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Read book online ยซAt First Sight by Hannah Sunderland (latest novels to read TXT) ๐Ÿ“•ยป.   Author   -   Hannah Sunderland



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of the rain fell at once.

I pushed myself up and began running to the end of the street looking for shelter against this unrelenting rain. The moody grey clouds were staining the bayโ€™s waters the same angry colour. I scanned the scene in front of me, my eyes coming to rest on a line of benches looking out at the water. All were empty, except one.

โ€˜Oh my God,โ€™ I said into the phone, my feet frozen to the ground. โ€˜I found him.โ€™

โ€˜Is he okay, Nell?โ€™

I didnโ€™t answer, didnโ€™t even hang up. I just ran.

I weaved my way between parked cars and moving ones, my eyes filled with raindrops and tears that made the whole world swim in front of me. Hard pavement gave way to sodden grass as I made my way to him, my heels sinking into the mud.

โ€˜Charlie!โ€™ I called to the stationary figure sat upright on the bench, but my voice barely crested above the din of the rain. โ€˜Charlie!โ€™

As I neared the bench, I slowed down, my heart thudding away inside me like it was preparing to be irrevocably broken. Why was he so still, sitting in the downpour like this?

I edged around and his face finally came into view.

โ€˜Charlie?โ€™

His hand on his knee, the orange sea glass pinched between his fingers, he looked up at me with deep red eyes that held a look of surprise.

โ€˜What are yer doinโ€™?โ€™ he asked, his voice dreamlike as if still half stuck in whatever thought he was just consumed by. โ€˜Youโ€™ll freeze to death.โ€™ He stood and walked over to me. I saw him slip the orange glass back into his pocket and I thought of Abiโ€™s last words to me.

Tell him that heโ€™ll be able to let go of it someday and when he does, Iโ€™d like it to be with me. Had the sea glass been what sheโ€™d meant? And how could she possibly have said that when I didnโ€™t even know that heโ€™d taken it with him with the intent of putting it on her grave?

His hands reached up and took my shoulders but I slapped them away.

โ€˜What the fuck are you doing, Charlie?โ€™

โ€˜What did I do?โ€™

โ€˜Leaving your phone places and disappearing, when I know that youโ€™ve almost thrown yourself off a building, twice!โ€™ I found myself almost screaming above the splattering of rain upon the ground. The water of the bay around us boiled like mercury, the rain bringing with it a new chill that sank down deep into my bones.

โ€˜Iโ€™m sorry. I just couldnโ€™t go to the house yet. I needed more time,โ€™ he replied. I could hear how sorry he was from the tone of his voice, but I was still filled with angry panic and the only way of getting rid of it was shouting.

โ€˜Well I need to know that youโ€™re not crumpled on a pavement or full of pills in an alleyway somewhere! You know that I love you! You canโ€™t do shit like this to me.โ€™ The words tumbled out of me with little co-operation from my brain.

I pressed my eyes closed to get rid of some of the rain and before I could open them again, I was being pulled into his arms. I found myself instantly folding into him, fitting to his form and savouring everything that I had thought lost only a minute earlier. The firmness of him, the strength of his arms that curled me into him, the large scarred and calloused hands that stroked my hair in an attempt to stop me from shaking.

โ€˜Iโ€™m sorry,โ€™ he said quietly into my rain-pooled ear. โ€˜Iโ€™m sorry.โ€™

โ€˜Please, please donโ€™t go,โ€™ I said as more tears blended in with the rain. I selfishly wanted him to carry on existing because I wanted him, every piece and part of him, even the broken ones. But I wanted him to live for himself too, to not feel this crushing pain every day; to want to become part of the human race again. I wanted him to want his life.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I called Carrick, who sounded rather teary on the other end when I told him that Iโ€™d found Charlie and that he was very much alive and unharmed, although soaked to the bone. Iโ€™d found six missed calls from Ned on my phone when Iโ€™d gone back to it. I sent him a text and told him that Iโ€™d call him when I was capable of forming complete sentences again, in the meantime reassuring him that both Charlie and I were okay.

We walked back to the house in a state of emotional and weather-beaten shock. My body had never felt levels of panic quite like it before and even though it had begun to dissipate, it still lingered in my muscles, aching and tingling, hesitant to leave in case it had to spring back at a momentโ€™s notice. I let Charlie lead the way, as I had neither the sense of direction nor the mental capabilities to get us back there, and as the tall house came into view with its white wisteria trailing over the porch, I felt Charlie stiffen beside me. We stood there, looking up at the house that held so many memories for him and I waited, the rain now no more than sheets of moisture, dusting my face.

There were years of memories here, in this house, in this town. Every corner of it was probably plastered with moments shared with Abigale Murphy and I felt like a terrible person for being jealous of that. I wanted moments and memories of my own and hopefully, in time, they would come. But for now, I had to watch as he relived every one of those memories with Abi. There was no rushing, no time limit on grieving and Charlie was about the only person on this planet whom I could imagine being that patient for.

โ€˜You ready?โ€™ I asked, thinking about taking his hand, but holding my own instead.

โ€˜No,โ€™ he replied and took a step towards the

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