‘No, I’m bloody not. Will you control yourself and help me out?’ He tugs at my hand.

‘I’m sorry!’ It’s no good. I’m crying, mascara probably pouring down my cheeks. I throw all of my strength into heaving Patrick up from the floor, making quick work so I can get to the toilet. And I do just that when I’ve finally got him to his feet. ‘Excuse me!’ I laugh, running towards the ladies, passing a shocked looking Sal as I fly past the stationary cupboard.

When I’ve sorted myself out and composed my jerking body, I walk back into the office to find Tom and Victoria have arrived and Sal on her knees collecting up a million paperclips.

‘What happened?’ Victoria whispers.

‘My desk finally gave in.’ I smile, and try my hardest to keep the giggling fit from returning again. If I start, I won’t stop.

‘I missed it!’ Tom cries incredulously. ‘Damn it.’ He hangs his man-bag on the back of his chair. ‘Darling! How is the bride?’

‘Fine,’ I answer.

‘Oh yes!’ Victoria pipes up. ‘When I get married, it’ll be just like your wedding, except perhaps not at a se…’

I dart warning eyes to my ditsy work colleague, and she acknowledges her near error by snapping her mouth shut and hastily removing herself from the area.

I kneel down to help Sal. ‘It was beautiful, Ava.’ she muses dreamily. ‘You’re so lucky.’

Sal’s sweet words only enhance my gloom—until my phone starts singing from my bag. I glance across at it, sitting amid the chaos of broken up desk. I can’t speak to him. I’m a little surprised that it’s taken him until now to call me, and even more surprised he wasn’t so persistent last night. These signs are all an indication of one thing and one thing alone. He knows he’s pushed the boundaries. I can’t even imagine what he’s doing with himself, besides running continuous laps of the Royal Parks.

Sal looks at me expectantly, but I just smile and continue picking up paperclips and popping them in a pot. It’s only now I wonder why out of all the things we could be clearing up, we’re collecting the smallest things of all. ‘I’ll call him back.’ I say to Sal, while thinking how therapeutic this actually is.

When we’re done, Sal gets up and heads to the kitchen to make coffee, while I pull myself up and head for Patrick’s office. I knock the door and poke my head around. He’s sitting at his desk, a little red faced, combing his hair. ‘Are you okay, Patrick?’ I ask, biting my lip furiously as I take in his buttoned jacked concealing his rounded belly.

‘Yes, yes. I’m fine.’ he huffs, slipping his comb down the front of his jacket and into the inside pocket. ‘I think Irene might see this as a sign to lose some weight.’ He grins a little, making me feel a whole lot better for laughing at him. I grin, too. ‘I’m glad I’ve made your day, flower.’

‘I’m sorry, but you must have heard the creaks every time you sat there.’

‘Yes, I did. Stupid cheap tat!’

‘I’m sure,’ I agree on a serious face. There was nothing cheap about my desk. ‘Would you like a coffee?’

‘No.’ he grumbles. ‘I need to go home and change.’

‘Okay.’ I slip out of his office and return to my pile of wood, rummaging around the lose parts until I find my bag. I locate my phone, clear the missed call from Jesse, then dial my doctor.

‘Is he okay?’ Tom asks on a chuckle, Victoria joining him.

‘He’s fine, but keep a straight face when he leaves to go and change out of his burst shirt.’ I grin.

‘He popped his buttons?’ Victoria laughs, flopping back in her chair.

Tom looks over at Victoria and joins her laughter. ‘Oh flipping heck! What I’d do to go back in time to make sure I was here.’

I manage to hold my giggles and slip into the stationary cupboard when my call connects. After getting past the guard dog of a receptionist, I finally get an appointment for four o’clock.

The day passes quite swiftly, with only a few missed calls from my Lord. The calls were expected, but what wasn’t expected was his lack of persistence. He didn’t call the office, he didn’t stop by and he didn’t ring off the hook. I’m not sure if I should be satisfied that he seems to accept my request for space, or worried that he’s uncharacteristically giving it to me. It has now been over twenty four hours since I’ve seen him, and I would be a liar if I said I don’t miss him, but I need to over-ride this. I need to stick to my guns and the only way I can ensure that happens, is if I don’t see or speak to him. It’s frightening what he can do to me when I’m determined to hold my own, and it’s usually with his touch, so yes, distance if key.

I collect by bag and get up from my makeshift desk, which happens to me a paste table we had stored out the back. ‘I’m off. See you tomorrow.’ I say as I pass all three of my colleagues. ‘I’ve cleared it with Patrick.’ I don’t want to be saying where I’m going because it will undoubtedly lead to further questions. Privacy in this office is a luxury.

A chorus of goodbyes ring out as I shut the door behind me and make my way to the tube. Angel starts up as I’m approaching the station, but I leave my phone in my bag. Where I’m going, I really don’t need to be thinking about him, but it’s hard when his favorite track, is echoing very loudly, even from the depths of my bag. It stops for a nanosecond, but then starts again. I ignore it, focusing my attention on the nearing station.

I jump on a shocked gasp when a tall, lean, green eyed wall lands in front of me, and my hand flies up to my chest, resting on my heart as I breathe heavily. Then I get mighty irritated. ‘What are you doing?’ I ask shortly.

‘You wouldn’t answer your phone.’ He points to my bag. ‘Maybe you didn’t hear it.’

I look up at him and find an accusing stare. He knows damn well I could hear it. ‘You were following me.’ I can be accusing, too.

‘Where are you going?’ He steps in closer, but I move back. I can’t let him touch me. And shit, where am I going?

‘A client.’ I blurt.

‘I’ll take you.’

‘I told you, I need space, Jesse.’ I’m aware of fellow pedestrians stepping around us, some moaning, some throwing filthy glares, but I’m not concerned and neither is Jesse. He’s just staring at me, looking shockingly spectacular in a grey suit and blue shirt.

‘How much space and for how long? I married you on Saturday and you left me on Sunday.’ He reaches forward and grasps my upper arm before sliding his touch down my arm until he’s holding my hand. As always, my hairs stand up on end and a shiver reverberates through me. I watch him just stare at our joined hands, his fingers weaving through mine slowly as he chews his lip. ‘I’m struggling, Ava.’ He looks up at me and lands me with a green glazed stare. ‘Without you, I’m really struggling.’

My heart breaks for this man standing before me, and I clench my eyes shut, desperately fighting my natural instinct to step into him and hold him. If he’s not getting his way with fuckings of various degrees or a Jesse style countdown, then he’s breaking me down with heart wrenching words. It wouldn’t be so bad, but I know he absolutely means each and every syllable. He’s crippling me again.