Chapter 25
Sammy’s words about Reece should be the ones that hold my attention. What to do about my current relationship is what should be concerning me.
But it’s not Reece who’s occupying my mind.
“Anna, would you like to share?” I tune back in at the sound of my name and realise everyone’s eyes are on me. Most of the people looking at me in this meeting are familiar. They’ve heard parts of my story, heard about the constant struggle on the bad days and even on the good. Their empathy is deeper than most because we shared a lived experience.
“Um, sure.” My hands clench in front of me, and I try to organise the words in my head. “My name is Anna. I’ve been sober for three years now. The start of summer is always a hard time for me, but I recognise that, and make sure I have support around me. I’ve felt distracted this year, but I want to keep what I’ve worked for more than reaching for my next drink.”
There’s a general hubbub of support, but I’m already off in my mind.
The meetings usually help ground me and set things in focus, but the pull towards Jeremy is undeniable, even now. And I almost welcome it, like I want to test something, challenge him and how far I’ve come.
I pay attention for the rest of the night, listening and nodding along, but as soon as it’s over, I’m out the door and race to get home.
Even though I’m distracted, I don’t feel the same level of need to get wasted as I used to and always feared. I cling to that victory as I try to settle and find sleep without dreaming of the good times.
My homemade sandwich is taunting me, sitting in the little Tupperware box on my desk and begging to be eaten. It’s the right thing to do, even if my mind is already at the coffee shop and who I might see there. Although, popping out to grab something much more tasty is appealing.
But I sit at my desk, eat my lunch, and focus on my work for the rest of the day.
I reward myself on the way home. I never go to the coffee shop at this time of day, and I refuse to avoid somewhere I love just in case my luck runs out. The odds are stacked in my favour — there’s no reason why he’d be here.
I make it inside the shop and order a chocolate milkshake. The weather is balmy, and I need to cool off from the fast stride I took from the office. It reminds me that summer has arrived, and I should embrace it.
As I push the door to leave and turn, I see that Jeremy is sitting on the empty table just outside the door.
“Anna,” he greets and looks up at me, his sunglasses shielding his eyes from mine.
I shake my head, but there’s a part of me — a narcissistic spot deep inside — that likes that he’s here. It’s my secret and sits at the heart of the toxicity between us, breaking through to steer my actions.
“You’ve got to stop this.” I turn away from him, unable to admit that a part of me likes seeing him. But as I start to walk away, he follows. “I’ve not seen you in over four years. Now, in less than two weeks, I’ve seen you three separate times.”
“A happy coincidence. Let it go, Anna.”
“No,” I turn to face him, “I need you to stop.”
“Stop what? I’m not doing anything.” His smile tugs at his lips, but it just makes me mad. He might not be, and I might be in part to blame, tempting fate. “You seem to be everywhere I am,” I complain. “Why? Why now, if you haven’t left?”
“As I said, a coincidence. But if it will make you happy, I won’t come here again.”
“Thank you.” I turn away, force my foot to take the next step and start walking. Just talking with Jeremy is playing with fire, and I wish I could push him away and truly forget.
His hand wraps around my wrist to stop me, pulling me back towards him. “You know, I’d never do anything to hurt you. That’s still the case and will never change.”
Every time I see him, it gets harder to keep the anger front and centre in our interactions.
I nod, not sure what else to say, but he’s hurt me more than anyone else has. I have to remember that.
“Take a walk with me?” His thumb circles the pulse on my wrist as he asks. “No fighting, just—” He brushes my hair behind my ear with his other hand, and my nerves spark like firecrackers with the contact, making my stomach drop like the world just dipped.
“That’s not a good idea.” I go to pull my arm away, but he keeps hold, the grip just enough to stop me and start my heart pounding in my chest.
“Why?”
“Because.” I search for the words— for anything to use against him. “We’re not a good idea. And I’m with someone,” I add the last bit as if it can form some kind of defence.
“I don’t fucking care about him because there shouldn’t be anyone else except for me. And you know it, Anna.”
“No. Stop. That’s not fair.”
“Who said anything about being fair.” He closes the gap further, tugging me towards him and pushes his sunglasses from his face as though he knows that if I look at him — really look — I’ll be lost. “I still love you, Anna.”
My eyes close at his words, shielding me for a moment as I feel my heart rip in my chest, torn between what I want to do and what I know I should do. I’m not a bad person, but around Jeremy, all my sense of reason vanishes.
All my feelings are right there, ready to break through the rubble of my broken heart and gasp for breath at hearing his words.
“I don’t believe you,” I lie.
“I don’t care. It’s the truth.”
“What do you want from me?” I cleave myself from his grasp, suddenly angry at how he’s manipulating me.
“I want you. I need you. And I know you want me, too.”
My head shakes, protesting even with my heart thundering in my chest.
I can’t.
I won’t.
This is too dangerous. He’s my weakness, and I should know better.
“Anna?”
He calls, but I keep walking and don’t look back. I keep my eyes set on the path in front and take the scenic route back home, giving me time to steady myself because I’m shaking. Every fibre of my body shakes with nervous energy, fear, and the need to feel the way he used to make me feel — utterly loved.
After each interaction with him, the need to reach out and tell Mum has been at the surface. She’s been my confidant and my best friend through everything over the last few years. But I haven’t told her that he’s back. It’s my secret, my news that I can keep playing around with in my own head until I’m ready.
Once I tell her, it will shift everything, and I’ll be back under a microscope.
Through rehab and counselling and writing every aspect of myself down onto paper, I didn’t get to keep any personal thoughts just for me. They all became someone else’s to pick over and analyse. Sharing was what was and still is expected in meetings.
But I don’t want to share Jeremy with anyone. That’s always been the case and now is no different, despite how bad I know he can be.
The distraction of Jeremy has meant I’ve ignored the problem with Reece, and I’ve still not spoken to him. But after the showdown with Jeremy, I can’t put it off any longer, and I invite him over.
It will give me the opportunity to try and push things one way or the other like Sammy suggested, only I’m more confused about which way.
With only a look from Jeremy, I crave his touch and his attention.
There’s nothing like that with Reece.
I’m in the kitchen putting away a few dishes when I hear the door close. The fact that he still considers it okay to use his key just sets me off in the wrong direction. But I take a breath and try to rise above it.
“I’m in the kitchen,” I call.
“Hey.” He appears and leans on the door jam.
“Ooh, what are you making?”
“Actually, I’m not cooking. I’m clearing away.”
“I thought you invited me over?” He stands a little straighter and looks confused.
“Did talk suddenly become code for dinner? After everything that’s been going on between us, I thought that would be the priority.” I whip the cloth down by my side so the fabric snaps the air around it and wait for his response.
“Fine. Okay. I’m sorry. Crossed wires.”
“No shit.”
“Look, you’ve been in a bad mood for days. This isn’t all on me,” he starts.
“Fine. Okay. Where do you see this,” I point between us, “going?” I cross my arms and wait.
“Honestly,” he crosses his arms like mine, “I thought we’d be closer by now. You seem to blow hot and cold and clearly have a problem with your own space. We don’t share with each other, like that friend you ran into. I don’t know anything about you.”
“That’s never been a problem before,” I say in defence.
“Well, maybe it is when you’ve been seeing that person for more than a few months.”
“Okay. And what about you using my space as yours?”
“I thought we were in a relationship where things like that get a little blurred after months together. Sorry for assuming. If you cared to share more than simply what you wanted for dinner and how your day was, maybe I’d have some clues to work with.”
He’s right. Which just pisses me off more. I don’t share, but I have a good reason for that. But maybe this is the make or break.
I look at him, stare at him and wait to see if there’s any kind of reaction to him: that magic pull, that little flicker of excitement. Surely, I’m owed that from someone other than Jeremy?
“Urghh.” I storm out of the kitchen and into the living room. Reece follows. “Okay. You want to know more? Sit.”
He does.
And I take a long, deep breath as I prepare to explain my darkest secret.
“When I was at school, finishing my A levels, I dabbled in drugs.” My mind sifts through the scattering of memories that led up to that. “Only, it got out of hand, and I became addicted. I drank. I smoked, took pills, coke, anything. It got really bad and pretty dark, and it took me a while to see that, but then I went to rehab and pulled myself out.” I look up at him, and the disgust on his face is clear. His eyes have narrowed, and his top lip is raised in a disapproving snarl. He’s looking at me like I’m some dirty junky with needles sticking in my arms.
I nearly was, at my lowest. I still have nightmares about waking up in that house with vomit over me or breaking into Jeremy’s to steal his mother’s supply.
“Explains your moods.”
I bite my tongue at the response I want to shove at him. “And why I don’t drink. Even though you seem to forget that detail when it suits you.” I can’t leave that bit out.
“Are you using again? Is that why you’ve been in a bad mood.”
It’s there in his voice, the condescending, accusatory tone, like suddenly I’m lesser than the person I was before telling him. And that’s where I draw the line.
“No. I’m not. I’ve been clean and sober for three years. But I don’t appreciate you looking like I’m something you just scraped off your shoe.”
“Well, sorry, but things are different now.”
“Oh, really? Don’t want to move your PlayStation in or use this place as your personal home office now?”
“Well, no.” He looks put out and stands.
“Oh my god. To think I thought you were kind at one point. What was wrong with me?” My head starts to spin as I think about how blind I’ve been to this guy, and I stomp a circle around the coffee table in front of me, shell-shocked. I thought he was kind. I thought he was the type of guy I should be with after Jeremy. And he’s just an arsehole.
“I’m going to leave.”
“You do that. Oh, and I want my key back.”
He leaves, slamming the door after throwing the key in my face.
Good. I don’t need someone like that.
But there’s a strand of sadness wrapping around my heart.
It’s irrational. I don’t want Reece. I don’t love him. And the way he looked at me brought up all my fears. All my shame. His disapproval gave them room to flourish like weeds inside my head.
He rejected me because of my past and what I was. He didn’t care about how hard I’ve worked to get to where I am today, putting my demons to rest.
And all of this wouldn’t have even been an issue if it weren’t for Jeremy.
He put doubt into my head. He’s made me question things I’d never have needed to.
My feelings twist and warp in my head and my heart until I’m storming from the house with only one clear destination.
I’m hot and sweaty by the time I reach the familiar front door. And the run hasn’t cooled me off or cleared my mind. I’m mad. And angry and hurt.
My fist bangs on the door in tempo with the beat of my heart.
He mentioned his mum is still here, and I hope she doesn’t answer. What would I say to her after all this time?
But that doesn’t happen. Jeremy stands on the other side as the door opens, the same sombre look he’s always carried. His eyes meet mine for a split second as I’m still catching my breath, and then he grabs me, pulling me to him and assaulting me with a kiss that’s so desperate — so passionate — that it steals all of my senses.
He drags us back inside the door and then pushes me up against it, pinning me in place while he continues his assault. My lips are already swollen as his kisses grow urgent, and his mouth travels down my neck to my collarbone and back up to my face.
“God, I’ve missed you. So fucking much.”
His words don’t soothe me; they cut deep, slicing at the pain still locked in my heart and letting it bleed out all over again. But they’re also everything I need to hear.
Even after all we’ve been through, he still wants me more than anything. I can feel it — taste it. And that’s maybe more addictive than anything I can take myself.
“It killed me seeing you with that guy.” He pants between kisses as his hands roam over my body, like he’s remembering the curve and shape of me against his touch. “I wanted to tear him away from you.”
“Is this what this is about? Jealousy?” I breathe the words, already high from Jeremy alone.
He stops and grabs my jaw with his fingers, making sure there’s nowhere I can look but at him. “Insanely.” He moves so his lips are at the shell of my ear, his breath teasing and sending a riot of nerves through my body. “There shouldn’t be anyone else, Anna.”
I close my eyes, ready to surrender. “You can’t say that only when it suits you. I’ve not seen you for years.” It’s a last protest, but I already know I’ve lost.
“Who says I won’t say that forever?”
I used to think that we would be together forever. That special time before things grew too bleak. But he spat that back in my face at the jetty. And where’s he been for the last few years, if that’s how he feels?
“Don’t be cruel. You don’t mean it.”
“It’s the truth. It’s only ever been you, Anna. Only you. Only us.”
The words infect me, drawing me back to the past and helping me skip over everything I’m sad about. His hands continue their caress, but it’s not enough. I want him. I want him to take me and forget everything that’s come before.
His kiss deepens as he pushes me back against the door, leaving no room to escape. His tongue licks at my lips as he pants, smothering me with his body.
My fingers glide up the line of buttons on his chest and pull at each one until I can run my hand over the ridges of muscle hidden beneath.
More.
I want more.
“Hurry up and fuck me, Jeremy,” I moan as I tilt my head back.
He pulls back, confusion marring his face. But my arms reach up and pull him back to me.
“Fine.” He grabs me and lifts me off my feet, but only to twist us around. He lays me on the table in the middle of the entry hall before pulling at my trainers and then dragging my leggings down my legs. When he’s got them off, he pulls his cock from his jeans and shoves my knickers aside, lining up and ramming into me.
“God, yes,” I moan. It’s delicious and satisfying, and I melt into the wood beneath me.
“Fuck, Anna,” he curses and grips my hips. He shifts and then thrusts back in, jolting the edge of the table, but it shifts me, hitting that spot inside that makes me want to fly.
He keeps going, and I grip his waist with my legs. The rhythm builds, growing faster with his pace, and the shunt of the table grinds against the marble floor as he keeps going.
“This is how I want you. Open to me. Mine. Don’t you feel how good we can be?”
“Yes. Yes!” The words are just those. Words. There’s a deeper feeling awakening inside of me. Desire, deep and sensual, is filtering through my body. “Harder, Jere. Please. Fuck me.” I’ve never been loud before, but it’s always been there, behind my innocence or age. Now, I know how good it can be. I deserve to feel good.
He slams his hips forward, jolting me and rubbing my clit at the same time. It sparks the coil of nerves in my gut. “Yeah, more, more. Come on,” I pant, my breathing now loud and desperate.
The crash of glass hitting the floor doesn’t even stop us. Jeremy keeps pounding into me, his jaw tight, his fingers tighter, digging into my flesh.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I moan as my climax floods my body.
My limbs go weak, and I sense as Jeremy reaches his own peak, shuddering and stilling inside me.
The hall is quiet, our breathing lost in the size of the space.
After a few moments, he pulls out and scoops me in his arms, and I let him, wrapping my arms around his neck in my sleepy, sated haze.
The gentle sway tells me he’s moving us and climbing the stairs.
We’re in his room.
On his bed.
And I let sleep claim me.