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Back When I Lost You Save as PDF
Chapters (81)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. Prologue
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-one
  26. Twenty-two
  27. Twenty-three
  28. Twenty-four
  29. Twenty-five
  30. Twenty-six
  31. Twenty-seven
  32. Twenty-eight
  33. Twenty-nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-one
  36. Thirty-two
  37. Thirty-three
  38. Thirty-four
  39. Thirty-five
  40. Thirty-six
  41. Thirty-seven
  42. Thirty-eight
  43. Thirty-nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-one
  46. Forty-two
  47. Forty-three
  48. Forty-four
  49. Forty-five
  50. Forty-six
  51. Forty-seven
  52. Forty-eight
  53. Forty-nine
  54. Fifty
  55. Fifty-one
  56. Fifty-two
  57. Fifty-three
  58. Fifty-four
  59. Fifty-five
  60. Fifty-six
  61. Fifty-seven
  62. Fifty-eight
  63. Fifty-nine
  64. Sixty
  65. Sixty-one
  66. Sixty-two
  67. Sixty-three
  68. Sixty-four
  69. Sixty-five
  70. Sixty-six
  71. Sixty-seven
  72. Epilogue
  73. Acknowledgments
  74. Read More
  75. Prologue
  76. One
  77. Two
  78. Three
  79. Four
  80. Follow Merilyn online
  81. Dedication

I start to hear voices, raised, angry, coming from the front room. I walk quietly to the door, straining to hear what is being said, but the door has been shut and all I can gather is it’s my parents who are angry. Hearing footsteps, I hurry back to the kettle; I am expecting Mum to appear by the door, but it’s Simon.

‘Are you going to be long?’ He looks cross. His cheeks are flushed and the space between his eyebrows is furrowed in the way it always is when he is angry or concerned, and I think how funny it is you can sometimes know someone so well, yet also not at all.

I turn to put the milk on the tray. ‘Two minutes.’ I keep my tone light, uninterested. ‘Is there something wrong?’

‘Why do you ask that?’

I have my back to him, but I can still see the tense shoulders, the brief clench of his jaw. I am a constant source of annoyance to him, so I know those mannerisms well. ‘I just thought I heard raised voices.’

He lets out a practised sigh. ‘It’s nothing to concern yourself with. Not everything is about you, you know, Rachel.’

And I almost laugh, because we both know it is.

I turn with the tray and hold it out to him. He hesitates and I wonder if he’s going to make a point of not helping me, but we both know that would only confirm I am the source of disagreement and so he steps forward to take it from me.

‘How was last night?’ I say, as he turns to leave. He stops, silent; I begin to feel a tightness in my chest, a weakness in my legs, and it’s unbearable to not ask, so I do. ‘Did Alice go?’

He slowly turns towards me. Instead of the anger I expected, his face is pale, slack, all tension gone. I try to work out if this is a good thing, that she didn’t turn up, and is still out there somewhere, safe.

‘She did,’ he finally says. I wait for more and when it doesn’t come, I ask, ‘How was she?’

He looks in pain, his face contorted in a way I’ve never seen before, mouth open to speak but unable to form the words he has to say. I grab the table; I can’t feel my legs, the room has become too hot, I pull at my collar desperately – tugging and tugging until the material bites into my skin. Simon puts the tray down, takes my wrists, pulling them down beside my hips and bends his head down to catch my eye. ‘She died, Rachel.’

I stare at him, no thought of how or why, just thoughts of the gulf that’s opened up inside me and which I’m about to fall into.