“Lulu… just please let me talk” he begged, trying desperately to catch my eye as I tried to avoid his.

There was nothing left for him to say. Nothing that could ever make me see him the same way. Sure, the cops had let him go. But that didn’t make any difference. The damage was already done. I stared down at the buckling floorboards, my gaze cold and thoughtless.

“Lulu!” He managed to clasp onto my hand and my body brushed past his as he pulled me in.

I was quick to slap his hand away.

“Get the fuck out of my house Alfie.” I snapped. He had no right to touch me, not after everything that had happened.

Shoving my hands in the pockets of my winter coat, I turned my back on him. I couldn’t bare to see him. I knew that if I saw him I would feel too bad.

“And don’t call me Lulu. It’s not my name,” I muttered, lowering my head and sighing deeply.

“Hey-“

“No!” I spat. “You don’t get to just meander back here and pretend like everything’s normal! My baby sister is dead!”

The gravity of the words make my jaw ache. It was the first time I’d ever said it out loud. I couldn’t stop my lip from quivering and my eyes welled with fresh tears.

“Eloise… can I hug you?” He pleaded, his voice breaking in despair. His arms were outstretched, broad and strong. But I shook my head silently.

Without another word, I picked up the suitcase laid out waiting for me and left him alone, his arms still yearning to hold me and comfort me. But he couldn’t. Not anymore.