Page 122 of Catch You

“Knock yourself out.”

Relief floods me that I’m going to be able to take the edge off the conversation that’s about to happen.

I pour myself a glass and down the lot in one before repeating the action with a second.

“Come and sit down, please?” I can’t cope with her hovering nervously as if she’s about to bolt.

She hesitates but eventually joins me on the other end of the sofa.

“Losing my boys and the drama with my family weren’t the only reasons I needed to escape my old life.” I pause, preparing to lay it all out for her. “Carla and I had been friends all our lives. Our fathers served together, and we ended up in the same boarding school while our parents were elsewhere.

“We both partied pretty hard in our younger years, along with everyone else around us. Most of us were army brats with parents all around the world. We thought we were invincible.

“I was never interested in Carla in that way—she was just my friend. But one night we got really drunk and ended up kissing. One thing led to another, and …”

“You got her pregnant?” Harlow guesses.

Unable to hold her eyes, I stare down at my hands. “We were only fifteen. We were so young and naive. She stayed in school as long as she could before she left and had our daughter.” Harlow gasps, but I don’t focus on her. I can’t, or I’ll stop and never get the words out.

“I enlisted the second I finished school. I didn’t have any choice, thanks to my father, but I promised her that I’d support her in any way I could. I had a responsibility to our daughter, and I fully intended on being there for her, although we both agreed nothing would happen between the two of us.

“I joined the army, and she stayed home to bring up … our baby,” I say, unable to even mention her name. “I’d see them both as often as I could, but I got swallowed up into squaddie life, and … I was young,” I sigh, regretting not being a better father. A better friend.

“Things were … fine. L-Layla was growing up faster than I’d ever thought possible. She started school, all that stuff. I missed most of it because I was away, and I hated having to see it all in photographs.

“When I was discharged, I told myself that it was my chance to make things right. To be the father she needed and deserved.

“I hadn’t seen either of them for quite some time, and when I got back from rehab, I barely recognized Carla. She was a mess. I’d been sending them money every month, but I had no idea it was all going directly to her dealer. I had no clue that she’d spiraled out of control.

“Anyway, once I got myself sorted and Zach gave me a chance at the studio, I swore to myself that I’d get a place of my own and go for custody. I might not have had a clue about how to bring up a child, but I was damn sure I could do a hell of a better job than Carla.”

My eyes remain on my hands as I fiddle with my fingers, attempting to stop them trembling.

I pause, taking a moment before I continue.

“I started proceedings with a lawyer, and they agreed that I’d have a solid chance of winning. Only, we never got that far.” My voice cracks, and Harlow slides across the sofa until she’s holding my hands and her huge, dark eyes are staring into mine.

“A couple of nights before the court case, I was trying to sleep when I got a call. There had been a fire at Carla’s flat and … I could tell by the voice on the other end of the phone that it was bad.

“I raced over there.” I pause as the images of that fateful night fill my mind. Harlow squeezes my hands and slides even closer. I desperately want to look at her again, but I fear that if I do, I’ll break down and put off saying any more.

“Flames billowed from the windows; smoke poured into the night sky. It was terrifying. The firemen did everything they could, but the blaze was too hot for them to get into the flat.

“By the time they got inside, it was too l-late. She was only eight. She had her whole life ahead of her.”

“Oh my God.” Her voice is full of emotion as she crawls onto my lap and wraps her arms around my shoulders.

“It had barely been a year since I lost my boys, and then that happened.” My body trembles as I’m taken back to that night. I was useless, utterly useless. After all my military training, when it mattered, all I could do was stand there and watch my world burn.

Lacing my arms around her waist, I hold her to me, and I will the images to subside. I know it’s wishful thinking—they’re always there, just waiting to pop up, usually in my sleep, and threaten to break me all over again.

“I’m so sorry, Corey. I’m so sorry,” she whispers softly in my ear before she presses her lips to my neck and starts gently kissing me.

Once I’m feeling a little more in control of myself. I wrap my hands around her forearms and push her back so I can look at her.

She has black makeup streaked down her face where she’s been crying with me.

She reaches out and brushes her thumbs over my cheeks, clearing away my own tears.

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