Two lovers, torn apart by betrayal, obsession and an unquenchable thirst for revenge.
How far would you go for love?
About to start the career of his dreams and marry the woman he loves, Sebastien Merrow has everything he could ever want, until a b...
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Vera Noble paces back and forth in her living room. The air is thick and hot, despite the open windows, and the smell of frying oil and exhaust pipe coats every surface, making it hard to breathe. The light streaming in is bright and sharp, stabbing mercilessly at her eyes. Her apartment is small, practically a cupboard tucked into a collection of family homes, but it had never felt this claustrophobic before.
Her thoughts are so big, so oppressive, they take up almost all available space. They all press in on her, demanding her attention. The chaos of voices drifting up from the streets only adds to the chaos around her, pushing her closer and closer to screaming out in frustration.
The sound of running water stops. Vera's pacing stops in response. Sebastien would be done cleaning up soon. She has to get hold of herself quickly. She takes a deep breath and focuses on one single fact at a time. Sebastien Merrow was in her bathroom. Sebastien Merrow, the boy next door. Sebastien Merrow, the one who got away. Sebastien Merrow, the one who has been dead for ten years. Or, as it turns out, the one who has been in prison for ten years.
Vera groans, pinching the bridge of her nose to hold back the headache that is building. She is having a hard enough time processing the fact that Sebastien is not dead, without even considering the how and why. Why had someone tried to kill him? How did he survive? Why only escape now? How-?
The bathroom door clicks open, and Sebastien steps into the room. He looks different, she thinks, but that is an understatement. Fuck, even that is an understatement. Wearing her ex-boyfriend Bruno's gray sweatpants and faded SR-71 t-shirt, beard shaved, hair glistening, Sebastien is unrecognizable as the man that had burst into her office in a stained beige jumpsuit reeking of acrid smoke and charred flesh. That Sebastien had been nothing like the smiling young man in the photo adorning obituaries, or the youthfully innocent gazed boy she'd grown up with.
Seconds tick by before Vera becomes aware she is staring. "I'll make you a sandwich," she says, turning into the kitchen nook. Keeping her hands busy will help focus her mind, and stop her gawking at him like he's a zoo animal, at least.
"Thank you," Sebastien says, coming to stand against a cabinet. "I promise I'll be out of your hair as soon as I can." He lowers his gaze before continuing. "I don't want to cause you any more trouble."
"You're not going anywhere." Vera glances up at him with a bright smile, but Sebastien's face is turned away from her. Vera is dying to know why he is so ashamed to look at her. She dumps the sandwich on a plate, and then Sebastien on her couch. "You're going to eat. I'm going to dress those burns on your shoulder, and you're going to tell me everything." Vera places the plate on the coffee table and seats herself next to Sebastien. "And I mean everything."
And he does. As he eats, sitting in her tiny apartment in the stifling heat, Sebastien tells her everything. As he talks, it feels like no time has passed between them. It feels like they are right back in her backyard, perched on tree branches, talking about their hopes and dreams.
