“Goodbye, forever,” she muttered, dropping it in. She let the lid bang shut.

“Everything okay?” Enid asked, looking up from the new computer.

“Yes, fine, better than fine.” Megan rubbed her hands together. “That shoe held bad memories and right now I haven’t got room in my head for that kind of stuff.”

“I totally agree, dear, out with the old and in with the new, that’s what I always say.”

Although the afternoon dragged for Megan—because she just wanted to be alone with James—there was lots to be getting on with. Things she’d had to put off because of dealing with more monotonous jobs. But with Enid firmly settled at her desk back at the office and fielding calls and emails, Megan was free to work on new designs and next week’s Ralph and Jayne presentation.

As she let herself into her ground-floor apartment, her bones were weary yet her mind alive. Her future felt bright and full again. A wonderful contrast to only weeks ago.

She shut the door, dropped her keys on the side then picked up her mail. Two bills, a letter from a charity and something for the previous occupier who’d moved out years ago. And one white envelope with just Megan written on the front.

A wave of anxiety went through her. It was the same as the day before. No stamp, no address, clearly hand-delivered. And because her name was typed, it seemed the sender didn’t want her to recognise their handwriting.

She walked into the kitchen and tore open the envelope.

Like before, the paper inside was blank.

She tutted, scrunched it into a ball then threw the letter into the bin. What a waste of time.

There was a sudden noise behind her.

Megan turned, pressing her hand to her chest to try to calm her thumping heart.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Dylan, what the hell…?” Her stomach did a flip. It was the first time she’d seen him since she’d left him at the altar. He looked bigger than ever, wearing just a white vest top, his muscles pumped up. But his hair was a little wild, he was unshaven, which wasn’t like him, and his eyes flashed the way they did in her dream.

“How did you…?” She glanced at the hallway. He didn’t have a key, she knew he didn’t. She’d made sure of that.

“You’ve always forgotten to lock the door when you walk in.”

He was right, she did—he used to yell at her for it.

“You shouldn’t be here.” A tremble of nerves went through her. A menacing vibe was coming from him and his hands were curled into fists.

“Of course I should be here.” He held out his hands and unfurled his fingers. “We need to talk. The way it ended…it was all wrong.”