My Lost Hero (Angels of War Series #1) REWRITING 2024

Chapter Twenty-six

I threw myself a little home warming party. It was a quiet affair between my family and friends, but lovely none the less. I put my cooking skills to the test and cooked a three-course meal of French onion soup with cheesy crusty bread, lemon crusted salmon with long stem broccoli sauteed in butter, garlic and almond flakes to finish the course off with a warm pear tart.

Everyone gushed over my house, insisting on a show and tell, and by the time I laid dessert on the table, Markus had us laughing so hard that tears poured down our faces at the stories he was telling.

After filling up everyone's glasses with crisp white wine, I cleaned up the table, a little overwhelmed at the state of the kitchen when I tried to find a spot to rest the dishes. I filled up the sink with soapy warm water to wash the greasy pans, lowering the hood of the dishwasher to load the plates and other bits that would fit when Olivia walked through the door to help.

"Your house is serious goals," she said as she reached for a few small plates to pass to me. "It's so beautiful, babe, especially your bedroom. I love the chilled out vibes you have going on in there." 

I wanted my bedroom to be a space where I could escape to when I needed to relax with cool cotton bedsheets, blackout blinds, and lamps with warm-toned lightbulbs. It was a technology-free zone with a fancy carved bookshelf replacing my television and radio.

My sleep patterns were so out of whack that I would do anything to help. Creating a relaxing space came first, next to the four self-help books on my bedtime ritual list and my lavender bath oil. That stuff was like my drug.

I put it on my pulse points, pillows and in my bathwater, sinking into the relaxing scent for as long as possible. There was just something about it that relaxed me.

I grabbed a bunch of cutlery and rinsed them underneath the tap before loading it into the dishwasher. "I'm most proud of my bedroom. I got a load of stuff from IKEA yesterday and spent all night dressing the room up."

Olivia's eyes grew worried at that because she knew well of my sleepless nights. "By all night, you don't actually mean all night, do you?"

I hesitated with the sponge in my hand as I got to scrubbing the pans. "Depends if you want me to lie or not."

"Oh, Tabitha," she whispered, stepping forward and into my space. "Are you sure that you can do this on your own? There's no shame in speaking to a doctor."

I looked down at my hands submerged by the soapy suds. "I'll be all right, please don't worry."

"You don't have to be strong all the time. Look, I know we haven't known each other for all that long, but it's clear to see that you're trying to brush your feelings under the rug. I want to help you." She reached out to grab onto my arm.

A bubble of annoyance caught me off guard, and I realised it was probably because she was right. I didn't like to burden people with my woes and frankly, my constant mopping was annoying me.

"I'm taking antidepressants. I have been for almost a week now, okay? Only my family knows this, but I got some help. I'm not that far gone. They just mess with my sleeping patterns a bit. The doctor prescribed me some sleeping tablets too, but I haven't quite built the courage up to take them," I said.

Not wanting to make a big deal out of it, she purposely went back to stacking the plates. "Good for you. Those meds are bound to mess with your head a bit at first because they're playing with your brain a bit, but I'm sure things will settle down once you get used to them."

I nodded. "It's only a small dosage, so we'll see."

Things got quiet then after that, with the both of us tidying the kitchen in under ten minutes. I brought out some tea and coffee, showing off my baking skills with the homemade mint chocolate fudge as one last after-dinner treat.

Olivia followed me back into the kitchen with more questions on her mind. "I can't stop thinking about something you said. Why don't you dare take the sleeping tablets yet?"

I sighed as I rested my hands on the edge of the kitchen counter, about ready to call it a night. "In case I don't wake up."

Her gasp had me lifting my gaze. "Oh! Oh, gosh, babe."

I shook my head. "It's silly, I know, but the thought of taking them freaks me out. I live on my own. If something were to happen, then who would find me?"

A stark amount of concern flooded her gaze when she reached out to take me into her arms. I let myself melt into them because I needed it. Matt really had found a keeper here.

"Those thoughts aren't healthy ones. And that will not happen to you," she said, stroking up and down my back.

"You can't say that because look at Megan. She was young, ate healthily, exercised all the time and yet, she died. Just like that. Gone. Puff!" I replied, still sour and confused over it.

She hugged me closer. "Unfortunately, her heart didn't work properly. That's very rare. And I know it probably won't make you feel any better, but you must remember that, okay?"

I would try. I needed to try because the anxiety over my health was becoming too much. My doctor said this was a very common symptom of grief and anxiety, that sometimes our brain struggled to process things and short-wired.

Matt came into the room holding two empty bottles of wine. "Oi, Tabby, stealing hugs from my woman, eh? Not that I blame you. Those boobs are the best type of cushion."

I stepped back at his inappropriate comment and rolled my eyes, going back to boil the kettle. I didn't want people to be thirsty in my home, so served more drinks. "Do you want anything else to eat or drink, guys?"

I turned my head just as Matt came up behind me, fingers ruffling out his shaggy hair with a worried expression. "You haven't stopped all night. Why don't you go take a minute? I'll make the drinks."

"No, it's fine," I said, flipping on the kettle.

He watched me move around the kitchen before grabbing onto my arm. The contact caused me to flinch, but he didn't seem to care one bit, tugging me so I was tight in his arms. "Have you heard from Josh?" he said, taking a guess as to what had upset me.

The way he held me even tighter when I relaxed helped. "I have no clue. I blocked his number."

That shocked him. "You did? Guess that explains why he keeps messaging me. I just figured you were ignoring him. Not that you weren't receiving his messages at all."

I pulled back to stare into his eyes. "He's been contacting you?"

Flicking his gaze over my face, the edges of his eyes crinkled when he nodded yes. "He found me on Facebook. I think he's desperate for you to message him back."

"I asked him to leave me alone." I broke off, brushing out of his arms when the relief of hearing Joshua cared enough to contact Matt made me uncomfortable.

"Is that really what you want?" he replied, knowing to keep his distance from me when I went to the fridge to grab the milk for the hot drinks.

"I'm protecting me." I stopped talking at the sounds of my parents laughing at something, carrying on when I was confident nobody was coming through here. "I'm being smart with my feelings this time. I don't think it was a good thing with how much I wanted to fix him. I got attached way too quick and it bit me on the arse."

"You need to give yourself a break. It wasn't all your fault. He made you feel that way. Those feelings don't just happen out of nowhere," he said with the frown of all frowns.

I shrugged. "I don't have a lot of experience with relationships." You were all I knew until him.

Understanding completely, he nodded his head to save bringing up our past in front of his girlfriend, which I was pleased about. Even if she seemed cool and secure in their relationship. It wasn't necessary to talk about.

"I can tell him to stop messaging me," he replied.