You’re not my goddamn type. Never were, never will be.

Tally squeezed her eyes closed as the memory of Cash’s hurtful words came tumbling into her mind. A deepening ache grew in her chest. She slowly breathed in through her nose and blew out a shuddering breath. A few weeks earlier, she wouldn’t have imagined he could be so cruel, but ever since a car had mown him down and left him with a severe brain injury, he hadn’t been the same person. God, she loved him—desperately—but he’d made it all too clear he no longer felt the same way.

Before the accident, they’d been planning on getting married. Now all she had left to remind her they’d ever been engaged was a slight indentation on her ring finger where, for a few short weeks, her engagement ring had nestled.

Winter had arrived early in Northern Ireland, even though it was only mid-October. The wind howled, and rain streamed horizontally across the windows as she sat on the runway, waiting for the plane to depart. For the moment, she’d stopped crying, and her insides felt numb, hollow, empty.

The captain finally announced they’d been cleared for take-off. As the plane accelerated down the runway, Tally ached for the familiarity of Cash sitting beside her, clinging to the seat and muttering curses under his breath. He hated flying. It didn’t frighten her in the least. A much scarier prospect was the reason for this trip. Rather than being snuggled up in bed next to Cash, she was heading back to London, where she’d have to relive the last few hideous hours as Pete and Em grilled her until she spilled every single detail.

Little more than an hour later, the plane landed at London City Airport. Tally wrenched her bag from under the seat in front and queued with her fellow passengers to disembark. Her luggage was almost last off the carousel, and when she turned around to leave, the arrivals hall was virtually empty.

She joined an enormous line for taxis but had little choice. The DLR would be rammed at this time of the morning, full of keen city types pretending they couldn’t wait to get to work. In truth, like her, they’d all prefer to be at home in bed.

When she reached the front of the line, she sank into the back of a black cab. Fortunately, she’d lucked out. The taxi driver was also morose, allowing Tally to slip into despair in peace without having to pretend to be interested in someone else’s mindless chatter.

Forty-five long minutes later, she arrived at Em’s new place. When Tally moved to Northern Ireland, Em had given up their old flat. She now lived a few streets away in a one-bed apartment that was cheaper on rent.

The taxi driver barely waited for Tally to slam the boot before he sped off, no doubt in search of the next lucrative fare. Damn. What if Em isn’t at home? Only one way to find out. With her luggage trailing behind her, she walked up the narrow path. She pressed the bell for flat four and waited.

“Hello?”

“Em, it’s me.”

“Tal?” Em said, her tone full of surprise. “What the fuck? Hang on.”

Less than thirty seconds later, the door opened. Em took one look at Tally’s face, her eyes flickering to where Tally was clutching her luggage, fingers red from the wind and cold, and surprise turned to concern.

“You’re freezing. Get in here.” Em plucked a suitcase from Tally’s hand and led her upstairs to the flat. “In there, babes,” she said, pointing to the living room before she disappeared into the kitchen.

Tally dropped onto the sofa and pressed her fingertips to her temples. Exhausted and overwrought, all she wanted was to sleep, to wish away the nightmare of the past five hours and wake up next to Cash.

“Here you go,” Em said, passing her a steaming cup of coffee. “What’s the matter, babes?”

Tally took the mug from her. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Wherever you need to.”

“He’s kicked me out.”

Em’s mouth fell open. “He’s fucking what?”

Tally’s eyes welled up, and despite furious blinking, the tears spilled over. “He said he doesn’t love me anymore,” she said, dashing the back of her hand across her damp cheeks.

Em frowned. “Of course he loves you. The man worships the ground you walk on.”

Tally shook her head. “Not anymore. He’s different since the accident. It doesn’t matter what I do, Em. I can’t reach him.”

Em wrapped her fingers around Tally’s and squeezed. “How did all this come about?”

“I found him watching the Singapore Masters early this morning. God, Em, he looked so broken.” Her breath caught on a sob. “We started rowing. Well, he did really. And then he threw a vase at me.”

“He what?”

Tally reassuringly patted Em’s hand. “Not at me. He didn’t aim for me. His anger flares up from nowhere, and he reacts. After he threw it, he told me to go. He said he didn’t want me anymore.” Her voice cracked. “He said I wasn’t his type. That I never had been.”

Grief and desperation surged through her, taking her breath away with its intensity, and her whole body trembled with the effort of dragging in the air her lungs demanded. Em pulled her close.

“Babes, this can’t be right. There must be a reason. Cash loves you.”

Tally eased her fingers from beneath Em’s tight hold and rubbed her eyes. “You weren’t there. His face… Em, he looked as though he hated me.”

Em scratched her cheek, a deepening frown pulling her brows low. “I don’t get it.”

Tally’s shoulders dropped. Her whole world had crashed around her, and she felt as though she was floating above her body, looking down on the shell of a person who used to love and be loved. This had to be a terrible nightmare.

“I know you don’t have the room, but can I sleep on the sofa until I get myself sorted?”

Em’s warm hand rubbed soothing circles against her back. “For as long as you need, babes.”

“Love you,” Tally whispered as more tears fell.

“Want me to cancel work today?”

“No. To be honest, I’d welcome a bit of time on my own.”

“Does Pete know?”

“Not yet.” Tally clamped her eyes shut. “I need to work out what to say before I go to see him.”

“This is the place to do that.” Em glanced at her watch. “Shit. I’m late.” She wheeled out of the room and, after a lot of clattering and banging, returned fifteen minutes later carrying four bags, her back curved from the weight of them all.

“Today’s client thinks I can make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Clearly, I’m going to need every fucking trick in the book.”

Despite the hollow ache in her chest, Tally laughed. “If anyone can, you can.”

Em grimaced. “We’ll see.” She gave Tally a forlorn stare. “We’ll talk properly later. Everything will work out. I promise.”

The silence that enveloped Tally when Em left was almost oppressive. She lay down on the sofa and curled her knees into her chest then closed her eyes and slept.

* * *

Tally woke a few hours later with a stiff neck. She drew the back of her hand across her mouth, wiping drool from the corners. The sun had dipped low in the sky, casting a weak shadow into Em’s living room. She pushed herself to a seated position and massaged the tight muscles in the back of her neck. The sofa was comfy enough, but it didn’t come close to her bed at home. Except she didn’t have a home anymore.

A wave of despair crashed over her as she faced her new reality.

No Cash.

No home.

No future.

She trudged into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. After opening several cupboards, she managed to locate a jar of instant coffee. She spooned a heaped amount into a mug in the vain hope caffeine would make her feel better. It wouldn’t, of course. There was no cure for a broken heart.

The kettle had just boiled when the front door slammed.

“Tal?”

“In here.”

The sound of several bags being dropped on the floor was followed by Em appearing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Make that two.” Em flopped into one of two chairs pushed up against the kitchen wall.

She added slightly less coffee to Em’s mug and put it on the table in front of her. Tally remained standing, blew on her drink, and took a cautious sip. “How’s the sow’s ear?”

Em made an exaggerated motion with her hands. “I tell you, babes, I’m a fucking genius. ’Course, it’s a lot easier when you start with a better canvas, but still, I impressed myself.”

Tally chuckled. “You always were a miracle worker. I should know.”

Em snorted. “Hardly. Comparing you to her is like comparing a Van Gogh to some production-line picture you can pick up at Ikea.” She kicked her shoes off, and they thudded against the kitchen cabinets. A relieved sigh spilled from her lips. “Enough about me. How are you doing?”

“Not great.”

“Has he been in touch?”

“No.” Tally gave a short, bitter laugh. “I don’t expect him to.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“You don’t give a minute, do you?”

Em leaned back. She crossed one foot over the opposing knee and began massaging the sole of her foot. “I don’t mean to push, babes, but I know you. The last thing you need is time to think. Keeping busy—that’s the key.”

Tally blew out a soft sigh tinged with defeat. “I guess the best thing would be to ask Pete for my job back. If he’ll have me.”

“Of course he’ll have you.”

Tally sighed. “I’m dreading having to tell people and watch them pity me.”

“Then don’t. Tell them to mind their own fucking business.”

As another wave of hopelessness and loss washed over her, she covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

Em rose from her chair and wrapped her arms around Tally’s shoulders then gently rocked her back and forth like a mother soothing a distressed child. “You don’t have to rush into anything, but at least make the beginnings of a plan. Don’t let the days slide by, Tal. That’s when depression sets in.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Right,” Em said gruffly. “I can’t be arsed cooking. Let’s get pizza.” She grabbed a bunch of takeout menus from the drawer beside the sink and began riffling through. After reaching into her bag for her phone, she swiftly brushed away a tear.

“I’ll be okay,” Tally said, her voice small and tinged with defeat.

Em turned to face her. “As if you haven’t been through enough, what with Cash’s accident and everything.”

Sorrow squeezed her heart. “I wouldn’t change a single thing, even if I knew how it ended.”

“This isn’t the real Cash. You know that, right?”

A headache began to pound behind Tally’s eyes, and she dug her fingertips into her temples. “After his accident, I read everything I could get my hands on about head-injury victims. It changes people, Em. Changes their personalities. I couldn’t find one case where the victim wasn’t different in some way. And seventy-five per cent of couples split up following severe head injury.” She sighed wistfully. “I was certain we’d be in the twenty-five per cent. Shows how wrong you can be.”

“So you’ve given up on him?”

Tally expelled a frustrated breath. “No. He’s given up on me.”

“But—”

She put her hands in the air, warding off any further comment. “Let’s talk about something else, please. Order the pizza.”

* * *

When Tally climbed into her makeshift bed later that night, she allowed her mind to wander. Her chest ached with despair. If she weren’t careful, depression would join the party, as Em had warned. Tally hadn’t considered a future without Cash, not for a long time. In the beginning, she constantly waited for him to dump her, but she hadn’t suffered those feelings for a long time. He’d made her feel secure wrapped in his love, and she’d planned a whole life, with him at the centre of it. Marriage, career, kids. Now she had to walk in a different direction. Alone.

Hot tears sprang to her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. Not this time. She needed to toughen up, and quick. The next few weeks were going to be hell. If she allowed the pain to suffocate her like last time they’d split up—after Kinga had sent the photographs of Cash kissing Gracie, his mother’s nurse—the road back would be torturous.

Sleep, when it came, was fitful, and as the first rays of daylight seeped through the blinds, Tally flung off the covers and stiffly got to her feet. She showered and dressed as quietly as possible, left Em a note telling her where she was going, and slipped out of the flat. It was barely past six, but Pete had always been an early riser, and Tally wanted to catch him before he left for work. She couldn’t face talking to him at the paper, not with all those curious eyes raking over the dying embers of her life.

The tube was quiet—the hour being too early for most commuters—and Tally easily got a seat. Pete’s place was only a few stops from Em’s, and at six thirty, Tally found herself standing outside. The blinds were open, meaning he was up, but he wouldn’t have left for work yet. She took a deep breath and rang the bell, its peal sounding hollow in the hallway.

Pete’s grumbles seeped through the door, and she couldn’t help a small smile from creeping across her lips. He’d be pissed off, assuming she was an early cold caller, and he’d be getting ready to give her a piece of his mind.

The heavy mahogany door swung back, showing Pete’s mouth already open in readiness to berate the poor sucker. When he saw Tally, surprise flashed across his face.

“Tally? What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure, sure.” He stepped back and drew her into his arms as he kicked the door shut. “What’s wrong? Is it Cash? He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“Let’s go and sit down, Uncle Pete.”

She ignored the look of confusion he gave her at the word Uncle—a moniker she rarely turned to these days—and brushed past him into the living room. She sank into her favourite chair.

Pete sat opposite, a deep frown knitting his eyebrows together. “What’s going on?”

Tally steadied herself. “Cash and I… we’ve split up.”

Pete’s head flinched to one side as though he’d been slapped across the face. “What?”

“He… I… he doesn’t want me anymore. Told me to go. So I did.”

Pete’s eyes widened, his posture stiffening. “Tally, the man’s not in his right mind. He won’t have meant it. Have you called him?”

“He meant it. You didn’t see his face. He’s not the person he was.”

“When was this?”

“Yesterday.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He held out his arms. “Come here.”

Tally rose from her chair and nestled next to Pete on the sofa. His warm, comforting embrace was exactly what she needed, and he held her without saying a word as she cried. It was one of the many things she loved about him. He knew when to talk, and he knew when to be quiet.

Spent and exhausted, she finally sat up. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a tissue, and blew her nose. “You need to change your shirt.”

Pete glanced down and rubbed at the wet patch her tears had created. “It’ll soon dry.”

“At least dab it with some water. The salt will make the fabric go stiff.”

“Are we really sitting here talking about my bloody shirt? What do you need me to do?”

She took a breath and met his gaze. “Can I have my job back?”

“No.”

Tally blanched, a sudden coldness striking her core at his harsh and instantaneous refusal of her request. “Why not? It’s what I need.”

“No, it isn’t. What you need is space. Time to get your head around what’s happened. Coming back to work, with the resultant stress, is the last thing you need.”

Tally repetitively rubbed her forehead. “I’m not earning enough freelancing yet. I need a steady income. I can’t afford to take a break or wallow in self-pity. I know I’ve messed you about, but please, Pete. I’m begging you.”

Pete chewed his lip and didn’t answer. She needed him to agree. If he didn’t take her back, she didn’t know what she’d do for money. She couldn’t expect Em to subsidise her living expenses. Em barely earned enough to keep herself afloat.

“You have money,” Pete finally said.

Tally frowned in confusion, and then her eyes widened. “I will not be using Cash’s credit card, if that’s what you mean. I’m cutting it up as soon as I get home.”

“No, that’s not it. You have your own money.” When Tally stared in utter bewilderment, Pete continued. “Your dad had an insurance policy that paid out when he died. The money went into a trust. I’m the trustee.”

Almost robotically, Tally raised a hand to her head. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

Pete shrugged apologetically. “Your dad insisted I was to let you have the money only when a real need arose. That time is now.”

It took a second or two for the information to sink in. When it did, her relief was tinged with annoyance at the collusion. “I can’t believe this.”

Pete patted her hand. “I did what I thought was best. I was planning to give you the money on your wedding day, but now…”

“How much money?”

Pete rocked his head from side to side. “About one hundred and fifty thousand.”

Tally’s mouth dropped open. “A hundred and fifty thousand pounds?”

He cracked a small smile. “Yes.”

“Holy shit.” Tally rose from her seat and paced across the room. This was unbelievable. Unbelievable. Her dad had died right before the credit crunch hit, and by the time she’d recovered enough from the shock to agree to sell the house, the proceeds had barely covered the mortgage. And now this bombshell. That amount of money would bring her freedom, choice. It would give her space to sort out her screwed-up life, not to mention her screwed-up head.

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Oh, Uncle Pete, thank you.” She flung herself at him, and as his arms came around her once more, a wave of unconditional love brought tears to her eyes.

“I still think you should call Cash,” Pete said when they finally broke apart.

“He hasn’t called me.” Tally winced as the hollow ache in her chest made a comeback.

“Do you really want to play that game?”

She got to her feet. “It’s over. Let it lie.”

“Why don’t I call him? Have a chat. Man to man.”

“No.” Her hands formed into fists. “I’m not a child. Leave it, please.”

Pete made a frustrated noise. “All relationships go through bad times, Tally, although you and Cash have had more than your fair share. You need to remember, the ones that survive are where both sides fight, and fight hard.”

She exhaled on a sigh. “I would fight if Cash would let me, but he’s given up—on himself and on us. What else can I do?” A pang in her heart made it difficult to breathe, and she rested a hand against the fireplace to steady herself.

Pete’s face softened. “Look, go back to Em’s and have a think about what you want to do, but my advice, for what it’s worth, is to take your time. There’s no need to do anything rash.”

Tally chewed over Pete’s revelation as she rode the tube back to the flat. As she walked up to Em’s building and let herself in, a wave of nostalgia brought a smile to her lips. Although Dad was no longer alive, he’d still managed to save her.