Let Me Be Your Hope (Music and Letters Series Book 2) by Lynsey M. Stewart

Author:Lynsey M. Stewart [Stewart, Lynsey M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-08-21T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Abi

Now…

Almost two years after Jamie left.

After my encounter in the kitchen with Jamie, still unable to believe he was my new manager, I left the office in a flurry of upset to the sound of slamming doors. I had nowhere to be except there—the embankment.

The embankment provided still, calm waters to cleanse away the bad thoughts that had perished the good. This place held memories for all of us. It had captured conversations in the sweeping wind and pounding rain. The searing summer heat had grasped our laughter, and the first flurries of winter snow had caressed our tears. I’d been going there for years. Every emotion had been on display in the beautiful gardens, the steps on the riverbank, under the bandstand, outside the café with the girls eating ice creams to cool ourselves down in the heat, or clutching soup in Styrofoam cups to warm ourselves up from the cold.

Elle and I would complete our coursework sitting on a tartan blanket eating crisps and laughing about Elle’s crush on her practice tutor. She would stroke my back as we sat by the water, encouraging me to talk through my sobs after Jamie left. Jamie lingered here too. Laughter, passion, care and love had turned into despair and desperation on my part, clinging on to him, deep hurt causing wounds that never seemed to heal or fade.

He’s here. He’s back. He’s going to be my manager and I’m going to throw myself in the water and hope it takes me away on the high tide.

I’d stared at him all morning. I’d taken in the small talk. I’d breathed in the scent of his skin that hadn’t changed since the last time I was close to him—standing on the train platform with my arms around his waist saying goodbye.

He was dressed in a suit with a red tartan Burberry scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. He had his own style; so cool and laid back, the opposite of the nervous energy I’d seen when he’d walked back into my life that morning. He’d always looked amazing, even when he’d pull on an old t-shirt taken from the washing basket because he hadn’t got round to doing the laundry. The scarf had tormented me with its closeness to his skin. I really didn’t want to think about what that meant for my mental health. Anyone else would look like they were being slowly strangled to death, but he looked like a model with a lifelong contract.

Christ alive. How was I going to survive this?

I sighed when I imagined booking the first available appointment with the well-being counsellor—a perk of the job that Jamie Dawson would have to approve. I laughed at the paradoxical mind fuck before opening my bag and inhaling a snack-sized oat flapjack.

I knew without doubt that this man had come into my life for a purpose. Remembering standing alone on that platform alone stuck to the same spot as I watched his train disappear into the distance, I didn’t think I would ever know what that purpose was.

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