It all started with Joy.

Chapter 7: Forgive me?

Lily.

I hate Mondays. I lazily flutter my eyes open, but I squint because I didn't expect my room to be this bright. I know it's May, but we're in the UK; I thought it was going to be cloudy, possibly drizzling as usual, so my best guess for today's weather is that global warming is worsening, unfortunately. I force myself out of my cosy nest and I make the bed before walking to the kitchen to get some needed breakfast; I fill the kettle with water, and I dump a sachet of soluble cappuccino in my mug -I know, what am I doing, right? But I can't stop every day at a coffee shop; the salary of a midwife and inflation don't go hand in hand I'm afraid. I grab the overnight chocolate oats jar I have left in the fridge, and I place it on the marble table; I hate oats prepared like this, but it's the only breakfast that keeps me full long enough to get work done without fainting. I mean, it is common knowledge that in healthcare you know when you start your shift, but you never know when you'll finish or when you'll have your break, if you get it. The kettle's switch jumps up, and the orange light disappears, signalling that the water has boiled.

"Ow," I mutter as drops of hot liquid splash on my hand as I pour it.

Someone sighs, and I whip my head around to see Jay standing in the middle of the room, still in a pair of grey shorts and a flimsy white vest. "Please, don't make me take you to A&E at," he rubs his eyes before checking the clock on the wall, "half six in the morning."

"It's not my fault," I defend myself.

"It never is," he smiles, "make me a cuppa?" he asks slumping on the nearest chair.

I bring my coffee over to the table, holding his freshly brewed tea in the other hand; he had already fished the brownies out of the fridge, wolfing one and moaning with pleasure. As he sips his tea, he leans over the table, so close to me that I can feel his breath fanning my skin, "you do make the best brownies."

It's something so silly and simple, but I can't help myself, and I smirk, satisfied.

Every morning, Jay and I fight about who gets to use the bathroom first, and it doesn't help that we both start at eight; as usual, I win. Or does he let me? I like to think that I wear him down enough for him to give up. Anyways, I manage to get to work just in the nick of time, huffing and puffing after the jog from the car park to the office and I start flicking through my diary to organise my workday; I am pleasantly surprised when I realise that I am going to be in the same clinic the whole day. Thank goodness because I hate driving. After printing the list of families I am seeing today, it is crystal clear that it is going to be an hectic day, and I mentally give myself an high five for having had oats for breakfast. When I finally finish my last booking appointment of the day for a new pregnancy, I glance at my phone and it's four o'clock already. As the display lits up, I spot a notification from Sam, so I swipe on it, and it opens up.

"Hi 😊 I wanted to call, but I realised you would be at work. Call me when you're free?"

A smile creeps up as my finger presses the call button; it only rings twice before his voice echoes in my ears.

"Hey, beautiful," I can feel my cheeks reddening, "thank you for calling me. How are you? How was your day?"

I find myself grinning as he shoots his questions, just as nervous as I am. "I am good, just tired... it's been pretty busy so I can't wait to go home and do nothing," I chuckle, "what about you?"

"Same day at the office. You know, you pitch your ideas, they tear them apart, same old same..." but he gets cut off, the noise around him replacing his playful voice.

I move the device away from my ear as the commotion intensifies, "whoa, what's that?" I ask, curious to know if he lied and he actually works as a security guard during concerts because that is the only thing that can explain the tumult.