Loving Alex Read Online Free

too, although it isn’t over looked. I root
through my bag and find my phone at the bottom of the seemingly never ending
bottomless leather bag. I really do need to get a new one, one that isn’t an
abyss.
    Taking my phone back to the living room I scroll down my
contacts list I find James number and tap it, he answers quickly, as if he’s
holding his phone.
    “Hi Blossom,” He laughs “What’s up?”
    “Don’t call me that! James, I have a problem!” I blurt out.
    “What’s that?”
    “I’ve just opened my post and I’ve a parcel of photographs,
all of me, me and Anna and you and me.” As I talk to him I pick up some of the
photographs and flick through them.
    “Any note with it?” He sounds concerned clearly stopping
whatever he was doing.
    “No, nothing. Whoever took them has watched us at the hotel,
at the airport and when I’ve been shopping. It’s got to be Lewis! Who else
would do this?” I’m starting to feel panicky again, I thought I was over the
panic attacks, I thought that I’d learnt to control them, “James I feel sick….I
can’t breathe, what if he’s out there now. I…I.” He cuts me off mid-sentence.
    “I’m on my way, hold on Alex. I’ll be there as soon as I
can.” He hangs up as the tears flow again, shit! Why can’t I get a grip on
myself, why can’t Lewis just leave me alone? I feel as though my heart is
pounding although I’m sure it’s not. I try to concentrate on my breathing,
thinking about my happy place, I need to get over this. Alex! Pull yourself
together I mentally yell at myself.
    I grip the photographs and sink to the floor leaning against
the sofa, tears more bloody tears roll down my cheeks. I keep telling myself
that he can’t do anything, I’m locked in and the house is secure but the
thought that he, or someone, has been watching me I find incredibly disturbing
and so very scary.
    I try again to talk myself through the strategies that my
therapist suggested, we’ve only met once but we discussed the panic attacks and
what I can do to calm myself. I breathe deeply counting the seconds that I
breathe in and out, I count from one hundred backwards and think of my time
with James in Tuscany, the times we spent on our own wandering through the
streets of Florence but despite her assurances that these would help I still
feel more than a little panicky.
    I hear James’ key in the front door, he pushes it open but
it halted by the security chain, the chain that he insisted I use. “Alex,
baby,” He calls, “take the chain off the door. Alex, it’s me. Take the chain
off the door.” He speaks slowly and firmly.
    I push the photographs to one side and pull myself up using
the sofa for support. Holding onto the walls I walk slowly towards the front
door and slide the chain out of its bracket letting it swing against the door
frame. James pushes the door open and pulls me into him, “I’m here,” He
whispers, “I’m here,” I grab hold of him, refusing to let go. He guides me to
his side holding me around the waist he guides me back to the living room where
we both sit on the sofa. He just holds me gently, not saying a word as I weep
into his shoulder.
    I break the silence, “Why James, why is he doing this?” I
ask.
    “He’s not Alex…I checked with Benito on the way here. Lewis
is still laid up! It’s either nothing to do with him or someone’s doing it for
him! Are these the pictures?” He points to the photographs scattered on the
floor.
    “Yes.”
    He lets go of me for a moment, muttering as he looks through
the images, I’m sat concentrating on breathing and not letting this get the
better of me when he sits back beside me, I’m expecting a tirade of expletives
but he remains incredibly calm simply thumbing through the images. “I think we
know who’s behind this,” He sounds angry, “it has to stop Alex, he can’t keep
going on like this, the texts and turning up at the hotel, assaulting you…it
can’t go on. I’m calling