Zaire placed his hand over mine, stopping my fingers from moving any further down his face. "I know, Bea, I know," he said, his voice so faint only I heard the words. He kissed my fingertips and sat up as if he had never made his confession. I took a good look at him but he was shutting me out and that made my heart wrench. "Well, I need another drink. Anyone want one?"

I shook my head and cast my eyes to the floor. Each person in the room faded into the background, their conversations unclear and muffled. He was going to propose? The words swirled inside my brain. I was breaking, was broken. Internally, I screamed for someone to save me, to stop the pain, but my face remained blank.

Matt shifted forward on the sofa and applied more pressure on my back, making me realise he was still there. Turning to look at him, I gave him a weak smile and mouthed that I was okay, but his expression told me he knew better.

With no words spoken, he grabbed hold of my hand and pulled me into the hallway. "You sure you're okay? You've gone really white."

"Yeah," I said, but it wasn't easy. My mouth dried up like I had eaten cotton wool. I smacked my tongue a few times on the roof of my mouth. "You know what, I'm a bit thirsty."

"Sit down and I'll grab you a water." Matt helped me to the bottom step of the stairs. My right hand grasped the front of his T-shirt as I eased myself onto it, but I struggled to let go.

He glanced down and frowned when he noticed my knuckles pale with the strength of my grip.

My temples throbbed and my stomach churned as heat covered my skin. "It's so hot in here." I yanked my jumper off my skin and fanned myself with the collar, but that didn't help. "I can't breathe." Panic set in and I desired nothing more than to escape, but my body was done fighting.

"Shit, you are shaking." He slid his arm behind my back and steered me up the stairs to his room. The walls gradually closed in around me as we ascended each step.

The blue bedding and brown shades of the furniture swirled together when we walked into his bedroom. I rubbed my thumb and forefinger over my eyes to alleviate the blurriness. I had to pull myself together. Matt was practically a stranger and here I was falling apart in front of him for the second time.

The edge of his mattress hit the back of my legs. He peeled off my shoes and jumper before lifting the corner of his duvet.

I looked up, and he silently asked me to get in his bed. "I'm not sleeping with you."

The corner of Matt's lip curled upwards as he shook his head and nudged me to move up. "Just get comfy. I'll be back in a minute with your water."

I heard the click of the door closing and stared vacantly at the plump pillows. They did look inviting. Maybe if I laid down for a minute everything would feel okay. Just for a minute. I brushed my hand over the dark blue sheets, ironing out any invisible creases and gingerly rested my head on the nearest pillow.

My jeans itched against my skin and I longed to take them off. However, I didn't want to give Matt the wrong idea. My eyelids closed but flew open when Saffron's face appeared.

"Not now," I muttered into the empty space. "I am sorry, Saf. I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean to." I fixed a point on the wall, refusing to close my eyes, and my vision blurred further with an onset of heavy tears. "It's my fault. It's all my fault," I repeated to myself.

I was still mumbling those words when the duvet lifted off my body and the bed dipped behind me. A waft of mint draped over me as Matt stroked the hair away from my face.

"Shh, It's okay. Let it out." He slipped his arm around my waist, pulling my back flush against his front. Where I should have felt warm in his embrace, I felt nothing but cold and numb.

"I didn't see the tree. I promise. I didn't see it." I hardly recognised my own voice as it broke on each word, shaking between my sobs.

"What tree?" It could have been anyone behind me, and I wouldn't have noticed. Their words floated around me, like an echo whirling in the wind, detached from any physical form.

"I tried to save us."

"Is this about Saffron?"

"I tried but the ice. It was so icy," I continued, his question not registering at first.

"Zaire told me about the accident. It's not your fault. You know that, right?" His head hovered against my shoulder and his cheek brushed against my skin as he spoke, tugging at my consciousness.

Halting my sobs in my throat, I turned to face him and swallowed the bitter lump down as those amber hues anchored me to him. My heart was still reeling even as the safety of his hands on me slowed it down. I grabbed the side of Matt's head. "You don't understand. I killed her. I fucking killed her. I was driving the car."

"We were arguing because she wanted to stay out." I momentarily squeezed my eyes shut as I recalled that night. "She was so drunk. I wasn't drinking and wouldn't stay over at this bloke's house. Zaire wasn't there, and I wasn't leaving her at that house while she was intoxicated."

Fresh tears ran down my cheeks and I dropped my hands off his face to wrap them around my body. That night was carved into my brain. I replayed every scene, hoping I could change the outcome. Images of Saffron laughing, dancing, flirting, flashed in my mind. Carefree and fun, everything I wasn't. Would never be again.

We were all drawn to her, like moths to the flame, but instead of the blaze burning any of us, I set her alight.

I wiped my face and blew a ragged breath out to calm my heavy sobs. "It was icy out and I lost control of the car. I tried to steer the car away. I managed to steer it away, but not well enough. Her side hit a tree."

I paused, allowing the last of my confession to crawl up my throat, charring my insides as it did. "She died on impact. And here I am, still alive. I killed her," I whispered the last three words, hoping they couldn't cause any more damage.

Matt stayed silent, listening to my admission. The truth will set you free. What a load of bull! Whether they were locked away deep inside me or were released to appease my torture, it wouldn't change what had happened. What I had done.

Matt slipped his arms around my waist and massaged circles along my spine with his thumbs. His touch caused my heart to skitter and as he leaned in closer, his warmth finally seeped under my skin. "It was an accident. It wasn't your fault."

"They blame me, you know. Her parents. They won't look at me. I killed their only child. She had her entire life in front of her, Matt, and I killed her. And Zaire was going to marry her."

That last revelation ripped the last threads out of my stitches. I feared I would never recover. My body had fought to heal, to be here today, but my soul gave up that day. I wished Matt had met me before then, had known the real me and not this shell wandering aimlessly through each moment.

For some unknown reason, Matt knew I didn't need his pity or soothing words at that point. He weaved his fingers into my hair as I buried my face into his chest. I released the last of my pain into the fabric of his T-shirt.

I cried for Saffron, for me, for Zaire.

***

Oh, my head! I rubbed my fingers against my forehead and winced at the pain radiating through my skull and limbs. Stretching out, my legs collided against bare skin. Bare, muscly and hairy skin.

"Morning," Matt said, his voice hoarse, as he uncurled his arm from my waist and turned away, pulling the duvet over his head. "Headache tablets are on the bedside table with some water."

I squinted at the two pills and filled glass on my right. Water had never looked so good, my mouth sticky from dried saliva. "Thanks." After swallowing the white tablets, I spied my jeans on the floor next to me. "When did I get undressed?"

The last thing I remembered was crying into Matt's chest, clinging to his T-shirt like a safety blanket. I must have fallen asleep shortly afterwards, but my jeans were definitely on when I did.

Matt rolled over to face me, keeping the duvet tucked around his head. "Please tell me you haven't forgotten what happened last night?"

"What happened?" Brows knitted together, I anticipated his response. Would he be truthful? I had been drinking but not enough for a blackout and memory loss, even a temporary one.

He sat up further, propping himself up onto his forearm. The duvet slid down, revealing his naked chest and I struggled to keep my eyes on his, wanting a quick peek of his chiselled muscles. I could pass it off as first aid if I was discreet enough. Someone needed to check he hadn't developed a rash burn from the wax. My gaze dipped to the hairless strip of skin. Yep, he was still perfect.

Matt caught my not so subtle gawk and grinned. "I'm insulted!" he faux-gasped, placing his hand on his chest. "Just the best sex of my life. Sorry, you didn't think the same."

"You're lying."

He gave a one-sided shoulder shrug and tumbled onto his back. "Oh, okay. You got me. We didn't," he said, amusement ringing through his voice. When he turned to peer at me again, his smile grew even wider. "You pulled them off sometime this morning and went straight back to sleep."

"That's not funny." I shoved him away and masked my blush by getting up to slip my jeans on. "Thank you for last night. I feel a bit better after talking about it all. Did Zaire come looking for me?"

"I told him you were asleep. Promised I'd drive you home when you were ready. Fancy some brekkie first? I make some bloody fantastic eggs." Matt threw the covers off, letting me take full advantage of the view.

Black boxer briefs hugged strong thighs and my gaze leisurely swept over his body this time. His lean, sculpted physique was proof he took care of himself without overdoing it like some of the gym obsessed men I'd slept with over the last few months. A glowing olive tan stretched over every inch of skin and was so tempting to touch. But I had denied myself the pleasure.

Last night while he soothed my breaking heart, Matt had revealed there was more to him than just a jokester with a drool-worthy body and breathtaking features. He was kind, patient and a terrific listener. When I felt vulnerable, he didn't rush me or take over. He let me set the pace and although it was something I longed for; it was dangerous.

I couldn't afford to let him in and that wasn't fair on either of us.

I blew out a weak sigh and smoothed my hair down. "Sounds nice."

Once dressed, Matt guided me downstairs, palm pressed against the small of my back. The lounge and kitchen had been tidied from the party, drunk guy was absent from the table and the house appeared to be empty besides the two of us. Matt cooked our breakfast and admittedly, the eggs were bloody fantastic as he put it.

Matt drove me to my house shortly after we ate. Our conversation stayed light which I was more than grateful for and when I climbed into the back seat of his car instead of the passenger side, he never questioned it, acting as if it was a totally normal habit to have.

"Hello, darling, did you have fun?" My mum called out as I dropped my front door key into the bowl in the hallway.

Resting my shoulder against the lounge door frame, I watched my mother attempt one of her weekly crosswords, glasses dangling on the end of her nose.

"Why are you home so early?" Wandering into the room, I took a seat on the sofa next to her.

"I booked a mental health day off work and fancied time at home, relaxing with my favourite daughter." She pulled me into her side and planted a soft kiss on my forehead.

"I'm your only daughter." Sinking down the sofa, I curled up onto my side, laying my head in her lap.

Mum lifted her crossword book over my head and tucked my hair behind my ear. "Are you okay, sweetie? Just tired?"

"Yeah, Mum. Just tired." I closed my eyes and listened to her pencil scratching over the paper.

My erratic heartbeat from this morning was slowly steadying its pace and the gloomy cloud that followed me around lifted slightly as I cleared my head and thought back to a time before the accident.

To a time when a younger version of myself, with ash-blonde pigtails and a cornflower blue pleated dress, would sit as still as a statue during one of Dad's important brunch meetings. I remembered the teenager with straight As and her first puppy love with the boy next door. Those versions of myself were clear in my mind but I had lost sight of who I was before the accident, of the girl whose life revolved around her friends and her love for nursing. I couldn't even step foot near a hospital, let alone work in one.

With each day, Beatrice was slipping further out of my grasp, and I wasn't sure if I had the strength to hold on any longer.

***