You're My Star

The bells rang clear and loud across London, welcoming in a new year for us all.

Small tears gathered on my lashes and I shook them away. 

It would do no good to cry.

Crying solved nothing. 

My glass was laid on an unknown table, the location was unimportant.

I wasn't going to go back for it. 

Almost dreamily, I pushed my way through the throng of kissing and dancing figures, cheering and rejoicing at the prospect of having survived yet another year. 

It made me sick. 

A few hours of happiness, maybe sex with a partner and some more heavy drinking, then waking up the next day to complain of hangovers and aching limbs, maybe an unfortunate waking naked, in the bed of a stranger with a mild case of amnesia, and then turning on the radio to hear some unfortunate had been raped, or murdered at some point in the nights celebrations. 

But yet, thoughts quickly drifted from the horrors, because a hangover was more important and critical than helping an investigation to bring justice to a grieving family. 

Still, I moved, before finally breaking out into the cool night air.

Fireworks boomed overhead, their colours mocking in their intensity, almost leering at the fact that all colour had been leeched from my life exactly a year ago. 

The night had been much like this one. 

Clear and comfortably cool. 

The stars peeked out through the velvety night sky and Matthew's hand squeezed my own, gesturing towards the East, where a particularly bright star shone. 

"Whenever I look at that star, I'll think of you." He smiled, his blue eyes glistening with the untold depth of his love for me. 

I pulled him close, his body flush against my own, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, attempting with that small gesture to convey to him just how much he meant to me, to make him aware of how much he mattered.

He was the centre of my universe and he didn't even know it. 

"And I'll think of you." I whispered. His fingers tightening around my hand. 

The bells rang out over London.

Fireworks rocketed overhead, and under that flickering, iridescent light, we shared our first kiss of the year. 

"Come on," I called over the noise of the fireworks, "let's go home and get a drink." 

His little dark head bobbed enthusiastically and I grinned, pulling him quickly down the highstreet. 

People walked past us on either side and he clinged onto my hand ever more tightly to stop himself from being pulled away. 

The crowd thickened, more people flocking to the pier to watch the fireworks and welcome in the new year. 

Our bodies were jostled and I felt Matthews hand slipping from my grasp.

I glanced over my shoulder at him and watched as his tiny frame was battered by the sea of people, every now and then a look of pain flashing over his face as someone knocked him too roughly. 

I let go of his hand.

"I'll meet you at home!" I yelled.

He nodded quickly as he slipped away.

"I love you!"

His body slipped away before I could hear his answering response. 

When I finally arrived back at our apartment, my heart surged with delight. 

Matthew will be here soon. 

I all but danced into the kitchen, and pulled out the bottle of champagne from the fridge. We had been saving it especially for that night. 

A swift nudge from my hip sent the fridge door slamming shut, and I swiftly produced two champagne flutes from the glass cabinet. 

Our little tabby cat watched almost judgingly from the window sill and a giggle burst forth from my lips. 

I was insanely happy and not without good reason. 

I had the man of my dreams, a beautiful home, a steady job and a loving family.

Life was perfect, and nothing was going to ruin that. 

My dancing feet quickly brought me into the living room where I placed both the champagne, and the glasses on our little coffee table. 

A happy sigh escaped my lips as I flopped down onto our cream sofa, my gaze drifting to the Christmas tree in the corner of the room, it's twinkly lights peeking through the branches like stars in the night sky. 

Half an hour passed before I began to worry. 

After an hour, panic began to set in. 

My hands shook as multiple scenarios flashed through my mind. 

Matthew, where are you? 

I refused to cry. To cry was to give up hope. 

He was okay. 

He'll be home in a little bit, giggling about how mad the people are outside, or how he got sidetracked by that bright star again. 

My fingers itched to call up family members and friends to find out if he had gone there, I always got as far as dialling the number before my hands shook and I replaced the handset onto its cradle. 

He'll be okay Dominic. Stop panicking. 

The remainder of the night passed without a word and still he did not return. 

I glanced down at my clasped hands, before glancing back up at the forgotten champagne on the table before me. 

The clock ticked softly, marking the endless seconds I had been waiting. 

I heard the boiler gurgle into life and I closed my eyes, my body swaying slightly in exhaustion, but I could not sleep. 

Three knocks sounded at the door and my head snapped up, my heart attempting to punch its way out of my chest. 

Matthew! 

I leapt towards the door and wrenched it open with shaking hands.

"Where the fuck have you be-!" 

My shout was cut short by the sight before me. 

A lone police officer stood before me. His face downcast.

A bearer of bad news. 

My heart sank. 

"Can I help you?"

The words were hollow to my own ears. I knew why he was here. I just hoped I was wrong. 

"Mr Jones, isn't it?" 

I nodded the affirmative, not trusting my own voice. 

"I'm here about Mr White." 

A quiet whimper of pain escaped my lips and I nodded once again as my eyes teared up. 

"Please. He didn't come home. Is he okay? Please say he's okay." The words tumbled from my lips in a tumult of emotion as the first, hot, salty tears fell down my cheeks. 

"I'm sorry to inform you that Mr Bellamy is dead. He died around 12:45am from internal bleeding, and multiple stab wounds. We are composing a murder inquiry but we will need you to identify the body." 

The words sailed over my head in a jumbled mixture of sounds. 

I fell to my knees as my life came crashing down. My heart constricted and an anguished moan tore forth from my throat. 

Not Matthew.

Not my beautiful, Matthew. 

I shouldn't have let go of his hand. 

This small action cost him his life, and I will never forgive myself. 

I still don't know who did this.

Justice has not been served to me, or his family. 

My eyes are drawn to the East, to that star my beloved pointed out to me that fateful night. 

It shone brightly overhead as the first tears fell from my lashes. 

My heart ached, I longed for the day I could join him, the day we would be reunited. But until that day, I would remain strong. For him. 

I pressed my fingers to my lips before flinging them away, towards the star. 

"I love you." 

My feet began that familiar walk home, walking against the flow of people, just as I had all those nights ago, yet with one difference. 

This time I walk alone.