I spent the rest of the day on an unbelievable high. In pure Paul style, just as home time came around, he squashed any good feelings I enjoyed by revealing he was working tonight. The disdainful scowl that spread across my face said everything.

"You know I won't be sleeping with anyone else, Kyra. Just relax."

My internal war raged once again, making me wonder whether I could actually do this or not. "It just feels wrong, Paul. You're going to be in a house full of gorgeous women who are all up for anything that goes. It's just...weird."

He fell quiet for a minute. "Kyra, I don't want to make an issue out of this. You are reacting to this like we're in a relationship. It shouldn't matter what I do when we're not together—that's the beauty of not being with someone like that. This is a perfect example of what I was talking about when I said I don't do relationships."

His words cut deep as he confirmed yet again, he wasn't interested in anything more than this "friends with benefits" situation. I knew we weren't together, but I still couldn't help a tiny bit of hope rising that my Friday night would be filled with sex with my fuck buddy.

He came to me and took my hands in his. "I'm sorry to say that to you again, I know it hurts you. I'm just making a point, that's all."

I tore my hands away from him and grabbed my stuff before heading for the door. "Ok. Fine. But don't expect me to jump when you click your fingers."

I didn't hear from him for the rest of the night, which resulted in more hate-fuelled thoughts running through me. The more I thought about him and what he could be potentially doing whilst I sat home alone, the worse it became.

Saturday, I went for lunch with Ash, and I couldn't help but moan about the recent happenings.

"You need to grasp the whole idea of this fuck buddy thing," Ash said. "If you can't deal with it, then I think you need to reconsider."

"But fuck buddies are usually at it at the weekends, are they not? That's what most people do on a weekend." I sighed and then said, "Except me, of course, because mine is too busy wanking over other people getting fucked."

Ash laughed. "So join in, then. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

"Seriously? Don't go there again."

He pushed his half eaten salad around his plate, his amused expression disappearing as a serious shadow over took his features. "Have you heard from Mum?"

I narrowed my eyes and clenched my jaw. "No."

He pressed his lips together and reached across the table and placed his hand over mine. "I know she'd love to hear from you..."

I snorted. "Well, she has my contact details. It works both ways."

Ash sighed and rolled his eyes. He took his hand back and then put his fork down on the table which only foretold me of the lecture to come. "Come on, Ky. It's been a long time. The whole Tim thing is old news. Time to let it go and move on. Surely your relationship with Mum is more important than your hatred for him."

I shivered at the sound of Tim's name and glared at my brother. "The guy came onto me, Ash. I had to punch him to get him off me because the word 'no' means nothing to him. I don't hate him, I despise him. The man is an abomination of nature. He shouldn't be living." I stopped for a breath and then said, "Do you really think I'm the only one he's done that to? The sheer audacity to assault his stepdaughter on his god damn wedding day..." I shivered. "No, Ash. The fact my mother believes that parasite over me cuts deeper than anything else. She needs to come to me."

"Ky, come on. I told you this at the time and I will repeat it again now—Tim wouldn't do that. It was just a case of too much to drink and you perceiving the hug he gave you in the wrong way."

I narrowed my eyes at him and all but spat my next words out. "Since when does giving someone a hug involve sticking your hand up their dress or groping their boobs? The man cornered me, he trapped me, Ash, to the point my only way out was to punch him in the face." I shook my head and sat back in my chair, folding my arms over my chest. "I don't call two vodka and cokes too much alcohol. A six-year-old could drink that and not feel it."

Ash held his hands up in a surrender sign and said, "You have never liked him from day one. I think you saw an opportunity to vent your anger and dislike for him and punched him."

"I told him no and he wrapped his hand around my throat and started to choke me, Ash. Should I have let him strangle me to death so you could finally see him for what he is?"

"You're being a drama queen," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "It's as simple as that. Tim is very honest, genuine, and caring. The community over there adore him. He goes to church every Sunday. He's really not a sexual assault kind of guy."

I cocked my head to one side and said, "You know who else went to church every Sunday?"

Ash frowned. "Who?"

"Jeffrey Dahmer. Gary Ridgway. Dennis Rader. Hell, Rader was a cub scout leader and got elected to president of the church council. You can't judge a book by its cover, Ash."

He chuckled. "I see you're still watching your serial killer documentaries."

"It's part of my coursework, actually. Understanding the psychology of prolific murderers and what makes them do what they do. They felt that God and the church would help them deal with their darkness, but it didn't. All it became was a crutch."

"I don't think you can compare Tim to those guys. They're on completely different levels."

"But are they? You know where serial killers start? Torturing animals. You know where rapists start? Molesting women."

"I think you're taking this to the extreme, Ky. Yes, those situations with all of those murder guys happened, but that doesn't mean that every married, church going man is a rapist or a murderer."

I nodded. "I agree. But he is."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "We're just going round in circles. I don't see that side to him, and considering it's your word against his, I have to go with the evidence in front of me—I know Tim and I've spent a lot of time with him."

My stomach filled with a nauseous ball of unwanted memories and rejection from my own brother. My heart dropped to my feet as I fought back tears. "You grew up with me and spent more time with me, Ash."

"I don't want to upset you, but I just don't see that side to him."

"Well, you be grateful for that blindness because what happened to me is something I will never forget. You didn't see the look in his eyes, Ash. He was so intent on getting what he wanted. He really scared me."

For the briefest of seconds, a flicker of hesitancy flashed through his eyes. Then he reached over and grabbed both of my hands. "I'm sorry that whatever happened affected you so much. I don't like thinking of you suffering from upsetting memories, but I do think it was a misunderstanding and too much alcohol on both sides."

"Whatever, Ash," I said, pushing my food away from me, my appetite gone.

He left the subject alone after that, departing not long after to trek down to London for Ben's set tonight in the club. By four o'clock, I was back home, alone.

With Mum weighing heavily on my mind, I decided the cleverest idea would be to reminisce through old photo albums. Of course, the idea turned out to be absolutely ridiculous and I ended up sobbing my heart out wishing everything had turned out different.

If only Dad hadn't died, if only Scotch hadn't died, if only Mum hadn't married a toy boy and moved abroad, if only we still had a good relationship. If only, if only, if only; those two words were the story of my life.

Tim, Mum's toy boy, was the epitome of a cowboy. I could understand why Mum fell for him. At an age gap of nearly twenty years though, I never understood why Tim, given his fine looks, healthy bank balance, and love of horses, couldn't find someone his own age.

Don't get me wrong, Mum, for her fifty-two years, looked damn fine. She took great pride in her appearance and cared for her body well. Unfortunately, after losing Dad unexpectedly, I had the opinion, to this day, that Tim was a rebound. Nothing more, nothing less. A hot, younger guy paying interest in an older, emotionally vulnerable woman? Who wouldn't fall for that?

But the two years that passed since the wedding day had done nothing but sour my memories of our relationship. When I told her, in front of Tim, what he'd done, the smug look on his face as she rebuked my claims would always haunt me.

Now though, in reality, too long had passed for either my mum or me to give in and pick up the phone. It hurt that she hadn't believed me, and it hurt that she picked him over me.

Lost in my thoughts and clutching onto a sofa cushion as I dried my eyes, I welcomed the distraction of my phone pinging with a text.

Paul: Are you busy tonight? XXX

I snorted and ignored him. Instead, I wandered into the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. Always a good choice when feeling emotionally unstable. An hour and a bottle of wine later, I received another text.

Paul: I would love to see you. ;-) xxx

I hadn't forgotten my warning to him yesterday about expecting me to jump when he clicked his fingers. So again, I ignored him.

Definitely not in the mood for cooking, I ordered Chinese. Several minutes later, a knock sounded on the front door. I frowned thinking how the food couldn't even be cooked yet, let alone here.

I opened the door, rolling my eyes when I saw Paul staring back at me.

"Hi," he said, flashing me a winning smile.

"What do you want?"

"I came to see you."

I laughed. "No, you didn't. You came here thinking you could get lucky after you ditched me last night. I thought I made myself quite clear when I said I wouldn't be jumping when you clicked your fingers."

He chuckled and sighed. "Ok. I can see this is a bad time."

I raised an eyebrow as a response.

"So...I'll...see you on Monday."

"Yep."

I slammed the door shut, feeling rather proud of myself. I'd barely sat down before my phone beeped with another text.

Paul: You know I could make you feel better. ;-) xxx

I smirked at his words and persistence, but I refused to give in. I had to make a point. He couldn't control me like a dog.

Me: Doesn't mean youwill. See you Monday.