Always and Only You

Chapter Seventy-Five

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

Present Day

I’m not expecting the journey to be a doddle, given my head injury and my current mental state, but it’s worse than I expect it to be. The train gets increasingly more crowded as we near London. There is a party of four on the table seats opposite me talking loudly, and behind me is a new mum with a tiny baby. My heart goes out to her, but that doesn’t mean that the constant screaming isn’t drilling into my brain, making me feel as if I want to join in.

I spend most of the journey failing to hold back the tears. Naomi had explained to me that emotional regulation might be tricky after an injury like mine, and I just can’t seem to get a grip of myself. I don’t know what to do. It feels as if there is a great gaping hole inside my chest, one that is raw and jagged, and I don’t know why. Gil isn’t anything to me. I thought he was, but he’s not. I shouldn’t care.

I curse my new, slightly more impulsive nature. I did what I would normally never do – I let my guard down. I learned early not to get my hopes up when it comes to other people. They always disappoint you. I should have known better.

When I get to Paddington, I wait until everybody in my carriage has disembarked before I move out of my seat. The long platform is a blessed relief after the noise and heat of the train carriage, but the concourse is packed. People everywhere. Noise, colour, light. I want to crouch down on the floor, cover my eyes and ears, and pretend I’m not there.

I glance at the entrance to the Underground station and almost have a panic attack. No. Not doing that. Not today.

Instead I grab my bags and limp to the taxi rank, where I grab the first available one and tell him my address. The fare will probably be equivalent to one month’s salary, but it’ll be worth every penny.

I cry all the way home in the back of the taxi, too. I feel so tired, so overstimulated. So betrayed.

When we turn into our road and I see the row of red brick Victorian terraced houses with their white-painted masonry, my tears of overwhelm turn to tears of joy. I’m disappointed Simon won’t be there, that he’ll be with Felipe and the guys, but I also know the flat will be quiet, cool and familiar. I can pull the blinds, climb into bed, and forget about the world, my own sheets around me, my own pillow under my head. At this moment I want nothing more. I almost wish I could climb back into that coma, except I’m scared of what my muddled brain would dream up for me next. I just want it all to go away. I want to switch my head off and let it do nothing for a bit.

I’m not sure how I manage to haul myself up the stairs. When I slide my key into the lock, my legs are shaking. All I can think about is dropping my cases and crawling into the bedroom.

But when I open the front door, I hear voices, not the silence I’m expecting. I freeze. My heart begins to pound.

Adrenaline surges through me, powering me down the hallway towards the living room. I stand in the doorway, frozen. ‘Simon?’

He’s lying on the couch in a T-shirt and boxers, a can in his hand. Hearing my voice, he jumps up, sloshing beer everywhere. ‘My God! Erin? What are you doing here?’

‘I could ask the same of you!’