My lips touch his again and it's a lot more rough. I know we both need this, we both crave the others touch. It's intoxicating. He pushes the straps of my dress down to my hips and he reaches out and palms my breasts in both his hands.
A small moan...
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The office was quieter than usual, save for the occasional hum of the printer and the rhythmic clacking of my keyboard. My phone was propped between my shoulder and ear, Laura's voice filling the empty space around me.
"So, how is he?" she asked, her tone cautious but curious.
I sighed, pausing my typing. "He's better," I said truthfully, swivelling in my chair to look out the window. The city buzzed below, people rushing around like they always did. "He's got a long way to go, but I can see the change, you know? He's clearer. Like... he's really trying to get better."
"That's great," Laura replied, the relief in her voice palpable. "I know how much you've been worried about him. It sounds like he's turning a corner."
"I hope so," I said, twirling a pen between my fingers. "He talks about Aiden more now. It's still hard for him, but at least he's not bottling it up anymore. He even mentioned Charlie last time I visited. I think he's ready to reach out."
"That's huge," Laura said. "Charlie was always like a second brother to him."
I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. "Yeah. I just... I want him to have that support again. I think it could really help."
"Of course," she agreed, her voice softening. "And what about you? How are you holding up?"
Before I could answer, a knock at the door interrupted me. I glanced up, and my heart sank. Standing in the doorway, dressed impeccably as always, was Mrs. Rickson. Jacob's mum.
"I'll have to call you back," I said hurriedly, ending the call before Laura could respond.
"Mrs. Rickson," I greeted, standing up from my desk. My voice was polite, but my chest tightened. She has never visited me before, but this cannot be good news. Especially after our last conversation.
"Aria," she said coolly, stepping inside. Her heels clicked against the polished floor as she approached. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"Not at all," I lied, motioning for her to sit. She didn't.
Her gaze swept the office, taking in every detail before landing back on me. "I assume you know why I'm here."
I swallowed hard, already bracing myself. "If it's about Jacob—"
"Of course, it's about Jacob," she snapped, her tone sharp. "You've been visiting him at the rehab centre. Spending time with him. Why?"
The accusation in her voice caught me off guard, but I held my ground. "Because I am his girlfriend. Because I care about him," I said firmly. "I want to support him."
Her eyes narrowed. "Support him? That's rich coming from you. Where was that support when my son was falling apart? When Aiden died?"
Her words hit like a punch to the gut, but I refused to let her see it. "I was not aware of Aiden's death when I..." My voice was quiet. "I tried. I did everything I could to be enough for him, but I wasn't then. I am now."
