Page 119 of Tears of Gold

Sighing, I fall back into my chair. “When were you thinking? I’m meeting a magazine next week, and I’ve got a meeting with Channel 4 on Friday.”

He sniggers. “Yeah, you are right, you are absolutely no one.”

“I’ll come in tomorrow.”

“Thank you. You are my absolute favourite sister by marriage.”

“I’ll tell that to Tabitha.”

“I doubt she will care at the moment.”

“She’s gone home you know?”

He sighs. “I know. That is one little broken heart.”

“Let’s hope Connie doesn’t make it too hellish for her.”

“You won’t let her,” Jeremy says with absolute conviction. I have no idea who people think they are, but they are under some serious form of disillusion.

We hang up and Gerard watches me expectantly. “Don’t ask,” I warn.

“Don’t need to. I already know.”

“Whatever. I’ve got a class to get to.”

I toss and turn all night. My arms ache for Eli, my heart hollow in my chest; but I refuse to cry, to wallow, to fall. I focus on me and the baby. My hand on my tummy, my thoughts focused and determined. If they wander off, taking me to dark places, I pull them back and focus on the now. On my breath. On living.

After my shower, I pull on black skinny jeans, a baggy sweater, and brown soft leather ankle boots. I haven’t stepped foot in a high school since I left. Maybe it’s changed, maybe it hasn’t. The angry young woman who stalked out the gates for the last time without a backwards glance has changed though. Is changing.

I sign in and wait for Jeremy to come and get me. He looks frazzled as he steps towards me, palming his hair with one hand while simultaneously pushing his glasses up with the other.

“Wow. You look like you’ve had a crappy morning already.”

“Meh.” He leans closer and kisses my cheek. “And you look positively radiant.”

“Shut up.”

He grins and pushes back my shoulders. “I heard a rumour you were looking as rough as old boots but look at you all glowing.”

“Glowing? I’m suffering a major heartbreak here.”

“I wonder if Eli is looking as good as you?”

My heart clenches at the mention of Eli’s name. My cries in my sleep chasing me even though I’m awake.

It’s best to change the subject. That way I can’t think about how Eli looked propped against his doorframe the other night like he was experiencing some apocalyptic end of the world.

Fight.

Strong.

Honest.

Fight.

Strong.

Honest.