Chapter Eight
Hannah
I look around my office. I feel like I’m suffocating. It’s like I’m losing her all over again, and the worst part is that I know I have to work with him because of Anna. There has to be a way out of this. I could reassign her to someone else. That’s what Max would tell me to do. No. I know this case better than anyone, and I refuse to let her suffer because of Declan.
How am I going to handle being around him? God, to think I thought he was attractive. I thought my biggest problem was that he is a priest. I lower my head to my desk, resting my forehead against the back of my hands. I still can’t believe it.
“Well, you look like shit,” Max says, wandering into my office. He flashes his trademark grin as he leans over my desk, like only Max can. I give him a deathly stare.
“Thanks,” I grumble, my voice muffled through my hands. “What are you even doing here?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay, and clearly, you’re not.” He sighs and shakes his head. “I think it’s obvious there’s only one thing to do right now. Grab your jacket, and let’s go,” he orders, clapping his hands and motioning for me to hurry up.
“Where?” I ask, laughing. Sighing, he grabs my arm. He yanks me out of my chair and out of my office. “Where are you taking me?” I persist, bewildered. “I don’t have time for this, Max. I need to—”
“Eat. That’s all you need to do right now. Eat. I bet you haven’t done that all day. Am I right?” He nods when I don’t answer. “I thought so. Now, just shut the hell up and follow me. You’ll find out in a minute.” We walk outside and he flags down a cab, ushering me inside. He gives the driver an address I don’t recognise and then turns his attention back to me. “So, what’s got your panties in a twist? It’s either a guy or this case. My money is on a guy.”
“Maybe for you it’s always a guy, but some of us have bigger problems.” I frown. I’m not in the mood for his shit. Almost instantly, his demeanour changes. It’s like he realizes that it’s serious.
“You know I’m always here if you want to talk, right? All jokes aside, you can talk to me about anything.”
Tully and I have never been close, which is strange considering how close we are in age. Cecily was so much older than us. We moved around so much that Tully and I relied on each other for friendship. She was my little sister, and I would have done anything to protect her, but when Cecily died, and then Dad . . . Tully changed. We all changed, but something in her shifted. She became withdrawn and angry toward everyone, including me. I tried to be understanding, but I was barely coping myself. I was ten and trying to keep Mum from falling apart.
These days, she’s better, but there’s always that unspoken awkwardness between us. I’ve never really gotten over the fact that I seem to be the one that does everything while she got freedom, and she’s never gotten over whatever her problem with me is. I used to wonder if she resented me, but maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe I resented her.
“I’m going to need more than a few drinks to tell you that story,” I mumble.
“What makes you think I’m taking you to get drunk?” he says, rolling his eyes. “It’s a bit early for that, isn’t it?” I laugh because it’s a Thursday night, and he’s Max. Nothing is out of the question when it comes to Max.
“Fine, so where we going?” I ask again. This time I don’t let up. I tug on his arm like a frustrated toddler wanting to know if we are there yet. “Tell me, Max! Where we going? Where? Where?”
“Jesus, Hannah. I can see why you’re single,” he mutters. I give him a playful shove and link my arm in his. “Okay, if you shut up, I’ll tell you where we are going.” I raise my eyebrows, keeping my promise to shut up, but still pushing for answers with non-verbal cues. He rolls his eyes again. “I don’t have to tell you because we’re here,” he says sighing dramatically. I look up and smile. We are standing outside of our favourite little Chinese restaurant. And I know exactly why we are here. Thank God for all day Yum Cha.
“Is there no better way to feel good than to eat your feelings?” Max asks with a grin.
“I feel guilty that I’m not at work,” I reply with a sheepish grin.
“Jesus Hannah, who is still at work at this time on a Thursday? Consider this a working dinner if it helps,” he says dismissively. “Because if you don’t eat, you can’t help people.
We walk into the dodgy looking Chinese restaurant that has become our go to place, and wait to be seated. There is not much of a crowd, because we’ve missed the dinner rush, and it’s too early for the drunk party goers. I’ve always thought that now was the perfect time for Yum Cha.
We sit down at our table, and even though we are the only people in the restaurant, the little Chinese lady insists on wheeling around her creaky cart. I tell her we can save her the hassle and just order off the menu, but she insists it’s all about the experience. I chuckle, appreciating her dedication.
Max reaches across the table and takes my hand.
“So, are we going to talk, or are we pretending we’re here for the atmosphere?” I open my mouth ready to fire back a witty comeback, but he cuts me off. “And don’t spin me some bullshit story about this case being a hard one.”
“It is hard,” I mumble.
“Fine, but so were the four hundred identical cases before it.” Except with those cases I felt like I did my best to help. And they didn’t have Declan. “Hannah Banana, you never do this. Don’t get me wrong, you’re the most dedicated person I know, but this case has just got you so worked up, and I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine, okay? Just leave it, Max.” Tears build up and threaten to spill. I shake my head. God, I haven’t cried this much in my whole life. Max eyes me, overwhelmed probably because in two years, he’s never seen the floodgates open like this.
“Okay, now I’m really worried. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry, Hannah.” He reaches for my hand again, looking at me in such a way that I feel awful for keeping things from him.
“It’s just … everything,” I mumble, my voice cracking. “I just feel so damn responsible for that little girl losing her mother. I know it’s not my fault, but I’ve been so overworked, and I couldn’t get away from that shelter fast enough, Max. What if—”
“I told you before you can’t do this to yourself,” he cuts in. “You’re losing the plot, Han. You need a few days off so you can think straight. Don’t come in tomorrow and use the weekend for what it is for once. Go home and sleep. Please?”
I shake my head. “I can’t afford to do that.” I let out a sigh. I feel like I’m trying to do everything and it’s just piling up. I’m not sure how much more I can take.
“That’s it,” he says. “Go home. Sleep. Promise me that you will look after yourself.” His dark eyes study mine. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Hannah. You know this is exactly why the turnover rate is so high at work.”
I know he’s right, but I also know going home isn’t going to do a damn thing. I’m still going to be thinking about this case, only it’s going to be worse because I won’t be doing anything about it.
“I’ll go back to the office, sort a couple more things out, and then I’ll go home and sleep. I promise,” I say earnestly. I mean it, even if I’m doubtful it will eventuate.
He looks at me for a long time, and then sighs. “It really doesn’t matter if I agree or not, does it?”
I smile at him. “You know me so well.”
We stumble out of the restaurant and walk through the park, hand in hand. I rest my head on his shoulder as we walk, smiling.
“Feel better now?” Max asks.
“Totally. Thanks for making me come,” I say, taking his hand.
“Max always knows what you need, honey,” he says. I shove him, and he laughs. He knows I hate it when he refers to himself in third person. That’s why he does it so damn often.
I head back to the empty office while Max goes home to Marcus. I have to admit, I do feel much better with a full stomach, but the problem is, now all I feel like doing is going home and snoozing on the couch. I pull out my phone realizing I haven’t checked it since we left work. I have a message from Mum, Tully, and Declan. I rub my forehead and swallow a sigh. Is it out of the question to change my phone number? I can’t deal with any of them right now. I turn my phone off and shove it back in my pocket.
After putting in another hour at work, I arrive home exhausted and throw my bag on the counter. I dig out my phone and stare at it. I don’t want to call him back, but I know I have to get it over and done with. I spent the whole evening trying to come up with another solution that wouldn’t upset Anna, and I couldn’t think of anything. I even spoke to Sally for her advice. I told her the whole story, and her response was ‘If she only trusts him, then you might just need to find a way to make that work.’
I know she’s right. This thing with Declan needs to come second to Anna. I punch in his number, my heart pounding as I wait. Eventually, he answers.
“You called me back,” he says. He sounds surprised, and after the way I left, I don’t blame him.
“Yeah, well, it’s kind of my job,” I say, my voice short. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Not at all,” he murmurs. “And thanks for calling me back, anyway. So, I have an idea. What about if she stays with my sister? She’s got a boy Anna’s age. I can stay there too, but Lily will be the one looking after her on paper.”
“When?” I ask. “How soon can you get her there?”
“Tomorrow.”
“And tonight?” I press. “She is still with you and the other priest?”
He falls silent. “No,” he mumbles. “He had an emergency. I had to bring her back to my place.”
“You can’t be alone with her, Declan. We’ve been through this,” I sigh, angry at him. Can I really put Anna in that situation when I don’t trust him myself?
But then I think to myself that maybe he has changed. He’s a priest. If that doesn’t show me how far he is willing to go to change, then I don’t know what does. Because priests never hurt anyone, right? I rub my tired eyes. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her. I can’t risk it.
“I need to set some ground rules,” I begin. “I can arrange for your sister to have custody of Anna until I find something more permanent, but you need to promise me that you will follow some rules.”
“Sure, whatever you need.”
“You can’t be alone with Anna,” I say. “At all. Ever. Until I’m okay with it.”
“Are you serious?” he asks, letting out a laugh. “I’m the only one she’ll talk to. I’m supposed to ignore the—”
“I’m not saying you can’t see her,” I retort. “Live there, whatever, but your sister needs to be there when you’re there.”
He sighs, defeated. “If that’s what it takes for you to trust me, then fine. But what am I supposed to do when Lily is at work? You’re offering to be there every day to supervise?”
“Yes,” I say.
I regret the word as soon as it tumbles out of my mouth. What am I doing? I don’t have the authority or the resources to agree to this. And more than that, do I really want to commit to spending every day with him? Yes. You do want to. You’re excited by it. No. I refuse to believe that I’m excited about seeing him. I hate him as much as I did ten years ago. I hate him more now, for coming back into my life.
“Text me your sister’s address,” I snap. “I’ll meet you there tomorrow, eight a.m. sharp.”
“Fine, but if you’re so concerned about her safety with me, you’d better spend the night here, don’t you think?” I ignore the edge to his voice and grit my teeth.
“Fine,” I growl. “See you in ten minutes, then.”