Chapters (56)
I’m not sure who moved first but it seemed natural to hug again. It had been hard telling her about Nikki but I felt like I’d taken another one of those baby steps. Despite the empathy and understanding that my parents, Jack and Millie, and other well-meaning friends had shown, none of them had really understood. None of them had lost someone they loved. But Jemma had. Scott hadn’t died but she’d certainly suffered a sudden and unexpected loss. And for a brief moment, much as I wasn’t a believer in fate, I wondered if Jemma and I had been brought together for a reason. She needed me and I needed her.
A text came through while I was getting ready for work after a few surprisingly deep hours of sleep back at my flat; the most unbroken sleep I’d had since Nikki died:
✉︎ From Jemma
Hi Sam. Just wanted to let you know that I’ve spoken to Rachel this morning. Mum’s OK but was in the shower so I haven’t spoken to her yet. Owen’s given me the rest of the week off so I’m getting the 10:30 train home. Back on Sunday. Thanks for being there when I needed you last night. You’re my knight in shining armour. I’m so sorry again about Nikki. I’m here for you x
✉︎ To Jemma
Keep me posted about your mum and shout up if I can give you any more advice. Thanks for listening. I haven’t told anyone down here about Nikki but talking to you helped. I should probably tell Tiff next x
✉︎ From Jemma
It might help. I won’t say anything to any of them in the meantime. It’s your news for when you’re feeling ready x
✉︎ To Jemma
Thanks. Hope it goes well at home this week. I’m at the end of a phone if you need me x
✉︎ From Jemma
Thanks. And sorry again about the lost fiancées club comment. OMG! What was that?! *blushes*
She followed it up with a sticker of a cartoon panda’s face with bright red cheeks, which made me laugh. It was exactly the sort of thing Nikki would have done. She’d always been able to make light of a bad situation and not let it get her down. I was more of a thinker and could really dwell on things. Nikki hadn’t let me. She always made me talk about it, learn from it, and move on. So what had I done since she’d died? Refuse to talk about it, run away from it, and let it control my life.
Until last night.