I obviously did not physically kill either my mom or my grandfather. Logically I know this. Logically my dad knows this too, however that logic couldn't bring him to look me in the eye when he came into the hospital room to see me after it all happened. Or at the funeral, or memorial masses, or just about any time we spoke about them.

In his mind, if I didn't need to be somewhere that day, nobody would have been in the car, we would never have been hit by a truck, and my mom and pop pop would still be here, living.

I was eleven when they died. I had a violin recital that day and we were running a little late. Sarah and Dad were meant to come along too, but Sarah had been running a fever since the night before, so they stayed behind. I was so excited to have my grandfather there to watch me that it didn’t matter who else came along. He was going to see the results of all the work he had poured into me over the years, and that was all that mattered.

My mom said that we were only a few minutes behind. She said she could still get us there on time and not to worry about it. I remember how she smiled at me through her rear view mirror, promising that it would all be fine.

She loved to watch me perform. I’m sure she intended to record me playing up there on stage that day, just like she did every other time. I’d often search the crowd for her as soon as the curtain was drawn, only to find her standing off to the side of an aisle making sure that she caught every second on tape. She’d give me a tight lipped smile as tears welled up in her eyes, making them seem like they were sparkling. I imagine it would have been no different if we had made it.

At some point along the road, my mom missed a stop sign. A pick up truck coming from our left hand side had no time to stop, and it hit the front of our car. I don't remember much of it, just that a lot of people came to help. All of a sudden I was with a strange woman at the back of an ambulance while paramedics worked on my grandfather. I couldn't see my mom.

The truck driver was across the street, sitting on the curb in a state of shock as he watched on. His face was almost grey. I remember that he had this tattoo on his forearm that I kept staring at. It was one of those vintage style ones with a cute little swallow flying over a banner that had the name Veronica written on it. Over the years I’ve painted a picture in my head of who Veronica might be. Was she a girlfriend? A wife? Maybe even a daughter? All I really know about her is that her name is now etched into my memory.

When we got to the hospital, they put me in a room on my own and had a doctor check me over. Bar a few cuts and bruises, I was completely fine. I figured that was going to be the case for my mom and grandfather too, and that all I was waiting for was for them to see a doctor like me.

I waited and waited for my mom to walk in and check on me, I must of asked to see her a hundred times.

When my dad finally arrived, he walked into the room like he was afraid of what was inside. I could tell that he had been crying, but there was no sensitivity from him at all, he just came right out and said it.

"They're dead Isobel."

I can still hear those three words every time I think about it. Still hear the break in his voice. The sound of his uncontrollable sobbing haunts me.

My mom pretty much died on impact when the truck hit. My grandfather hung on as best he could, but he died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital from internal bleeding. It was strange really, the only thing that saved me was my placement in the car. I was sitting on the right hand side in the back. I think about that all the time. Had I got in the other side of the car, or had I begged my pop pop to let me sit up front with him like I usually did, I'd be with them.

Everyone said I was lucky.

I wished that I’d been sitting up front.

For months the remainder of our family moved through this thick black fog. Our whole world was dark. Finding any kind of normal was impossible, and every single bit of our life changed.

We would take Sunday visits to the graveyard, Sarah and I began to dread the weekends, but Dad insisted. One Sunday, several months after they had passed, my dad had been having a particularly rough week. That's when he said it.

He turned to me, tears running down his face as he clutched their headstone and he said;

"I can't help but blame you for all of this Isobel. They should be here, but they're not and it's all because you wanted to go to that god-damn recital."

That was it, our relationship was never the same again.

Sarah was like a mediator at times, ensuring communication happened between us. Of course my dad took care of me in a basic sense. He made sure that I had everything I needed physically, but emotionally, the difference between Sarah and I was measurable.

I tried everything to win him back. I never caused trouble at school, I was always home on time, no drugs, no drinking, no boys creeping around. I worked hard thinking it would all mean something to him, but it didn't. The older I got, the harder it was to come back from. So I stopped trying so hard to get his attention. I stayed with friends as much as I could, did extra classes, got a part time job. Anything that meant I was out of that house as much as possible.

I'm sure he was happy when I finally moved out at nineteen. He didn't have to avoid entering rooms incase he had to engage with me anymore. He didn't even have to think about me if he didn't want to.

These days we're civil when we see each other. We ask the expected questions, give the expected answers. He checks in on me by telling Sarah when I haven't been around for awhile, then she guilts me into visiting him again. We follow that pattern year after year and that's just how we get by.

♾️

"So", I say, watching for Will's reaction after spilling my guts to him for the second time tonight. "You've known me a handful of days now, and so far I've lied about having a boyfriend, had a panic attack, been a bitch to you, spilled your coffee while hiding from that boyfriend I lied about, been a bitch again, and now I've told you all about how my father thinks I killed my family. Are you scared to know me yet?"

Will steals a moment to gather his thoughts, taking in a deep breath as he tries to make sense of it all.

"I recall you telling me you were vanilla Izzy," he says, cocking an eyebrow at me.

My cheeks blush. “Yeah, I suppose I did… maybe all of this was too much to share.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I begin to worry that I may not be the kind of person that Will wants to befriend right now. I wouldn’t blame him, this is a lot for anybody, never mind someone that I barely know

“Isobel?”,” Will says, forcing me to look up from my hands.

I wait in anticipation for him to tell me that he’s not interested in getting involved with this chaos right now, or that he needs to focus on the bar or his band or whatever excuse he can come up with to avoid getting sucked into this shit show that is my life.

As if he can hear what I’m thinking, Will reaches across the table and takes my hand in his.

“It’s not too much," he says reassuringly. "It's a lot, and by that I mean that it's a lot for you. But it's not like you made any of that stuff happen. Okay, you lied to me, you did do that, but you didn't make yourself panic, you didn't assault yourself, you didn’t ask for any of this, and you absolutely did not kill your family."

I feel a lump form in my throat. It’s so strange having someone be this kind to me.

"Isobel, I really need you to hear me on this," he says as he leans in closer, pinning me in place those damn eyes of his.

"There's nothing you could have ever done that would make you deserve what that guy is doing to you. Nothing. I'm all for karma, but this is not it. You did nothing wrong. And hey, fuck your dad too, he sounds like an asshole."

His blunt outburst sends me into a fit of giggles.

"That's charming," I say, "I bet he'd like you."

Will has a way with words that cuts straight to the point with no apologies. I think it's my favourite thing about him. It’s nice to finally have a light moment among all of the heavy. I didn’t realise how much I needed to smile.

As my nerves start to calm, Will gestures to a guy behind the bar for another round of beers. I guess I'm staying put.

"So anyway," I say, wanting to move on to better things, "enough about all of this sad stuff and my messy life, how was your show? Sarah said she had a blast."

"Oh really? That's great! Yeah it went really well, no hiccups. We had drinks after with some friends, your sister was there actually. Oh, I hope it was alright that I told her I knew you? If I had known everything…"

"Um, yeah, she mentioned that,” I admit, “It's fine. Actually she asked if I’d to come with her on Friday to see you guys."

"Oh?"

"I didn't give her much of an answer, but I think I could use a night off from all of this if I’m honest."

"You should come," Will says enthusiastically. "I'd love to have you there.”

“I’ll see, I’ve a lot to sort out before then.”

“Do you have a plan yet?,” he asks, “or somewhere to go?"

"Yes, I do. I have a plan, kind of. I'll be okay."

For the first time since I left that apartment, I genuinely feel confident when I say that. I know I don't have anything lined up yet, but I know that things can’t get any worse. There has to be some luck coming my way right?

"Is there something I can do to help?," Will asks. "I'm not sure what you might need? Like Annie said, I have a room. You’re more than welcome to it. Or some money if you need it?"

"No! No really, I'm fine," I insist, embarrassed that he'd even offer. "I have some savings there of my own, it’s all okay. Worst case scenario is that I might need to stay with Sarah for a little bit until I find somewhere, that’s not so bad."

"Have you told her about any of this?"

"Nothing. She knows that Jamie messed up my teaching position for me, but she was ready to do jail time for that, so it’s best she doesn't get involved now. I'll tell her that he and I broke up when I see her this week but that's it. She can come help me pack my things if she really wants to do something useful."

"Do you think he’ll let you take your stuff without any problems?," Will asks.

"I’m not sure. I have thought about it though, and I might have a idea. I have this app on my phone that’s connected to our alarm system, it shows when it's turned on or off. We usually set it when we're both out, so I could use it to make sure that Jamie has left for work and then go and get my things while he's gone."

"That doesn't sound all that safe for you Isobel."

"Maybe not, but I've never really left anyone before so I might just have to go with it."

"Or I could come with you?," he offers. "Then you wouldn't have to worry about being alone with him."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I honestly couldn't think of a situation much worse than that. Imagine what Jamie would do if he had to watch Will help me leave. He'd kill me.

Ugh, how have we managed to get back to the heavy stuff again?

"I'm sure it will all work out," I say, brushing off his suggestion. "Do you mind if we stop talking about all of that though? I'm beyond tired of talking about myself."

"Alright, alright, no more questions about it. Just don't do anything crazy alright? Like

I said, I'm happy to help, all you have to do is ask."

"I will," I say, nodding my head. "I promise. So anyway, where are you living Will?"

"I'm just over on Berkley Avenue," he says, "do you know it?"

"Oh sure! It's really nice there, I had a friend who lived over that way. Do you like it?"

"Yeah it's great, it's really quiet. Exactly what I need."

"I didn't take you as the quiet type," I say.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, tilting his head to the side. "What type did you take me as?"

I’m suddenly flustered, unsure of what I even meant by that.

"I don't know," I say with a shrug, "I figured you'd be throwing parties and playing loud music all night and stuff."

"Ah, so you thought I was a generic musician."

"Is that bad?"

He smiles, picking up his beer and placing it to his lips. "It’s stereotyping."

Another flush of embarrassment creeps up my neck as Will chuckles away at my expense. Seems like there’s more to him than I thought.

"Have you lived there long?" I ask, trying to move past my faux pas.

"About three years," he replies. "I was only eighteen when we sold Dads house, so I lived with Annie for a couple of years first. I bought a place in a neighbourhood not to far from hers. It was alright, my girlfriend Kim moved in awhile after I bought it."

Girlfriend?

I try hard to stop a reaction from forming on my face, and keep quiet in the hope that he elaborates further on that point. Thankfully it works.

"And then a few years after living together, a dog and an engagement, I found her in our bed with her brothers best friend."

"Holy shit!" I exclaim, totally gobsmacked.

What a bomb to drop. I can't understand it? Will seems absolutely perfect!

"Yeah," he agrees with some laughter, "holy shit.”

Taking another sip of his beer, he looks off to the side, hiding himself from me. I don’t want to push him, or force him to remember things that he doesn’t want to, so I wait and let him decide where he wants that conversation to go.

Placing his beer back on the table, Will shakes his head and sighs.

“It seems like a lifetime ago when I think back on it now,” he says. “You know, it was crazy at the time because I knew that there was something going on between them. I was so sure of it. I even asked her out straight once and she told me it wasn't happening and that I was being paranoid. She said that she couldn't believe I'd accuse her of something like that, I was the one being distant, blah blah blah, all of that stuff. Lo and behold, there they were when I got home one night, completely naked and fast asleep with his arm wrapped around her."

"Fuck. So what happened then? You moved out of your own house?"

"No, she moved out. But then I couldn't really live there after we had been there as a couple, so I sold it and bought the place I have now. It's weird, sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had never caught them. Would she have went ahead with the wedding? Would we have kids by now? Would she still be carrying around that secret? Or would she have left me? I know it's not really worth thinking about, but I can't help it, it's something I'll always carry with me."

"Wow. I'm really sorry that happened to you Will."

He nods thoughtfully, appreciation evident on his face.

"So what happened to her?," I ask. "Did she and this guy get together?"

"They did. They're still around, I see them sometimes. They moved in, got married. They seem happy I guess."

Its like he's trying to be the bigger person right now when he really doesn't need to be.

"You don't have to be happy for them you know," I tell him.

"Oh I'm not," he says with conviction. "I hope he fucks their dog walker."

I almost spit out my beer with laughter. At least he's honest, although I can't believe she took the dog too

"So," he says, placing his hands on the table, "now that we both know each others drama, I want you to tell me something good in your life. What makes you happiest Isobel?"

His question catches me off guard, but it really isn’t all that hard to answer.

"Lots of things make me happy," I tell him. "My niece's, the two ladies, running, chocolate! But if I really had to pick just one thing, I think music would be my answer. I know that’s such a basic thing to pick but it’s the truth. I feel like music is something that can be helpful to anyone. I can be in any type of mood and find something that lets me sit with my feelings, there's nothing quite like it. I love it."

"What type is your favourite?," he asks.

"I love to teach classical, I like to show how the melodies and principals relate and show up in todays music a lot. It can be kind of cool to see how it’s progressed over time. Overall though I'm a rock & roll girl at heart. It's hard not to be when you're from here. I definately have an unhealthy obsession with AC/DC. What about you? What makes you happy Will?"

"Well you kind of stole my answer with the music stuff," he tuts as he rolls his eyes playfully.

"But I guess writing does it for me. Working lyrics into something that makes sense, and then having it be perceivable is something I love to do. I do enjoy covering other artists music, but there's just something special about writing your own songs and having people sing along to it. It feels amazing."

It brings me so much joy to sit and hear him talk about his writing and singing the way he does. Even with the tough days he has to look back on, Will is a genuinely happy person. It's beautiful.

I continue to listen intently as Will tells me about songs he's written, and how his style has changed over time. He tells me about some lyrics he has that he's holding onto because he can't quite get the music right. He cringes as he recalls his first attempt at putting a song together, and then he shines from the inside out when he talks to me about the first song of his own that he performed. He even sang a line of it to explain the melody he used. I need to experience him do this properly.

"I wish I'd seen you play before, I'm kind of jealous of Sarah right now," I say. "Although to be fair she's asked me to go see you guys a hundred times."

"So why didn't you?"

"It saved an argument,” I say.

"Oh, of course, sorry..." Will pretends to zip his mouth closed, leaving that conversation where it is like we agreed. “Would you like another drink?," he asks.

Checking my watch, I find that it's well past ten now. We've been talking here for hours. I'm torn. I should go back to my room and charge my phone. I really need to continue applying for places too. On top of that, I never even called Carol or Michelle.

In truth I'd love to stay here and talk all night but...

Reading my internal conflict, Will makes the decision for us.

"Let's have one more," he says, "but we'll have it back in the office so that I can show you something."

I give him a look that could split a block of ice.

"In the office?" I ask suspiciously. "What is it you have to show me back there?"

If that look I gave wasn't accusing enough, my tone certainly is.

"You caught me Isobel," he says flatly, "I'm going to take you back there, where anyone can walk by and see us, and I'm going to take advantage of the four whole beers you've had. How in the world did you foil such a cunning plan?" Sliding out of his seat, he smiles down at me.

"C'mon," he says, "I think you'll like it."

"Alright fine," I agree.

With that, Will walks around to the bar himself, taking our two final beers and motioning to the barman that he's leaving.

"Okay," he calls to me, "let's go."

♾️

The lights inside the office are off this time, Annie must be gone already. I flick them on as Will places our drinks down before disappearing again. He’s back only a moment later, but now he's holding an acoustic guitar.

"Would you wanna' hear something?," he asks.

"Oh my god yes!" I almost squeal with excitement. "Wait, do you just have that thing lying around here or is this one of your moves?," I ask, narrowing my eyes at him again.

"Ah yes, because it makes complete sense for me to own a restaurant that plays live music, but to never actually play here myself right?"

"Touché."

"Anyway," he says, "if I was pulling a move on you there would be no mistaking it. I told you before, I don't dance around these things Izzy. And I'd have locked the door too.”

He gives me that cocky grin of his again and I swear I almost have to cross my legs from the feelings it stirs in me.

"Now please keep in mind that we have very few acoustic songs so I'm going to have to wing it a little bit here," he says as he sets himself up.

"No problem, I'm sure whatever you do will be great."

I pick up my beer and take a seat, listening to Will as he begins to play. He rocks himself in time as his fingers slide over the neck of his guitar. I don't know if it's the drinks or him, but I find myself wondering if that's not all his fingers would be good at.

Christ, get it together Isobel, think of why you're here!

I pull my attention back to Wills music, trying to keep myself focused on the lyrics as he begins to sing. His voice is like a tonic. The words fall off his tongue so effortlessly, like they were only ever to be sung by him. I'm not even sure what the song is about, or why he wrote it, all I care about right now is that he's singing it to me.

I'm well aware of the typical cliché about women adoring musicians, it's a given. However I've been around them all my life, so I was never one to get sucked in by all of that. But as I sit here now and listen to Will transition into the chorus, watching him close his eyes in order to feel the words he sings, all I want to do is reach out and touch him.

He is captivating. It literally astounds me that I get to be here watching him do the thing he loves most in the world. This right here is a memory that certainly won’t fade quickly.

As he croons his way through the rest of his song, I drink him in, never wanting this to stop.

When he does finish, it feels as if someone has taken away my toys. I want more.

My body is oddly tense as he waits for a reaction from me, and I can feel this strange heat rushing up my chest as I grip onto my beer bottle like it's the only thing stopping me from walking over there and doing a whole bunch of things I'll regret.

"That was... wow. That was amazing Will."

I swallow, trying to keep myself under control, but as he stares back at me, I’m positive that I’m not the only one feeling this shift between us.

I watch Wills eyes slowly roam over my body as I sit here with my knees pinned together like they're holding back a flood. I can tell by the satisfaction on his face that he knows exactly what he's done to me. I need to get my ass out of here before I do something stupid.

"So, I gotta get going,” I say as I place my drink down and fumble with my hoodie, somehow

managing to put my arm through the wrong sleeve. I'm a mess right now, and it's all thanks to him.

I try to right myself, but my conversation isn't any better.

"I'm really looking forward to hopefully seeing you guys on Friday, and meeting the rest of your band. Oh and thank you so much for today. I feel like there's a huge elephant lifted off of my shoulders. Or?, wait no! I mean a weight off of my elephant. Oh boy…"

I stop talking long enough to get my arm in the right hole and take a steading breath, willing myself to stop being the puddle of a human being I am right now.

"It’s a huge weight off of my shoulders,” I clarify, “That's what I meant. So thank you."

Will ignores my babbling and puts his guitar down behind him, sitting it across the office table that he's perched on. He reaches out and takes the zip either side of my hoodie, pulling me in closer to him. I can feel his breath on my skin as he slots the zipper together at the bottom.

"It's getting a little colder out there Isobel, and our cheap promo shirts have done enough talking for you tonight."

His eyes glance to my chest, so I quickly look down to see what he's talking about.

Well I'll be damned, he’s been able to see right through the flimsy little shirt that Annie gave me all night.

"Jesus!," I yelp, pulling my hands across my chest to hide my white lace bra as the mortification sets in. "Why didn't you tell me?”

"How do you think I listened to you talk for so long?," he says with a laugh. I reach out and slap his arm. "I'm kidding!, Here," he insists, "let me do it for you."

Will pulls me to him once again and takes the zip between his fingers one more time, closing the hoodie right up to my chest. I wonder if he can hear every single part of my body screaming at him to touch me.

"It's was fine when only I could see that tiny piece of fabric you call a bra Isobel," he says, "but I don't like to share."

My lips part but no words come out. I just seem to be staring at him with my mind blank and a feverin the pit of my stomach that makes my breath quicken.

His eyes stay buried in mine, but it’s not long before they make their way dawn my front again as Will lets out a soft sigh.

"Alright,” he says, “let's get you back to your hotel before I decide to be much less of a gentleman."

"How so?" I ask daringly, refusing to be the only one embarrassed here.

"Don't. I only have so much willpower Isobel, and right now it's running dry."

I decide not to play with that fire any further, it’s probably for the best. Four little beers wouldn't make me anywhere near brave enough to continue that conversation anyway. I’d only end up with my fingers burnt.

♾️

I didn't expect Will to walk me all the way back to the hotel, but it's an extra bonus for me to spend a little more time with him when he does.

When we get there I worry that we're about to have that awkward exchange of goodbyes where we don't know if we should hug or not, but Will is unapologetically smooth. He simply leans in, kissing my unblemished cheek goodbye and then he waits for me to get inside the lobby before moving off.

I feel like a teenager who’s just had their first date. I’d like to say that it has me on cloud nine, but actually it just has me confused. This is rocky ground for me, and I know that I have to be careful. I don't need anything other than a friend right now and it would be wise to remember that.

I have to stop flirting with him.

When I finally get to my room and get my phone plugged into the charger, I sit and wait for it to come to life. Yet again there's endless messages from Jamie. I read a few, almost feeling sorry for him as I skim them. He sounds like he's hurting.

Good.

Ignoring the onset of feelings swarming my mind, I step into the bathroom to have a quick shower and finally wash off that coffee smell. As soon as I get back out, there's a new

message waiting for me from a number I don't recognise.

UNKNOWN: Hi Izzy! Hope you don't mind but I got your number from Will. I had to bomb his phone with messages until he gave it to me! Please let me know if you need anything at all over the next while. I'm around all day Tuesday too if you'd like to get out of the hotel for a bit? Annie x

Honestly she is far too sweet, it's hard to believe she's even real. Shes like a Disney princess or something. I think I’d like to see her again, so I agree to meet after work on Tuesday for dinner. I'm feeling pretty lucky to have met both her and Will right now. Maybe stepping away from Jamie is exactly what I needed to do.

As I get myself ready for bed, I struggle to get Will out of my thoughts. Why does it feel like we had a moment? All I wanted him to do was to take complete control and do me right there on that damn office desk.

God, I really shouldn't be thinking that. Not with the position I’m in right now. In fact, I’m probably just confused about the whole thing. Maybe I’m stupidly taking someone being nice to me to mean something more. I think those few beers went to my head, thats all it is… or is it?

All I know for sure is that I'm not going to get a wink of sleep with the memory of the way he was looking at me playing on a loop in my mind. It was like he could have devoured me whole.

I can't stop thinking of his lips as he sang, wishing that I was able to kiss them. And his hands, I wonder what it would feel like to have them on me?

Closing my eyes, I soon let my desires take over and longingly slide my fingers down into my panties, imagining they belong to him. That it's Will who knows exactly where to touch me, finding a rhythm that makes me squirm as I begin to feel a build up so intense that I have to bite my lip to stay quiet.

I imagine him kissing my neck as his calloused hands bury themselves into my hair, holding it tight as he thrusts himself into me. I can't hold myself back, and I don't feel any concern for the neighbouring rooms either side of me as I cry out, increasing the pace of my fingers. Fuck, I could explode right now.

These dirty thoughts of Will even have me fantasising about things I've never done before, like sitting with my knees either side of Wills head as I grind on his tongue, screaming in ecstasy. That's it. That's the final push I need. My body convulses and releases, and it's so mind blowing that I wonder if I'll ever need my vibrator again! This is easily the best solo experience I've ever had.

I lay there for awhile, trying to catch my breath as I slip back to reality. What a bad situation to find myself in. What the hell am I doing? Hiding from one guy and dreaming about another. What an idiot.

All of that frustration I felt only minutes ago has now been replaced by a whole new sense of confusing guilt.

Without a doubt, Will is going to be trouble for me.