Right Number, Wrong Girl

“Good.” Mum looked at me. “Is Sophie at your flat?”

Camilla glanced at me. “I don’t know that she’s there for sure,” she said softly. “She sent that one text and that’s it.”

“She has been there.” Henry hovered behind Camilla. “I asked her to tell me or Cait when she got home, and she texted me about two this morning.” He focused on me. “But I think she knew I’d tell you.”

I stood up and walked towards her. “Camilla. I need your address.”

“I don’t—” Camilla paused, stepping away.

Henry glanced at her. “It’s all right.”

Camilla hesitated. “I’m not sure. She’d have left if she wanted you to have it.”

“Loving her is the happiest I’ve ever been,” I replied quietly. “Please. Let me try and prove that.”

She drew in a deep breath. “All right.”

CHAPTER THIRTY – SOPHIE

Bright Lights and Broken Hearts

I scrolled the website for job vacancies. They were all shit, but so was unemployment.

My little stint into the fantasy world of Exmoor hadn’t changed my very real-life situation. All I had to show for it was a broken heart, a soul full of regret, and still no job.

I applied for literally every job possible and set the laptop down. It wasn’t even mine. My laptop was in Devon with Camilla in Bluebell Cottage where Hugo was and—

I took a deep breath.

It was fine.

It was all fine.

It didn’t matter that being with him had brought me a joy I’d never felt before.

Nope.

Nothing.

No bother.

Not a care in the world.

I’d gotten home a little before two a.m. I’d kept my promise and told both Henry and Cait that I’d made it home safely, and after waking up today, I’d texted Cam and let her know I was all right.

I’d left Cavendish House in quite the storm yesterday, and I didn’t want her to worry too much.

She was my best friend, after all.

I had a stream of missed calls from her. I’d done nothing but sit and watch the phone ring over and over until the screen had darkened and it was yelling at me about battery.

I didn’t want to talk to her. I knew I had to—I had to explain everything from my side. I owed her that much at least, and for what it was worth, I didn’t think it would be too difficult a conversation to have. She hadn’t left me any messages, so she wasn’t going to yell at me.

I needed to call her.

I picked up my phone and stared at the screen.

Why couldn’t I do it?