Chapter 17

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To say Jodie was shocked by my sudden arrival on Valentine's Day, ashen faced and looking like I'd seen more than one ghost, was a gross understatement. Anticipating my arrival, she already had a pot of tea brewing along with a packet of chocolate biscuits, which she declared an essential therapy tool. I wasn't in much of a mood to argue, inhaling half of them while I offloaded the details of the evening. As usual, Jodie didn't interrupt me, she sat patiently listening, whilst hugging her mug, occasionally wincing at some of the details I shared about dinner with Tristan. She then held me tightly as I sobbed uncontrollably whilst recounting the flashback. I was trapped between the fear of knowing a little bit more of what happened, and overwhelming frustration because it wasn't enough detail to be able to do a damned thing about. The whole evening had gone completely to shit, leaving me with nothing but a cold sense of dread at what might be coming next. Her hushed words of reassurance that it would come back to me, and how every new thing remembered was a step in the right direction, warmed the corners of my soul. Those earlier feelings of fear and anger slowly melting, leaving in their wake the faint shred of hope to cling to once again.

Regarding me carefully while she nibbled on another biscuit, Jodie asked, "So what are you going to do now Holls?"

"End it with him." I answered flatly. Just because I was going to break things off, didn't mean I felt good at the prospect of hurting him.

"Are you absolutely sure?" she challenged, regarding me carefully with an arched eyebrow.

"It's for the best. I just don't think I'm cut out for being in a relationship." I shrugged, glancing down at my lap where my hands clasped a now cold mug of tea.

"While it's good to know where your head's at." She nodded in acceptance of my certainty, then threw me a curveball, "That wasn't actually what I was talking about. I meant the flashback."

Gripping the mug even tighter, I sighed, "Nothing I can do at the moment, it was just flickers of that night."

"It will come back Holls. This is happening more frequently, it's just a matter of time." Her certainty was heartening. I knew her words held truth, I just had to bide my time and not over-analyse to the point of insanity. It was getting easier, but occasionally a tiny detail would gnaw away, dominating every other thought, rendering me incapable of focussing on anything else.

Once we'd finished raking over the whole mess, I was beyond exhausted. I knew I'd need to head back to Notting Hill, but Jodie was dead against me getting the night bus or a cab at such a late hour, especially if there was a risk Tristan might be waiting for me when I returned. Weirdly, the anxiety I'd felt over being in my former home was nowhere in sight. It was quickly cleared with the night manager for me to crash in Jodie's room on the fold up bed they kept in storage for emergencies. Taking my phone out of my clutch bag, I discovered he'd been blowing up my phone with calls and texts. It only served to cement my choice to end things. Ignoring them, I fired off a short text to Constance letting her know where I was and that I wouldn't be back until the following morning, I shut the phone off and fell into a restless slumber.

Images from the night of my accident punctuated my sleep, the words of the man tormenting me, ringing loud and clear.

"Let's have a little fun, shall we?" His ragged voice echoed. Struggling against his weight, a single word slipped from terrified lips with enough volume to leave no room for confusion. "No!"

"I wouldn't fight me if I were you." Stone cold intimidation and submission was his end game. Clammy hands shift to restrain and silence, undeterred by resistance, desperately seeking purchase as I struggle to break free.

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