Page 38 of The Way We Fell

I let myself in through the heavy doors of another imposing building. My footsteps echo around the dim corridor, bouncing off every hard magnolia wall, dark wood floor and high ceiling. Old, faded paper notices hang from the walls, held firm with discoloured strips of tape.

I glance up at a sign above the double-doorway, and then keep going.It’s down here somewhere.Left at the vending machine. Left again at the library sign. Right at the big potted plant. There, in the corner of the building’s south wing, is an unassuming door markedadmissions office. I step up to it and take a deep breath. Then, I rap my knuckles three times against the wood.

“Are yousureyou won’t talk to someone?”

We’ve given up on Flights and Fancies for another week, choosing instead to order another pizza and have lunch at home. This time, we’re at Jay’s studio flat. It’s decorated in monochrome, plenty of grey and black giving it that sophisticated, masculine feel, whilst at the same time being cold, clinical, and impersonal. There aren’t many personal artifacts in here at all. In fact, other than one or two family photographs from long-ago holidays, and a group photograph of his regiment crouched in front of a large, grey plane before shipping out somewhere, I haven’t seen a single personal touch.

I sit on my hands to prevent myself from pulling at a small tuft of thread in the sofa cushion. I know I’m being pushy, and I know I’m walking a dangerously fine line between pushing enough and pushing too much.

“I talk to you.”

“Not what I mean, Jay. You know that. You know you can talk to me about anything, any time, but—” I pause, pressing my fingertips into the bridge of my nose. “I really think it would be good for you to talk to someone else, too.”

“Katy, I don’t need a shrink.”

“No, you don’t,” I agree. “But maybe some counselling would help?”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No, it’s not.” I sit forward on the sofa. It’s grey, like everything else in here. “Counselling is just talking. About what worries you. What bothers you. What wakes you up eating at you in the middle of the night. What you see when you close your eyes. All of that stuff.”

“So, a shrink, then.”

I sigh heavily.

“He’s not a shrink. Here’s a number.” I lay the card on Jay’s thigh. I’ve never been more certain of anything than I am of this: Jay needs this man’s help. And however worried I am that I might be pushing him too hard, I’m more worried about what might happen if I don’t. “This guy has been in Iraq. He knows what it’s like. And he knows some things that might help you cope. Or even just to process what you’ve seen. You’re not okay, Jay. And it’s killing me to watch you killing yourself like this.”

I don’t mean to, but my voice breaks as a tear slips down my cheek. I hear Jay mumble a curse beside me as he sits forward, gripping my chin in a big hand and wiping the tear with the pad of his thumb.

“I’ll call him, Princess. I promise. I’ll call him… for you. I’ll do it for you.”

“Don’t do it for me, love. Do it foryou.”

Chapter eighteen

Jay

MaybeKaty’sright.Maybewhat I need is to speak to someone—for me. I squeeze my fingers into a fist inside the enormous glove and launch myself at the swinging bag. Without being able to pound the pavement the way I used to, boxing has become my exercise of choice. It helps me get back some of the strength and stamina I used to have, and it improves the cardio fitness I’ve lost over the last few months. I can do it without too much impact on my legs, too, and as a bonus, it’s a great way to work out the day’s frustrations.

It doesn’t stop me from thinking about her, though. Her silky blonde hair, her bottomless brown eyes, her plump, pink-painted lips, and the way they always turn up in the prettiest smile when she sees me. She’s stubborn as hell, but even when her eyes narrow in that way that tells me I’m being a prick, she’s beautiful, inside and out. It’s not even just her body anymore, it’s her heart, too. She’s digging herself deeper and deeper into my mind and soul, and I’m just a passenger, along for the ride. I’m powerless to stop her at this point. She’s everything I can’t have, and maybe that makes her even more enticing.

Do I want her because I can’t have her, or do I want her because she’sKaty?

I launch another attack at the bag, pivoting on the ball of my right foot and crashing into it with my left. My right leg twinges as it takes all my weight, and I stumble out of the kick, grappling blindly at the bag for balance. Karma for letting my mind wander to forbidden fruit, I suppose.

“Whoa, buddy, I’ve got you.” A deep voice accompanies a large hand on my upper arm, and another hand grabs my waist, steadying me. “You got a license for that move?”

“Bum leg,” I explain bitterly. “Thought I could handle it. Apparently, I can’t.”

“Well, take it easy, yeah? I don’t need you breaking yourself in my gym.”

“Yeah,” I agree distantly. “I’m good.”

He leaves me after a moment, and I lean forward, fists on my thighs. My heart is racing and I’m drenched in sweat. Once my breathing starts to slow, I limp back to the locker room and pull my shower kit from my gym bag before finding an empty shower stall and stripping down.

I’m on my way out of the gym when the man from earlier calls me over. He’s on a bench by the door, a folder of paperwork in his hand and a pen behind his ear.

“What’s your story, bud?”

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