CHAPTER 64

He laughs softly at my terse tone. “Sure thing, summer Sarah. I’ll call back soon.”

I think he waits for me to respond, but the new onslaught of tears from his calling me Summer Sarah strangles my power of speech.

“Bye,” I rasp and end the call.

****

William's POV

Sarah’s apartment. I never expected to come here again. Ever. A powdering of snow on the ground adds a festive feel to a horrible situation. I’m alone. Emma offered to come, but this is something I need to do on my own.

Jim drops me at that e-gate and then speeds away in the black Audi. Leaving my car outside and indicating to the world I’m with Sarah won’t help my cause. I shift my leather jacket closer around myself and head up the path, combat boots leaving outlines in the new snow.

Sarah buzzes the intercom, opening the door to the building entrance and I climb the stairs to her flat, apprehension flowing through.

I fucked up the chance of a relationship with Sarah by walking away in the summer instead of explaining. I understand that, but if Sarah can listen and not hate me, maybe I can move on. I don’t know.

Sarah opens the door and drags the breath from my lungs. Beautiful, real, amazing Sarah stands with her hand on the edge of the doorframe, blue eyes wide. A single thought careens into my head: I love her.

Her soft hair hangs in waves, reaching lower across her shoulders than a few months ago, but everything else about her is the same. Sarah’s strawberry scent reaches me, and I battle with the automatic need to bury my face into her hair and whisper how much I fucking missed her.

Sarah tries to hide how she feels, but I know what she’s thinking. I’m not the same man she met in the summer. I don’t even look like him anymore.

“William…” Sarah’s hand goes to her mouth and the blue eyes widen further.

I shift my jacket across my shoulders, confused by her reaction. “Hey, Sarah.”

She blinks away whatever she’s thinking and smiles. “Hey.”

Resisting the urge to take her in my arms and lose myself in the past, I step into the room as she widens the door. Sarah positions herself, so I don’t stray too close as I walk inside.

The flat doesn’t look any different either, apart from a small, fake Christmas tree, hung with baubles, in a corner near the front window. Still a hole, and still not the place I want her to live.

“Do you want a drink?” she asks.

“Whatever you’re having.”

“A huge glass of wine,” she mutters, then says, “Coffee?”

“A huge glass of wine sounds good, but I’ll go with a coffee.”

Sarah pauses then tips her head. “Wine it is.”

I perch on the blue sofa, rubbing my palms together as I wait for her to return. Sarah tidied some of her mess of books and papers into piles on the coffee table and there was a lack of empty cups around.

“How were the States?” Sarah returns and passes me a goldfish bowl-sized glass of wine before sitting opposite her.

“Shit.” I gulp from the glass.

“I can see. I’m surprised you went,” she remarks.

“I look that bad, huh?”

“Yes, William. You do.” A shadow of concern passes her face.

“I like that you’re always honest.”

She gives me an odd look. “I’d like you to be honest.”

Well, I guess the formalities are over with. “You want to get straight into this?”

“Yes. I’ve waited a long time for your explanation.”

One thing about Sarah, you always know where you are with her; I doubt she’d ever play games.

“Sorry, I left without explaining.”

“You did what you had to, but it hurt, William. A lot.”

“Sorry.” I grapple with other words of explanation as to why I left, but I can’t get them out. The situation strangles me because I’m terrified this is the last time I’ll ever see her. “I fucked up.”

Sarah shakes her head slightly and she looks at the floor. In a way, I’m glad, because if I see tears in her eyes it’ll kill me. “Just give me your explanation, William. If telling me helps you move on, that’s a good thing for you.”

Move on? The gnawing pain creeps into my chest again.

Okay.

“Do you think I did what Berky says?” I ask.

“Did you?” she shoots back.

Four months. Four months for us to have a frank conversation about something, I couldn’t explain because the truth seemed worse.

Sarah’s eyes remain fixed on the threadbare brown carpet and the sound of a car passes outside. The words. They have to come; I have to vocalize and get this shit out of my head.

“I had sex with Berky, yes. But it wasn’t rape. What sort of man do you think I am? I’m not sure how you could think that of me?”

Sarah’s head snaps back and teary eyes meet mine. “I knew you for three weeks, William. So, I hardly knew you. I imagine date rape is a risk in your… industry.”

I rest my elbows on my knees and rub my hands through my hair, through curls that weren’t there the last time I saw Sarah.

Telling Sarah the story doesn’t matter, whatever she thinks will make no difference; I lost her months ago.

* * *

Sarah's POV

William’s appearance shatters one defense. His pale face accentuates the dark circles beneath his ocean-blue eyes, and there’s no William spark or color around him—even his tattoos are hidden beneath his leather jacket and shirt.

In the summer, I wanted to help him. Now I fight the desire to wrap my arms around his tall figure and to be held against the lines of the muscles still apparent under his clothes.

I can see why I'm worried about him.

A muscle twitches in his gaunter cheek as I say the word rape, and I’m annoyed with William’s vulnerability drawing me to him.

“What happened wasn’t date rape,” he says holding my gaze.

William looks at my hands and when I realize they’re trembling I sit on them. “What happened then?”

He deflects the question in his William way. “One of the reasons I didn’t try to explain in July is because I feel as if I am responsible, and deserve the blame. I couldn’t bear for you to look at me with the same disgust I have for myself.

I wanted to keep the memory of Sarah who looked at me as if I meant something.”

“Why tell me now?”

“Because I thought walking away would make things easier. But for the first time in my life, leaving didn’t help.

Walking away from you isn’t an option, Sarah. Instead of hiding, I need to tell you the truth. If there’s the smallest chance you’ll listen and forgive me, then the risk is worth trying.”

With each word, the anxiety over what he’s about to tell me increases. I’ve been through a million scenarios in my head the last few months, and the one I settled on was William not accepting ‘no’ from a group.

“Tell me the story, William.”

William flicks his fingers against his teeth and inhales, closing his eyes. “I’ll tell you. Believe what you want, but this is the truth. And I don’t think I’ll come out of the story a much better person than if I had assaulted Berky.”

“I doubt that,” I say coldly.