2. Didn’t Realise You Were Back
DIDN’T REALISE YOU WERE BACK
ANNELISA
The next morning, I sit down at the desk in the office and take a sip of my iced coffee while I stare out at the view behind my laptop screen. Procrastinating instead of working on my latest draft has become a common theme for me lately.
The cursor on the blank screen taunts me, flashing a steady beat, reminding me that my writer’s block is still holding firm.
No wonder my agent is getting crabby with me.
It’s been months since I’ve given her anything good.
But it’s like my imagination for romance has completely disappeared, replaced instead by static noise.
All my books have been following the same theme the past couple of years.
Second chance romance is a booming business, but the publishers are asking me for more variety.
More like my older style - filled with optimistic women and swoon-worthy men who fall madly in love and hope - that still fly off the shelves.
But I no longer recognise the woman who wrote them.
Now, if they want books with the heroine who is a bit broken and is very familiar with the bottom of her wine glass, I’m their woman.
I don’t know how to write stories full of hope anymore.
Ten minutes pass, and I still haven’t written a word.
Giving up on pretending I have anything to write, I push my chair back and head towards the front door.
Pulling my runners on, I grab my keys and earbuds from the bowl where I’ve been keeping them on the side table, sliding my phone into the pocket of my tights.
Hoping that a quick 5-km run will blow out the cobwebs in my brain, I pull the door shut behind me and jog down the stairs.
I got into running seven years ago, when I’d been searching for ways to calm my mind and help me sleep.
Prior to that, I had been a dedicated couch potato, happily watching TV with my boyfriend or going out for drinks with friends at the pub, and never once considering setting foot in a gym.
But then, something happened, and I needed to find a way to channel my nervous energy.
I’m sure the people in my former life would marvel at the fact that I spend my free time running and avoiding all the vices that led me into the darkest time of my life.
But my body has well and truly thanked me for it, although that was never my motivation.
Blessed with good genes, my outward appearance has been something I’d long taken for granted, with a slender build, which has since become lean, with toned muscles from years of pounding the pavement, green eyes that apparently have flecks of gold in the right light, and creamy skin that barely freckles, despite being a redhead.
However, my inner self? Her, I’d gladly change.
I’ve often wondered how anyone could love me. Since my teen years, I’ve become jaded and guarded with my emotions, finding it hard to let people see the real me. But, once upon a time, someone perfect did love me. Someone I left behind seven years ago and that I’ve thought about every day since .
So running has become my escape from the demons of my past. Sometimes I’m successful. But not always.
My feet pound along the well-worn path as I take my usual circuit through the neighbourhood on autopilot while I listen to my latest audiobook.
Reading has long been an escape for me, even before the experiences that made my reality so hard to deal with.
Becoming lost in the trials and tribulations of others is the perfect distraction from my own existence.
I’ve only recently discovered audio-books, having been a bit of a physical book snob for so many years.
But once I listened to my first one and realised it was the perfect way to get more books in while I was running, I became a convert.
Although, when it gets to the spicy scenes, it often just serves as a reminder of how much sex I am not having.
Not that I plan on stopping. Hell, maybe it’ll help me find my own words when I get back.
It’s been years since I’ve slept with anyone.
Not since a drunken mistake my first few months in London, where I’d sought solace with a stranger in a pub bathroom that left me feeling empty and more alone than ever before.
The memories of the man I’d left behind had sent me into a spiral that had taken me months to emerge from.
The current scene where the main character is getting absolutely railed by her mafia boss love interest definitely isn’t helping my current sexual frustration, and I begin to question my choice to listen to this particular book right now.
When Lara, the doe eyed innocent heroine, stumbles across her boss, the ruggedly handsome and far too broody Charles, pleasuring himself in the bathroom of his sex club, I find myself growing far too distracted.
And when she falls to her knees in front of him and lets him go to pound town on her mouth…
Well, I’m pretty sure that’s the reason I’m a lot more hot and bothered than usual this early in my run.
I’m so distracted by the goings on in my ear buds that it takes me a moment to notice when a car pulls up beside me. Startled, I stop and pull them out of my ears when the driver hops out, yelling my name and waving her arms.
I’ve not seen her in seven years, but she looks almost exactly the same. With her long blonde hair pulled back into a messy bun, her perfectly made-up face practically glows when she smiles at me.
“Annelise Richards?! Is that really you?!”
I stare, openmouthed, as my high school best friend, Morgan, runs over and throws her arms around me.
“Um, hi.” I hug her back automatically, my brain reeling as blind panic sets in.
For the month I’ve been back in Brisbane, I’ve avoided everyone from my former life, swearing Tara to absolute secrecy about my return. She’s still close to everyone, but I lost that right seven years ago, and it’s just better for everyone if I stay away.
“I didn’t realise you were back,” she says, stepping back to look at me.
She seems so happy to see me, and yet I can’t for the life of me fathom why. Not after the way I’d left. While she had reached out to me on social media a few years ago, we’d only messaged a little, as I rarely go online, preferring to leave that side of my author business to my personal assistant.
I try to steady my breathing, pretty sure it’s not exertion making my heart race right now.
“Yeah… I’m staying at Mum’s while she’s travelling.” I nod back towards where I’ve come from.
Morgan grins. “That’s so exciting! Chris and I live nearby. With the girls, of course.” She waves her hand towards her car.
I look over and notice the two car seats in the back, spying a little blonde head poking over the top of one of them and assume the baby is in the one facing backwards. “I still can’t believe you have two kids.”
Morgan gives me a bit of a wry smile. “Well, it has been seven years… A lot can happen in that time.” I can hear the accusation in he r voice. I open my mouth to respond, but she continues. “What are you doing tomorrow night? We’re having a get together for my birthday, you should come.”
If I wasn’t already feeling guilty, the fact that I’d forgotten it was Morgan’s birthday next week definitely reminds me how shit of a friend I’ve been. I’d stopped keeping track of everyone’s birthdays a long time ago.
“Um, nothing… I wouldn’t want to intrude though. I’m sure I’m not the most popular person amongst the old crowd.” I reach up to touch my hair, before letting my hand drop back to my side.
I wish I hadn’t pulled my hair back. I really want to run my hands through it, now that my anxiety has kicked in.
“Honestly, no one even thinks about all that anymore. You’ll be fine.” Morgan waves my concerns aside, but I can tell her words aren’t entirely truthful.
“What about Will though? Isn’t he going to be there? I don’t think he would want to see me.” Saying his name out loud feels strange.
I’ve avoided it for so long, and yet, his face is tattooed into my mind.
“He isn’t coming tomorrow, he’s away at the moment, I think.
Pretty sure he told Chris he was going to be away, anyway.
But I know he said he couldn’t make it. So, you won’t have to worry about running into him.
” She pauses while she studies my face. “Please come… I’ve really missed you, and I’d love for you to spend some time with the girls.
It still feels wrong to me that they haven’t met you. ”
I can feel the guilt set in, and despite my better judgement, after another moment of hesitation, I nod slowly. “Ok. Of course, I’ll come.”
We exchange numbers, and Morgan texts me her address before a little voice yells out from the backseat and forces Morgan to get moving again.
“Sorry, we’re on our way to swimming lessons, but I’ll see you tomorrow and we can have a proper catch up, okay?” She waves goodbye and hops back in the car.
I wave goodbye and stay there for a little longer, still trying to process everything that had just happened.
Looks like 5 km won’t be long enough after all.