to see tears in his eyes as he speaks. "Yes, and that was the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life. I want to be a dad, and I’ll do anything," he says.

I shake my head and go to sit down on the end of the decking again, and he joins me after I wave a hand. I open my purse and pull out my twenty-week scan photo, and then hand it to him.

Seb’s hands shake as he takes the picture and stares at our baby for a long time as I watch a lot of different emotions flutter across his face.

"When I find out who texted you, they are going to pay for making me miss these months," he says darkly. "Do you know the sex?" He changes the subject quickly and looks at me for an answer.

I clear my throat, feeling a bit emotional at the thought of our baby. I may not have admitted it to myself, but I want this baby to have his dad in his life so much. Every child should get to know their father, even if they are the worst person in the world.

"Yes, it's a boy," I say, smiling at him as he grins back at me.

"Wow, a boy. I’ve always wanted a boy when I thought about our future, they are much easier to handle than a girl." He chuckles, and I choose to ignore his reference to our past.

"I'm six months, and the baby is due at the end of November," I say, so he knows.

"That’s close to Izzy’s birthday," he notes. I don’t comment as I know that’s the blonde who was there tonight. I’m guessing he knows her well if he knows her birthday. God, what if he is serious about this girl, and I have to put up with a step-mum added to this mess? I shake my head of my feelings, and I remember this is about my baby and not me.

"I have a sizing scan next week. If you want, you could come and see him," I offer.

"I would love that, are you both doing okay?" he asks, looking at my bump now with a mixture of love and awe.

"Yes, we are good. It’s just that the baby is looking a little big, so I'm having more scans to keep an eye on him." I chuckle, rubbing my tummy when I feel him kick my bladder. I’m lucky I didn’t drink much at the restaurant.

"Good. So, are you still living with your parents? I can't imagine they took this well." He frowns at me.

"No, they didn't. They have some rules I have to follow. But I work, and I'm saving up to move. I need to buy a lot of stuff, I guess I won't be moving soon," I mutter the end more to myself as I look over the lake. The sun is nearly set now and the air is getting a little cold.

"I'm going to help. What are the rules?" he asks, pulling my attention back to him.

"Well, you know the guy I was with, Kyle? I have to date him and marry him when the baby is born, or they will kick me out,” I say as tears fall from my eyes, and I don't stop speaking.

"Everything is so fucked up. I get millions when I turn twenty-one, but I can't touch it yet. My parents don't give a crap about me, but I have to think of the baby and go on those stupid dates with that moron." Seb runs a soothing hand down my back, but I pull away again as I can’t have him comforting me.

"You’re not alone anymore, May. I will sort this mess out and help you, I promise you."  He pulls my chin gently to face him and scans my face for something.

"I don't need your charity, Sebastian. Kyle may be a moron, but he is reliable. I guess he might make me happy one day. I can't be irresponsible anymore." I flinch a little as Seb moves closer to me, close enough that I can feel his body heat, and it makes me shiver.

"You are fucking kidding me, right? He is a douchebag, May. I know you hate me right now–and I don't blame you–but I'm that baby's dad, and I won't have you living with him." His words are strong and meant to make anyone listen.

"You don't have any say in what I do, Sebastian. Don't you think you have broken me enough?" I shout at him before standing up to calm down. "Take me home," I say, walking away from him.

"No, I'm sorry. I just can't stand the idea, and you don't want him. Not really. Let me help you," he says, following me.

"No, it's bad enough I have to be around you for a long, damn time because I'm carrying your child, but I won't owe you anything. I can't. So take me home, please?" I say over my shoulder.

Seb looks like he wants to say something, but he just moves to follow me as I walk to his car. He unlocks it and helps me in. When he shuts my door, he grabs his hair with both hands and shouts to the empty parking lot before getting into the car.

Around twenty, silent, minutes later, he pulls up my stupid, long drive that's all grey stones and fake brush. Seb is used to it, but we always used to joke around about the lack of colour in the house being reflective of my mother’s lack of personality.

"Thanks for the lift. I’ll message you about next week," I say and go to open the door, but Sebastian grabs my hand. 

"I will never be able to tell you how sorry I am, but please, one day, let me explain. I’ve been a mess since you left," he says honestly. I want to feel sorry for him, but I can’t no matter how much I want to deny everything.

"Really, Seb? From what I’ve heard, you have slept with nearly the whole town. Did you fuck that girl after I left, too, now that I was out of your way?" I shout the last part and pull my hand away.

"I'm sorry,” is all he says, and I don't look at him. We don’t talk anymore, the tension is thick in the car.

"Yes, me too, because I trusted you and look where it got me." I open the door and slam it before walking into my house. I hear his car engine as he pulls away, and my anger transforms into worry as I see my mother pacing the entrance hall with a tumbler empty of whatever she was drinking.

"Where have you been? Is that Sebastian's car, you stupid girl?” she whines as I shut the door behind me with a bang. “Kyle called and said you left without him, but he didn't say anything else! Lucky for you, we have made plans for you to go out next Saturday together." I can’t believe what she is saying as she mutters on, still extremely loud and annoying.

"Yes, we ran into him at the restaurant, and he wants to be involved with my baby," I tell her, hoping she will look relieved; if anything, she looks madder.

"That can't happen. You won't see that boy again!" she shouts at me. My mother moves closer and grabs my chin roughly in her hand to make me look at her. Her fake nails are digging into my skin, making me wince as I try to move away.

"You will stay away from that boy. He is no good, and Kyle will make you happy. If you see him again, I will chuck you out of this house and disown you for good," she shouts into my face, the disgusting smell of smoke and vodka overwhelming me.

"He is the father, I can't."

She slaps me hard across the face, and I stumble back a little. I can't believe my mother just did that, she hasn't hit me since she found out I was pregnant. Tears form in my eyes, but I hold them back.

"I won't see him again, I'm sorry," I say, shaking a little. It’s not that I’m afraid of her, but I can’t help my body’s reaction to being hurt.

"You’d best not," she says curtly and walks away.

Shaking off the terrible evening, I head to the kitchen, grab a Pot Noodle out of the cupboard, and pop it into the microwave while I make myself a glass of orange juice. I've been crazy about Pot Noodles for months, and iced tea, too. I’ve come to the conclusion that pregnancy cravings are weird, mainly when I crave those things at the same time.

I eat in the kitchen quietly before cleaning up and going to my room. I don’t see my parents, but that’s not unusual. They both have separate bedrooms on different sides of the house, and my father hasn’t looked at me since I told them I was pregnant.

I look at myself in the mirror and see the massive, red mark on my face. Damn, that's going to bruise, and I have no money for makeup. I just have to leave it and leave my long, black hair down to cover it. I brush my hair, looking at my bright, brown eyes and sigh at the fact they remind me of my mother. Everything else about me looks like my father, the thick, pitch-black hair and round face. I even have his slightly small nose, which most people say is cute, but I say it’s not.

I grab my PJ’s and have a shower before dressing in them, I feel a little better now, but the stress of the night is quickly catching up to me.

I hop into bed knowing it’s only nine at night, but I'm exhausted. I check my phone to set my alarm and see a message.

Unknown: I'm sorry again, but to answer your question in the car. No, I never did anything more than what you saw. X

Me: No more talking about that. My appointment is Tuesday at two P.M. Can I pick you up?

‘Baby Daddy’ is what I decide to name Seb in my phone. A reminder to me about why I’m near him again, and he isn’t going to be anything else to me. I can’t risk it even I wanted to, it wouldn’t be fair for my child to have him witness such a bad relationship between his parents.

Baby Daddy: fine, but we will talk soon. That's great and I could pick you up instead? X

Me: I'm working till 1.30. You could pick me up from work then if you want, as it’s only twenty minutes away and I could use the rest after a long shift.

Him: yes I can do that, send me the name and if possible the address. I'm glad I saw you today. X

Me: Sure. I will and I guess I am too in some ways.

Him: I miss you May x

Me: please don't say that.

He doesn't reply, not that I expect him to, and I drift off into a restless sleep filled with thoughts of Sebastian King.