When I Lost You: A Gripping, Heart Breaking Novel of Lost Love.



When we finally climbed out of bed, Molly ordered coffee and breakfast, and we spent the next few hours on the balcony together. I sat with my legs propped up on her coffee table, she rested lengthways along the rattan loveseat, using my thigh as a pillow and dangling her legs over the armrest.

It was a casual morning – a relaxed morning filled with the strange tenderness I felt towards her and punctuated by the sound of her laughter. She’d amuse me with an anecdote or observation, and I’d caress her gently as she talked, or bend to kiss her without agenda. Although she wouldn’t have known it, I knew that this wasn’t my style. In the past I’d had more than my share of flings, but I couldn’t actually remember the last time I wanted to just spend time learning someone.

I wanted to know Molly; I wanted to unpack all of the parts of her that made her who she was and to be as familiar with her as I was with myself. I wasn’t thinking about the future, or even the past – I was in the moment with her, focused completely on her, and I felt content.

As the morning stretched on and we began to think about lunch, I realised I’d have to get some casual clothes – I was still wearing the dress trousers I’d donned for dinner at Circular.

‘I really need to change out of these clothes.’

‘I don’t want you to leave.’

I looked down at her, and found her staring up at me. I felt the smile spread across my face.

‘Come with me. Let’s go get some lunch, then we can go back to my place.’

‘Should I call a town car?’

I laughed. ‘Nope. We’re going to my place, so let’s do this my way.’



We walked away from Molly’s apartment, back towards the city. She was wearing a cap and sunglasses, and it occurred to me that she’d donned a type of casual disguise.

‘So, should we talk about the ground rules for being seen together in public?’ I asked her quietly.

‘Yeah. It doesn’t happen often, but I’ve been papped a few times. Usually when I’m doing something embarrassing or unglamorous – like wiping my nose or wearing tracksuit pants.’

‘And if that happens today?’

‘I wouldn’t mind at all, except for Dad… but there is that, you know… so I really hope it doesn’t happen. And it probably won’t, it’s not like photographers go looking for me – more they’ll take a snap or two if they happen to be stalking some unfortunate celebrity and I wander past. So, I guess the takeaway message is – no getting handsy while we’re out.’

‘No getting handsy,’ I repeated, and we both laughed.

‘I’m not worried that other people might think we’re together, you know. It’s not that.’

‘It’s fine, Molly. It works for me too – God, imagine if people thought I was sleeping with you! How embarrassing!’

She giggled. There was something about the carefree way that sound escaped her lips – it relaxed me, and made me smile too. My life was full of purpose but it was not a life of laughter. Perhaps that was what had drawn me to her in the first place.

‘We’re not walking a long way, are we?’ she asked me.

‘Not far. Why, do your shoes hurt?’ I glanced down at the casual shoes she’d pulled on.

‘No, but I’m unfit and lazy,’ she laughed. ‘I love the idea of being fit, but I hate the reality of making it happen.’

‘I think you’ll like my dog,’ I told her. ‘He always tries to join me when I go for a run and sometimes he’ll run like a machine and still be jumping around like a crazy thing when we get home. But other times, we’ll get half a block down the road and he’ll decide he’s had enough. And when Lucien decides he’s had enough running for one day, that’s usually the end of the story.’

‘What kind of dog is this Lucien?’

‘He’s a ruthless, ferocious, extremely macho…’ I paused for dramatic effect, but then sighed. ‘Actually, he’s a poodle.’

‘Sure he is!’ her laughter echoed around us.

‘Truly,’ I put my hand over my heart. ‘He is a pure-bred standard poodle and his hair is a very fetching shade of apricot.’

‘You do not strike me as a poodle owner.’

‘Well, I’m not really his master, he kind of owns me.’

‘How do you even care for a dog with all the travel you do?’

‘My neighbour technically owns him, but she’s getting older now and couldn’t manage his activity levels.’

‘If you’re trying to impress me with what a big softie you are, it’s not very convincing.’

I laughed. But before I could say any more, we reached the train station. The look of sheer horror on her face stopped me in my tracks. ‘You have caught a train before, right?’

‘Of course I have,’ she said, but she looked away from me as she said it, and then, ‘Maybe I haven’t caught a train before,’ she murmured and she clutched her handbag to her chest.

‘How did you think we would get back to my place?’

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