The Year of Starting Over: A feel-good novel about second chances and finding yourself by Karen King

Author:Karen King
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781786818096
Publisher: Bookouture

Then she finished her drink and waited for a terse ‘I’m quite capable of looking after myself’ reply.

None came.

Should she phone him? Go and check? It was almost eleven thirty. He was probably asleep in bed and wouldn’t be very happy if she walked in. No, she should leave it. Ignoring her screaming ‘care assistant’ instincts, she finished her drink and went to bed too.

* * *

She woke the next morning to sunlight streaming through the gaps in the blinds and no text from Matias. She sent him a ‘good morning’ text, asking how he was.

No reply.

She had a shower and pulled on cut-off denim shorts and a white vest then checked her phone. Still no reply. She was starting to feel a little panicky. What if Matias had fallen? He could have been lying there all night. Or if he’d gone into a coma… After all, that’s what the doctor was worried about. She had to go and check.

She shoved her phone in her pocket, took Matias’s house keys out of her bag and set off to check. There was no sign of life and no sound from Luna. She opened the gates and ran down the drive to the back of the house, then knocked on the door. ‘Matias!’

She peered through the glass. Suddenly she heard Luna yap. She could just about make out the shape of the little Shih Tzu, but nothing else.

‘Matias! Are you okay?’ she shouted again.

No answer. She had to go in.

Her hand was shaking as she unlocked the door, wondering what she would find. She should have called around last night. What if Matias was lying injured, had been lying injured all night? She’d never forgive herself if anything had happened to him…

She raced across the kitchen, opened the door and stepped out into the hall. Which way should she go? She had no idea which rooms the doors led to. She raced along the corridor. ‘Mati!’

She stopped and turned as a door opened on her right and Matias peered out, a towel wrapped around his waist, the bandage now off his arm and his bare torso wet. He’d obviously been in the shower, or bath. She gulped, wanting to throw her arms around him with relief that he was safe but feeling more than a bit awkward that she’d let herself into his house when he’d been showering – or bathing, whatever – and was minutes away from walking in on him naked.

Don’t even think about that.

‘What is it?’ he snapped, obviously annoyed. ‘What are you doing here?’

She swallowed, feeling suddenly awkward at the irritation in his tawny eyes, and she lowered her own eyes then wished she hadn’t as they were now resting on the mass of damp dark hair on his chest, and now, as if of their own free will, they were going lower to the blue and white towel wrapped loosely around his hips…

She snapped her eyes back up to his face. ‘I was worried. You didn’t reply to my message last night.

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