Chapter 4 The Falsehoods We Tell Ourselves

Three seventeen a.m. was the time on the bedside clock.

Sarah found it impossible to sleep.

Alex had gone off near her, his hand loosely resting across her waist. His breath was regular, even calming.

Her brain was racing, though.

Her ears echoed his earlier remarks. "I was not expected to be in that pub."

What would that imply? Was he running? Hiding? From what? Or perhaps something even worse: from whence?

She insisted to herself that it didn't matter. That was only one night. No guarantees. None at all. None for the future.

That had been the arrangement.

But here she was, memorizing in the dark the form of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the sound of his laugh. She was breaking the rules already.

She got out of bed with a soft sigh, being conscious not to rouse him.

As she entered the little kitchen, her feet padded over the hardwood surface. The flat was vintage and attractive; the fridge hummed and the floors creaked. She found some tea upon opening a cabinet. She prepared tea every time her heart was restless. Still in the midst of the night.

On the burner, the kettle let out a soft hiss.

"Wouldn't sleep?"

She sprang.

Shirtless, hair wild, eyes drowsy but aware, Alex waited in the doorway.

She chuckled nervously and remarked, "You frightened me."

Watching her, he rested on the doorframe.

"You vanished. Thought perhaps you were trying to leave quietly."

Sarah arched an eyebrow. "And what if I was?"

Alex let out a little shrug. "I would ask if I might accompany you."

Her laugh, the sound soft in the still room, created a will.

There was conflict, though beneath it. Unasked inquiries. Silent alarms.

She handed him a cup after pouring the tea.

Their knees touching, they sat quietly on the little couch, silence stretched far between them.

He said abruptly, "You know, you don't owe me anything."

Sarah stared at him in bewilderment.

He said, "You looked scared when I told you I stayed in the city. You need not, though, to be concerned. I am not risky."

Her heart sank at the very fact he felt he had to say it.

She inquired, her tone subdued, if he was running from someone.

Alex did not immediately respond. He gazed into his tea as though it held secrets.

He said at last, "I made mistakes. I got entangled with the wrong crowd. Nothing hostile; just... attitude. I was meant to tidy everything up. Please leave. Begin anew."

Sarah inquired, "So why not?"

He turned to face her, eyes weighted with significance.

"Then I saw you, therefore."

She gasped not for a second. His words hung around her breast like a vice.

She murmured, "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Make this more than it is."

Alex placed his tea down. He answered just, too late.

Sarah stood up, heart thumping.

This was not how it was ideally supposed to go. She was meant to be in charge. But here he was, every sincere word tearing down her barriers.

She said, not glancing at him, "Perhaps we should sleep."

Alex said nothing in argument. He trailed her back to the bedroom, murmuring like a second skin.

She covered herself under the blankets. He was near but not touching her, beside her.

But she felt his fingertips find hers once more just as her eyes began to close.

She did not distance herself this time.

And then, just before sleep took her, a whisper came in the still darkness.

What if this night turns out to be a turning point?

She did not yet know-

That it already had.