As I finish getting dressed, the wool of my sweater; snagging briefly against my hair as I pull it over my head. Before I can smooth it down completely, my phone chimes with a message. I pick it up, and a sharp knot twists in my stomach as Ryker’s name flashes across the screen.
R: Do you want to meet this morning?
I swallow harshly, my throat tightening, before my fingers fly over the screen with a reply.
Me: Sorry, I can’t, I’m helping my mum today . . .
I hesitate, the cursor blinking relentlessly, before I add:
Me: I haven’t really spent any time with her while I’ve been here and the whole visit was because she wanted to see me.
I press send and wait. I stare at the silent, glowing screen for what feels like an age until, finally, three bouncing dots appear.
R: Yeah, I get that,
