When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
"I'm home," I yell out into the apartment, dropping my keys on the hall table. There's soft jazz music coming from Sarah's room, the distinct smell of Marcus's aftershave in the sitting room, and a half empty bottle of wine and two glasses on the table. I sigh, bristling inside and ponder showing up at Jake's apartment for the night as he offered. I should have stopped over, instead of the extra car journey home; we'd be watching a movie by now. There's no response from the closed bedroom so I assume they don't want to be disturbed. I don't attempt to call out again. I just go to my room and dump my luggage by the bed, glad to be home, yet at the same time the familiar pang of missing Jake is already washing over me. We have worked together so much over the last few months, glued side by