Let Me Be Your Last (Music and Letters Series Book 4)

by Lynsey M. Stewart

  A woman like Gem didn’t walk into your life twice. She was a one-off. A limited edition. Flawless.

  Fuck.

  What was I doing?

  I had left her that morning feeling confused and maybe even a bit delirious. We had been up all night, and when I saw the bloke who was quite obviously her ex-husband, I decided that I must have been hallucinating. Sleep deprivation was causing me to go What the fuck? as he bounded up like a sheepdog, rounding up his herd. I knew better. I knew the bastard preferred lording it in his restaurant than being a dad to Gem’s kids. Shit, the alcohol was talking. I wasn’t normally such a judgmental fuck. I didn’t normally drink until I couldn’t remember my last name, but as the days went on, it seemed a logical way to spend the time. In a blur. Unable to think.

  I started ordering a curry when another message popped up.

  Gem: I’m starting to get pissed off now

  There she was. Hard as nails against me, the gibbering idiot.

  I had been so tempted to reply. I was so close to typing: Is Jay who you really want? What happened to us? Did the night mean nothing to you? But every time I typed it out, I thought of those kids and how they needed both of their parents in their lives. I didn’t want to stand in the way of that. I also didn’t need more evidence to know that they hadn’t experienced a clean break. The guy had let himself in with a fucking key like it was still his rightful place to be. Plus there was the small issue of them having two kids together under the age of eight. The mathematician in me made me realise that none of that added up to a clean break.

  I pulled the top off a bottle of beer and tried to drown out the noises. Moments replayed themselves: her cute laugh when she was nervous, the amount of food she could eat without an ounce of fucks given, the way she shone when she spoke about her children, and her legs in that shorty whatever it was that she was wearing so well on Saturday night.

  I took a long, hard glug of beer. This week had been the worst week in the history of worst weeks. Not only was I thinking about her every minute of every day and hating myself for being such a spineless bastard by ignoring her messages and not having the balls to ask her directly if she wanted to choose him or me, I was also contacted by my agency telling me my time was up at my current school. I really liked it there but the school had to make cutbacks, but paying an agency member of staff didn’t fall into their budget. I was waiting to hear from the agency about a possible job in a primary school after the half term. There were no other details given apart from a teacher was on long-term sick and they needed someone to start on Monday. Another reason to forget Gem and just get on with my life. I would be up to my neck in SATS and lesson plans, learning the names and ways of a new class full of thirty kids, trying to settle into the staff team, and ignoring full body tiredness when working late into the night to prepare for the next term. We had enough obstacles in our way without adding my responsibilities to it.

  I’d made up my mind, so why did I still feel like shit?

  We should both be there, Jay. You and me, together as their parents. A unit. Not just me!

  Ah, yes. That was why I still felt like shit. She wanted him. After everything she had said, she still wanted him. I took another mouthful of beer hoping for drunk oblivion to hurry the fuck up.

  Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rattled through my brain and woke me with a jolt. I sat up, stretching my back in the hope that I could actually stand after falling asleep on the sofa. My head took a moment to catch up with my body as I went to the door and put the box full of food I was unlikely to eat on the kitchen worktop. The smell of curry hit my senses and I felt the sharp need to gag. I didn’t give into it. I took another bottle from the fridge and downed half of it over the sink in case I needed to get it out of my body just as quickly as I’d put it in there.

  After filling my plate, grabbing another beer and pulling my iPad from underneath a cushion, I logged in to Loveisintheair.com. Her face; that was all I needed. Just to see her again. I enlarged the photo that had stayed with me of her laughing to whoever was behind the camera. Fuck, I wanted that to be me. I could see she had logged on twenty minutes ago, but now her profile picture had a small red dot in the left-hand corner indicating that she was no longer online. I’d missed her. I put my hand on the screen. I had no idea why. To feel her? To sense her? To gain some kind of reassurance that she was sitting in her own home waiting for me to respond to her texts and emails? If that was the case, I was a total shit of a person. Scum. Rubbish. Someone so not worthy of her.

  She had sent me an email asking me to explain myself. I could feel the emotion from her words. Angry. Hurt. Embarrassed. I hated that she felt that way because of me. She had ended the email by asking me to give her some indication that I was OK. She said that was all she needed to know. I smiled when she added, ‘Because then I can watch the “Thinking Out Loud” video again without wanting to scratch my eyes out.’

  This girl. My heart fucking pounded for her.

  It may have been the beer clouding my judgment or making the truth all that more precise, but I leant over to grab my phone from the arm of the chair, pushing off the clothes and two-day-old pizza box that I’d had no inclination to move until now. I’d set my favourite picture of her as my screensaver and my heart sank a bit further down into my stomach as I battled with what to do next.

  Shit. I couldn’t focus. What the hell was I doing? My fingers were typing but I had no idea if I was making any sense. Jumbled words. Ramblings. There may have even been an emoji thrown in there somewhere. I hit send and collapsed back onto the sofa.

  The light from the screen slowly faded as I fell asleep, taking the text message I had sent to Gem with it.

  Me: This time four days ago you taught me how to dance

  Chapter 11

  Gem

  ‘Ed Sheeran can go fuck himself!’ I said, plonking myself down on the sofa, a wave of wine spilling over the rim of the glass and onto my jeans.

  ‘Don’t speak ill of Ed; that’s blasphemy,’ Elle replied.

  ‘I blame him for releasing a video that only adds to the false impressions women get of men. Cute, sensitive, has the ability to write songs that make you speechless, and he can dance like his life depends on it.’ They all looked at me like I wasn’t making any sense, but I was; I really was. ‘Expectations, ladies.’ Abi raised an eyebrow that asked me to explain myself. ‘A woman expects a man to sweep her off her feet, preferably as he’s serenading her and playing the leg guitar.’

  ‘Do you think having a glass of wine is a good idea?’ Elle took the glass from my hand and pulled me into her. I raised my legs on the couch and settled into it. It wasn’t often I got a hug from an adult-sized person anymore.

  ‘If the whole scenario wasn’t so hot, I would be so up for ball hacking,’ Abi muttered as she picked at the icing on her cupcake.

  ‘Leave his balls alone,’ I replied.

  A lot can change in a week. I’d had the locks replaced. It gave me a sense of closure, almost like a chapter of my life had ended. This was my home and I would decide who walked through the front door and when. Theo had lost his front tooth but told me not to bother with leaving a coin under his pillow. He knew it was me and not the tooth fairy and I could take the coin and buy something nice to cheer myself up. Brandon expanded his vocabulary by saying fuck my life when I told him he couldn’t have a doughnut for breakfast, and I lost all faith in the male species for the fourth time in twenty-seven years.

  ‘When did you last text him?’ Abi asked.

  ‘Yesterday.’

  ‘You’ve heard nothing?’

  ‘Oh yeah, I got a text message at five in the morning.’

  ‘What did it say?’

  ‘This time four days ago you taught me how to dance. He followed it up with random letters and a laughing emoji, so he was either taking the piss or drunk.’

  My sanity chose to believe the drunk version.

  ‘Oh fuck. What a disaster,’ Abi grimaced.


  ‘Can you blame him? I mean, Jesus. He experienced the ex-husband who lets himself in with a key like he still owns the place, and an argument about seeing the kids, which only highlighted to Josh the sheer amount of baggage I have. I might as well have a flashing sign above my head saying: Avoid, avoid, avoid.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Abi asked.

  ‘That’s it. I’m done.’

  ‘Are you sure nothing else happened? The date sounded like something straight out of a romance novel. I understand that it was a lot for him to face, but if he had questions about the status of your relationship with Jay, why didn’t he just ask?’ Elle handed the wine glass back to me. I wanted to laugh at the visual representation that I did, in fact, need alcohol to get myself through this.

  ‘I can’t waste the time I’ve spent digging myself out of a hole. I’m fine with it being just us. My little family. No matter what, this had to work out for all of us and clearly it hasn’t. Outside distractions, no matter how insanely fucking hot, just can’t become part of the equation, particularly if they can’t accept my kids. Ladies, maybe the time has come for Abi to buy me a vibrator.’ Elle stayed quiet as I laughed falsely. We knew each other well enough for her to know the rehearsed speech I’d just spouted was utter bullshit. Elle was like a sister to me. We had known each other so long I didn’t need to say anything for her to know what was really going on in my head. An eye twitch or a nail bite was all she needed.

  The doorbell broke the silence. Without thinking, I went to open it, still holding the untouched glass of wine in my hand. Joyce’s eyes landed on it immediately. ‘Hello,’ she said, staring at the wine glass and tutting. ‘I just called to drop in this water bottle I bought for when Theo goes back to school. I noticed his was looking a bit…tired. Are you drinking?’ She curled her lip in disgust and tried to peer inside over my shoulder. ‘The girls are round I see?’

  ‘Yes, I have a house full of social workers. It’s shameful really.’

  ‘Gemma…’

  ‘I thought you would be happy I have friends who are upstanding citizens. Would you like to speak to them? Cut out the middleman of an anonymous phone call to social services about what a terrible mother I am?’

  ‘This isn’t good for the boys,’ she replied, completely ignoring my sarcastic comment.

  ‘What isn’t good for them? The fact that their mother has great friends who support her? Friends who make me feel like a living, breathing human being and not just a mum?’ Joyce shook her head in frustration, and the fuse she had already lit was now ready to blow up the bomb. ‘The boys are in bed asleep,’ I said, lowering my voice. ‘Abi and Elle bathed them for me so that I could have a breather for twenty minutes. I couldn’t hear anything but excited squeals and laughter. Tell me how that isn’t good for them?’

  ‘I could do that for you. I would love to give them a bath before bedtime.’

  ‘You do enough.’

  ‘How about I take the boys to school in the morning?’ she asked.

  ‘Thank you for offering but Abi and Elle are staying the night, so they’re going to take them for me before they go to work.’

  ‘I’ll have to let Jay know,’ she said as she started rooting around in her handbag for her phone.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They’re his kids too.’

  ‘I know that, Joyce, but I don’t see why you need to report back to Jay.’ I felt the warmth of Elle as she came behind me.

  ‘Mrs Brown, how lovely to see you,’ she said as she squeezed my shoulder, taking the glass and passing it to Abi behind her.

  ‘Hello, Elle. Nice to see you again.’

  I felt another hand around my waist. ‘Mrs Brown, how are you? Is there a problem here?’ Abi asked, sandwiching herself between us.

  ‘How are you, Abi?’ She was met with a stony face and continued talking when Abi gave her a false smile. ‘Are you drinking too?’

  ‘Driving, Mrs B,’ she replied.

  ‘We’re not drinking,’ I said, wishing I’d taken a sip before opening the door.

  ‘Would you like to come in? The boys are asleep though,’ Elle said.

  ‘I’ve just bought this for Theo for tomorrow.’ Joyce held up the water bottle and Abi reached out over my shoulder to take it from her.

  ‘How very thoughtful of you. He’ll love it. We’ll be sure to give it to him when he wakes up. Nice to see you again, Mrs Brown.’

  ‘Erm, you too, Abi.’

  ‘Have a wonderful night.’ Abi closed the door on her before she was able to say anything else. I smiled as I secretly thanked whoever had brought these wonderful women into my life. ‘Jesus, woman, what did you do in a former life?’ she laughed.

  ‘She hates me.’

  ‘No, she doesn’t. She’s just nosy.’

  ‘She thinks I’m a bad parent.’

  ‘Don’t even go there. You’re bloody amazing,’ Abi smiled as I took a sip of wine.

  ‘You know, I don’t think I’m doing too badly. Parenting isn’t about being perfect; it’s about knowing that I’m doing the best I can for those two boys who mean more to me than anything. I felt like shit yesterday. I shut myself in the bathroom and cried. I looked like crap and when I was sitting on the seat of the loo I saw a note being pushed under the door. Don’t cry, Mummy, it said. I think you’re the best. There were kisses and a little drawing of what looked like a decapitated cat. I bloody love that drawing.’ Elle poured another wine. ‘I wiped my eyes and slung my hair in a bun, and when I opened the door, Brandon was sitting with his feet against the wall and I didn’t even fucking flinch at the shoe print on the paintwork. I scooped him up and hugged him so tight. God, how could I even think that my life is shit? It’s amazing. I’m loved and I love and that’s all that fucking matters.’

  ‘Gem, you’re a good mum, but that isn’t all you are,’ Elle said as she wrapped her arm around my shoulder. ‘You’re a beautiful, funny woman who deserves something for herself.’

  ‘I don’t need anyone. I’m fine on my own. Look at the kind of luck I’ve had with men. I must have some kind of chemical in the brain that makes me actively seek out idiots. I get led into a false sense of security until it’s too late to protect my heart.’

  ‘Well, all the signs were there with Jay,’ Abi laughed. ‘You dropped nail polish on your wedding dress the morning of the wedding, and the caterer didn’t turn up, so we all had to start making egg sandwiches and sausage rolls.’

  ‘How could I forget? I had to cover the stain with a brooch. I looked like a Christmas tree.’

  ‘The final clue was when Jay tried to kiss Elle at your bloody reception. Of course, she had her male repellent switched on at that time—’

  ‘What?’ I said, trying to make sense of what Abi had just said.

  ‘Fuck. What did I say?’ Abi’s eyes shot to Elle, who slowly covered her face with her hands.

  ‘He tried to kiss you?’ I turned to Elle and watched a deep red blush cross her cheeks as she starting fiddling with the little coffee bean on her Tiffany necklace.

  ‘Fuck,’ Abi repeated as the reality of what she had said finally hit. ‘Ignore me.’

  ‘Will someone tell me what’s going on? Elle? What the fuck?’ I asked, sending a confused look to both of them.

  ‘Gem, it was nothing.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t. I know Jay. What the fuck happened?’

  ‘It was years ago,’ Elle replied.

  ‘Tell me.’

  She sighed and curled her lip under her teeth as if she was trying to find the right words to blanket a bombshell. ‘It was at the end of the night and I was leaving. I went to say congratulations to Jay. He was at the bar with a group of his mates and he leant in for a kiss. I turned my head and he got my cheek. See. Nothing.’

  ‘Fuck.’ Abi was still uttering profanities and covering her ears with her hands. Yeah, that wasn’t going to help her now.

  ‘That’s not all,’ Elle said.

  ‘Oh fuck,’ Abi said
through her arms, which were now shielding her face.

  ‘I’m so sorry. This will make it sound so much worse than it really was, but I want to tell you everything.’

  ‘Tell me,’ I said harshly. ‘I want to know everything.’

  Elle sighed heavily and the constant fiddling of her necklace ramped up a gear.

  ‘He put his hands on my bum and said something about wanting to find out if it’s true what they say about the quiet ones.’

  ‘And you didn’t think to tell me this?’ I asked as calmly as I possibly could.

  ‘It was a mistake. He probably didn’t aim his mouth right. I don’t know. He was so drunk by the end of the night,’ Elle claimed as I shook my head.

  ‘You told Abi, though, not me,’ I said, wanting to get this right because we didn’t have secrets and this couldn’t be happening right now.

  ‘I was there,’ Abi said, finally dropping her arms. ‘I saw it happen.’

  ‘Does Kate know?’ I asked. Elle covered her face again as Abi nodded.

  ‘Only when you divorced. We were telling her what happened—’

  ‘Let me get this straight. You both knew from the day I got married that he had the capacity to be a lying, cheating scumbag, and then you told Kate but didn’t feel this was information I should know.’

  ‘It was just a mistake,’ Elle said. ‘Why would he want me? He was just being a typical lad in front of his mates. He probably really enjoyed embarrassing me and that’s all there was to it. A game. A stupid, drunken game.’

  ‘I hear that a lot. Excuses. People always have a bloody excuse for him. I never thought I’d hear one from you. Not after everything.’ Elle gasped and tried to take my hand but I quickly pulled away. ‘Anything else you’ve been hiding from me?’ I snapped.

  ‘I didn’t say anything because it was stupid. He was drunk and I was the quiet target. He was with his mates and they were all just taking the piss.’