Twenty-one missed calls.

Not one. Not two. Not three. Not four.

Why? St Patrick’s all-knowing soggy ballsack probably doesn't know why Hugh’s girlfriend. His girlfriend. Is ignoring him like he was a neglected, unwanted child pestering their parents for attention.

Hugh’s feet dug into the brakes the second his brown-eyed gaze landed on Gibsie’s stupid fat cat, Brian, crossed the road like the build-up to some stupid joke that the arsehead would come up with.

Brian, the lazy shite it was, took his sweet time and Hugh considered running it over. Really, he did. His feet nearly lifted off the breaks and Brian seemed to get the hint and scurried off to whatever hole Satan sent him up from.

About bloody time.

Hugh raced through the streets, past the town centre and towards Aurora’s house—mostly convinced that he nearly ran over Martha Kelly in his escapade but Hugh couldn’t bring himself to give a shite. He passed Dollette’s Ballet Studio and turned down to Haregrow Street where his woman’s house was lodged.

And suddenly, fear coursed through his veins. Did he want to know why you were ignoring him? Yeah, asshole, you did. But would Hugh like it? Fat-fucking-chance.

Hugh swallowed down the frog in his throat, killing the engine, hopped out of his car and to the door. He gave it a small knock and waited. When met with nothing, Hugh took it as a God-given hint to work on his core strength and pulled himself onto the roof of the protruding window area at the front of your house by the eaves, before dropping down into your room with a heavy thud. Instantly he was met with the sickening scent of chloroform—your medication, okay normal.

However, the sight of his girlfriend relapsing had his heart breaking into a million pieces.

Huddled in the corner. Blood everywhere.

“Stop!” Unable to bear it any longer, Hugh fell down to his knees and clamped a hand over your blood-soaked thigh, desperate to hide it, to stop it, to make it go the fuck away.

“No, baby, no!” A raw sob tumbled past Hugh’s lips, while using his free hand to dominate the hand you were wielding the scissors with.