Martha Fletcher has only ever had one job- Executive Assistant to Sam Courtenay.
She'll schedule his diary, pick up his dry cleaning, usher girls out of his apartment first thing in the morning... nothing was out of bounds until one night, that blur...
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There's no fast or hard rule getting over a breakup. Should you wallow in sadness or should you get up, dust yourself off and get back out there? Do you let everyone see that you're heartbroken or do you plaster on a fake smile and let them all think that you're ok? Would you sit at home, eat lots of chocolate and ice cream or head down to the gym and work out until you're about to collapse on the floor?
There's no right way and wrong way to deal with it all, there's only your way and my particular way of coping is by running away.
Since I left the house and Martha behind, I've been running away from everyone. Martha's called, text, left messages for me but I cannot bring myself to speak with her or hear her voice. It's too raw to allow myself that luxury. Evie's been hounding me, demanding that I tell her where I am and asking when I'll be back. She's heard what's happened and isn't impressed at all with the fact that I've fired Martha. Apparently, it wasn't my call to do that. Of course, Sophie and Dan have had their say over my breakup and to my surprise, it was Sophie who was the most understanding. Dan shouted expletives down the line while Sophie's concerned voice begged me to let her come to me. Gran was also very worried about my state of mind. She thinks I'm having a breakdown and that's why I broke up with Martha.
Keira and Logan have each reached out. Logan was typically nice and said that he'd be there for me whenever I decided that I wanted to talk about things. Keira just left me a voicemail, detailing all the ways she was going to maim and torture me before storming into a long list of creative ways to kill me. I was expecting Keira's outburst and to a certain extent I was prepared for it but when she threatened to gouge out my brain with a spoon, via my nose, Egyptian style, I was disturbed.
However, in the absence of Martha's father and Charlotte- both of whom I'm sure will fetch their pitchforks and hound me out of town once they know what's happened- it was Michael that I was most worried about. He wasn't my biggest fan when Martha and I were together and never made a secret of the fact that he was certain that I would hurt her and now, I've proved him right. Being the big brother to four sisters, Michael is naturally a very protective person and with Martha, he's practically a second dad to her and would surely grab a pitchfork and a spoon, ready to join in with the Let's Kill Sam Brigade.
"I made a promise to Lyanna that you'd still be alive once I leave here," Michael said, barging into the hotel room that I was currently staying at. Dumbfounded by how he knew where to find me, I stand in the doorway and just stare at him, waiting for him to speak. Turning while standing in the middle of the living area of the suite, Michael gives me a pitying look. It takes me by surprise. He sighs heavily. "She's leaving."
I shake my head in confusion. "Who's leaving?"
"Martha, you dumb fuck," Michael roars. He's not angry with me; he's annoyed and he's frustrated but he's not angry. Or if he is, he's keeping it well hidden in an effort not to break his promise to his girlfriend. I watch as his fists ball at his side. His voice rises. "She's going to Los Angeles with that arsehole that used to be married to my sister and you're here. Are you seriously going to let her leave? Fuck me, Sam, I thought you had more sense than that. She's miserable without you and from the looks of it, you're not faring better, either."
