The First Touch of Sunlight

By Len Webster

My Josh. His Beth. Someone else's Meredith.

Destined to fall apart before their lips have even touched, Samuel Michaels and Meredith Driessen have seven years of almosts between them.

Seven years ago, a night by the river would bind them together. Seven years ago, Sam's entire world blew up before his eyes.

His only saviour …

Meredith.

She saved his life, exposing him to what it could be like to be with her. But that wasn't Life's plan. Because deep down, his secrets will destroy their lives and separate them. His secrets will break both their hearts until the day he finds her standing on the edge of the train platform, completely lost.

He did this to her.

And Sam knows that if he doesn't go to her, he'll lose her forever.

Will seven years be enough to mend their scars? Or will the secrets they both keep deny them once more?

One thing is certain …

You may never know tomorrow's sunlight if you're drowning in yesterday's storm.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Len Webster
• Release date: Dec 13, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533734372

Len Webster

Associate Professor Len Webster has expertise in educational policy, educational development, quality development and flexible learning. Currently he is the Educational Adviser in the Centre for the Advancement of Learning and Teaching (CALT) at Monash University, Australia. He previously was the director of an educational development unit in the Faculty of Law, Monash University, where he was the Faculty Quality Development Coordinator. He has also been a reviewer of the Australian University Quality Agency conference proceedings.

Book preview

Books by Len Webster

The First Touch of Sunlight

The Wait For You

The Sometimes Moments Collection

Sometimes Moments (Sometimes Moments #1)

Sometimes, Forever (Sometimes Moments #2)

Sometimes. Honestly? Always. (Sometimes Moments #3)

Coming Soon

Thirty-Eight Series

Thirty-Eight Days (Thirty-Eight #1)

Thirty-Eight Reasons (Thirty-Eight #2)

What We’ll Leave Behind (Thirty-Eight #2.5)

What You Left Behind (Thirty-Eight #3)

All We Have (Thirty-Eight #4)

With The First Goodbye (Thirty-Eight #5)

With The Last Goodbye (Thirty-Eight #6)

The Science of Unrequited: The Story of AJ & Evan

The Theory of Unrequited (The Science of Unrequited #1)

The Solution to Unrequited (The Science of Unrequited #2)

The Results of Unrequited (The Science of Unrequited #3)

The Dissolution of Unrequited (The Science of Unrequited #4)

The Lawrences

The Better Man (The Lawrences #1)

The Running Back (The Lawrences #2) Coming soon

A happy man has no past, while an unhappy man

has nothing else.

— Richard Flanagan, The Narrow Road to The Deep North.

For Danielle Woodside.

For loving me as an author and then loving me

as the person that I am.

For always being more than I deserve.

I love you more, my dear friend.

Thank you for letting me be part of your life.

chapter one

SAM

Seven years ago

It’s my fault.

It’s always my fault.

Samuel Michaels picked up the bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the passenger seat. It was lighter than before he got in the car. His mother wouldn’t be happy. Disappointed wouldn’t even come close. She couldn’t look him in the eye. Not after what had happened.

Because of Beth.

Because of what they had done.

They destroyed what they knew.

They destroyed how they lived.

Their lives would now change.

He uncapped the bottle of whiskey and brought it to his lips. He paused and stared out at the river. It had started raining almost ten minutes ago, and in those ten minutes, his phone had rung a handful of times. Looking out the windshield, he was thankful the moonlight aided in his view of the river. Sam could just make out the raging waves. A sigh had left his lips before he threw back the alcohol and felt the burning on its way down his throat. Whiskey had never been his drink. The way the liquor scorched waves in his stomach was one he hated, but for Sam, he needed strong. He didn’t want weak beer.

He wanted to be numb.

To forget.

The ringing of his phone had him returning the bottle back to the seat next to him and picking it up. He saw Phillip Hall’s name flash on the screen—no doubt, his mother had called his best friend. Sam declined the call and threw his phone next to the empty bottle. It’d been over an hour since he’d run out of his house to his car. He drove to the bottle shop and then to the riverbank. It was too dark for anyone to notice his car, not unless they came close.

Sam curled his fingers tightly around the leather-wrapped steering wheel and let his forehead rest on it. He wouldn’t cry. He promised himself he wouldn’t. But the flash of Beth’s trembling lip had him sobbing. It had been a mistake. She had said that months ago, and now, that same mistake had caught up to them.

The alcohol had finally kicked in, and he no longer felt. Instead, he relished the numbness consumed by his body. He smiled and then belted out a heavy laugh.

What the fuck has she done? He leant back into the driver’s seat, and his hand searched the door for the handle.

The moment he found it, he opened the door and fell out of his Jeep, landing on his hands and knees. Sam ran his palms through the wet grass and rolled onto his back, laughing. Once he was able to get back on his feet, Sam lifted his arms up and down as if he were flying and stomped towards the riverbank. He let his feet sink, even squishing his shoes into the sloshy mud. He laughed like a child, continuing to march in the dark night.

When he had reached the edge of the bank, he watched the water rush past him. With the moonlight beaming from above, he was just able to see the river current drowning a log.

I want to be that log, Sam said as he bent down and unfastened his shoes. He removed them and placed them on the wet ground. Moisture seeped through his socks and hit his skin, causing his toes to wiggle.

Sam?

Can’t save me, he said to the sweet and gentle voice. I need to be the log… I need to die. He closed his eyes and leant forward, intending to fall into the cold water and never resurface.

To be free.

The impact of the water had him opening his eyes. The current was strong, trying to force him under. His instincts had him fighting against what he had wished for. Water rushed into his mouth, and he swallowed it for air, choking him. His arms fought against the strength of the river.

Dutch, stay! the voice commanded.

Sam turned his head to see her. She was on her stomach, reaching for his hand. His heart had drowned at the sight of her. The look of determination on her face was one he could not miss. Sam paddled—not to reach her but to get away from her.

To die quickly.

Sam! she screamed and reached out further, almost falling in.

I can’t let her die.

The sight of her instantly sobered him.

Not her.

Sam pulled his hand up from the water in time for her to take hold of it. He kicked his legs to get closer to the bank and to stop her from falling in. When he was close enough, she had tried to pull him out of the water, but Sam had fought her. He just wanted her to fall back on the ground.

Stop fighting me! she demanded loudly, tugging on his hand.

A wave hit him, dragging him under and pulling her entire arm into the water. It was a miracle he hadn’t dragged her with him. He broke through the surface, and his eyes met hers. It was too dark to see the colour, but he already knew they were a bright blue. Not dark enough to resemble the ocean, but not light like crystal clear water. The colour was somewhere between.

Sam coughed, trying to breathe in air. My life isn’t worth much. Let me go, Meredith.

Can’t let her die.

Not her.

She gripped his hand tighter, as if she knew he was moments away from letting the current take him.

Meredith blinked once, and the fear in her eyes left her. The determination had returned along with her tears.

Meredith Driessen was crying.

Because of him.

Because she thought he was about to die.

Your life is important to me, Sam. The moment you give up, I’m following you, Meredith said.

Don’t save me, Meredith.

His heart squeezed in a way it had never done before. He held Meredith’s hand tighter, his lifeline.

You’d …

Don’t let me live a life where I want you.

Meredith nodded. Yes, Sam, I would. I wouldn’t hesitate.

Don’t let me love you.

She wrapped her other hand around his arm and gave him a small smile. Let me save you, Sam.

Let me drown, Meredith.

chapter two

SAM

Present

M orning, Samuel, Lily greeted as she handed out The Age newspaper to him.

Sam tucked the folder into his briefcase and took the paper from the nineteen-year-old train station shop attendant.

Thanks, Lil, he said and gave her the ten-dollar note.

How’s working for the Minister for Roads going? Lily asked as she brushed her long black hair into a low ponytail and fastened it. Then she processed the sale of the newspaper through the register.

Once she was done, he shrugged and collected his change. It’s government. It’s hell on Earth.

Why don’t you run as a minister or something?

Got to win the seat for our area first. Then it’s up to Ronald, the party leader, to decide minister portfolios. I’d be eighty before he ever notices me.

Lily leant forward and squinted at him. Politics is stupid. You’d make a great minister. They need ‘em young. How can the young voters feel like they’re being heard or understood if a young representative doesn’t, you know, represent?

Sam chuckled. It’d be a long time before I’m a minister, Lily. But thanks for the vote of confidence.

You make politics interesting, I suppose. She shrugged. Isn’t Parliament out? Why are you heading to the city this early?

Just because Parliament’s out doesn’t mean my job stops. Only means the offices are dead, and I can get some work done. He waved goodbye to Lily as he walked towards the platform. He tapped his Myki card on the sensor and headed over to the green-painted steel bench towards the end of the platform. Sam sat down, placed his briefcase by his feet, and opened the newspaper. He decided against looking at the politics section. Instead, he skimmed over the current events until he read the article about the bus that had crashed on the freeway due to faulty brakes. Luckily, there were no fatalities. Then he read about the latest sex scandal that involved a footballer.

The sudden cool gust of wind made reading the newspaper difficult. He hated July. Always had. When he had started working as an intern for the Australian Labor Party, he never imagined he’d be the Minister for Roads’ speechwriter. Sam turned to the finance section of the paper, hoping to waste some time before his 8:05 a.m. train arrived. The cold temperature and rain drizzle had him wishing he’d stayed home instead.

He heard the sound of the electronic doors open, signalling another commuter had stepped onto the platform. Sam stared at the picture of the Treasurer at a summit in New York. He pondered how far he’d take his political career, wondering if he could be Foreign Minister, the Treasurer, or even the Prime Minister of Australia. Sam shook his head and closed the newspaper. He hadn’t even made it to State Parliament, let alone Federal. The reality of those thoughts was years away, nothing a twenty-five-year-old could achieve just yet. He would need a lot of party backing.

Sam glanced up from the newspaper to see someone standing over the yellow line and close to the edge of the platform. He squinted at her and everything in him halted.

Air fled.

Heart ached and, more than likely, heart yearned.

"Meredith," he breathed.

It had been years since he’d said her name. He had thought of her, wondered and hoped for her. She had been someone he loved. She had been someone he let go. Sam set the paper down next to him and stared at her. Meredith wore a light blue dress and a white cardigan. Her blonde hair curled towards the ends, and her hands formed tight balls at her side. She didn’t look his way, and he hoped she wouldn’t. He hoped they’d get on different carriages and get off at different stops on the line.

Meredith stared at the yellow wildflowers that grew by the tracks. She looked lost in her own world, unaware of the freezing wind her dress wouldn’t protect her from.

He kept his eyes on her. It had been years since they spoke.

It had been years since his heart felt whole.

Two trains had passed.

Meredith never flinched.

She just stood there.

Sam had missed two trains staring at Meredith.

It had been twenty minutes since the last, and his eyes never left the sight of her. Once the boom gates sounded, Meredith leant forward. That was when he knew. Sam stood up from the bench. He didn’t run. He didn’t dash to her side. He simply put one foot in front of the other. When Sam stood next to her, he said nothing.

Meredith turned and looked his way for the first time in seven years. Sam took her in. She was older. She was slimmer in the face, and her cheekbones a little more defined. Her blue eyes were that beautiful middle blue, but they seemed lost.

Empty.

Oh, Meredith.

My sweet Meredith.

The third train went by.

Meredith hadn’t jumped.

She looked into his eyes and appeared surprised to see him. Sam reached into his pocket and took out his business card. He didn’t greet her. Instead, he took her hand and ignored the way her touch made his heart beat within his chest. Sam placed it in her palm and didn’t say a word.

He looked at her one last time then returned to the bench and picked up the newspaper and his briefcase. He decided he wouldn’t go into the city today. Instead, he walked past Meredith Driessen and made his way back into the station. Then Sam passed the ticketing office and the shop.

Sam? Did you miss your train? Lily called out.

He ignored her and kept walking down the ramp and to the parking lot. The moment he reached his government car, Sam unlocked it and got inside. He stared out the window and watched the unexpected rain pelt it. He wasn’t even sure if the blurriness he saw was from the torrential rain or from his tears. Sam reached up and pressed his fingers to his cheek. He felt the moisture, but he didn’t want to believe it as he glanced down. His fingers held traces of his tears, and that was when he cried harder.

Meredith Driessen had tried to commit suicide today, and I had saved her.

I wish I hadn’t.

I wish Meredith Driessen had died today.

Then I wouldn’t remember what it was like to be in love with her.

Seven years ago, I wish I had been the brave one.

I wish Meredith Driessen had never saved my life.

chapter three

SAM

Seven years ago

M argot thinks I’m being stupid, Phillip Hall said.

Sam shook his head and kept his eyes on the whiteboard.

’Cause you are. It’s dinner with the in-laws. You’re both practically married, Sam mumbled and turned to face his best friend.

Phil’s nostrils flared. He raked his fingers through his dark brown hair and then took out his phone. His blue eyes focused on the screen as he mumbled, You’re an ass.

Sam chuckled for the first time since that night by the river. She hadn’t walked into their English class yet. He’d been anxious to see and not see her. After he had let her pull him out of the water, they sat on the grass until morning. Meredith didn’t say a word to him until she had said goodbye and walked home with her border collie, Dutch.

What happened to you on Friday night? Your mum called me. She was hysterical, Phil said as he typed a message on his phone.

Sam gazed down at the clean page of his notebook. He still hadn’t said a word to his mother. She was locked in her room and only came out when he walked into the house on Saturday morning. His mother remained silent as she hugged him, made him breakfast, and then returned to her bedroom.

It’s nothing. Sam avoided looking at his best friend.

Well, answer your phone, bro. That’s all you got to do. Just let me know you’re okay. Phil set his hand on Sam’s shoulder.

I guess. I don’t really want to go. Meredith’s voice had him lifting his chin.

A navy blue ribbon fastened her curly blonde hair perfectly. She held her books to her chest and laughed. It was flawless. He’d always been drawn to her laugh. On Friday night, that pull had been extinguished and replaced by something else. She was far too beautiful, far too genuine, and far too innocent for the world. Meredith didn’t look Sam’s way as she took her usual seat to his left and set her books on her table.

Sam watched her take off her scarf and gloves and noticed the scratch he had inflicted on her right hand. Her thumb traced the healing wound. He looked up just as she glanced his way. Her gaze was expressionless. His eyes made their way to her lips and watched them part slowly. He swallowed hard, wanting to know what it would be like to kiss her. A thought he had wondered many times throughout the years.

Sam’s eyes met Meredith’s again. It was as if the room around them had silenced. He wanted to speak to her, but then again, he didn’t. He didn’t want Meredith to know what kind of person he was. When she had screamed his name, he was bewildered that she knew his name at all. Sam Michaels was just someone who sat near her in a classroom.

An elbow met the side of his arm, and the contact caused him to wince. Sam reluctantly turned his head to see Phil raking through his bag.

Sam, you got chewy? Phil asked.

No, Sam replied and returned his attention to Meredith.

To his disappointment, she was smiling at Tony Pascals. Sam glanced down to see his right hand clenched in a tight fist; his knuckles had turned a vibrant white. He relaxed his fist and examined his hand.

Yeah, I know. Mondays suck, but at least, we’re together, his English teacher, Miss Maddock, announced.

Sam reached over and grabbed his pen, hoping to ignore his need to see if Meredith Driessen had looked his way.

Beth: Sam, I’m sorry. I’m keeping it. Please understand.

The air was forced quickly out of his lungs. It was as if he’d been punched in the stomach. Keeping it meant more trouble, more pain. Beth couldn’t keep it. It had already destroyed his family. Sam rested his forehead against the wooden locker and hoped oxygen would enter his body.

Are you okay?

Her sweet voice had him turning his head. The cautious smile she gave him had him standing straight.

I’m fine, Sam replied.

Okay, Meredith said.

They stood in the empty hall. Silence surrounded them, just as it had at the river. Sam noticed the slight dimple in her cheek. Meredith pressed her lips together then nodded once as she walked past him. Sam quickly turned around to watch her ponytail sway with each step she made. The sunlight that passed through the glass door made Meredith’s blonde locks glow. Just like at the river when the morning rose.

Meredith, he called.

She stopped, waiting for a second before she turned to face him. Then she tilted her head at him. Yes, Sam?

Nerves succumbed him. He felt things around her. No one had made him feel emotions for a long time. Sam combed his fingers through his short brown hair, buying time in her presence just that little bit longer. He should thank her for stopping him. He didn’t want his mother to be alone. Not with Beth now in their lives forever.

Instead of thanking her, Sam asked, Why is your dog named Dutch?

Sam dropped his hand and closed his eyes tightly.

Stupid question.

When he opened his eyes, a smile slowly spread across Meredith’s lips. "My parents are Dutch. My papa wanted to call him Limburgse Vlaai."

I had no idea you were Dutch, Sam said, surprised.

Meredith shrugged a shoulder. You’ve never wanted to get to know me, Sam.

The sad glint that washed over her blue eyes made Sam feel guilty. He never thought Meredith knew him or would want to know him. She was smart, popular, and sweet. Loved by all. Everything about her was strikingly beautiful. What did Sam have? He was tall, like his father, and had plain brown eyes. He had no marks or characteristics making him different or stand out. He was Sam. To Meredith, he was more than likely the boy who tried to drown himself.

Why did your dad want to call your dog Limbergcee—that word?

Meredith let out a soft laugh. "Limburgse Vlaai. It’s, uh, my father’s favourite food from back home."

Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. A colour he wanted to see again and again.

His favourite food? Sam asked with a smile.

She nodded. It’s a Dutch pie with cherries or apricots.

This time, Sam laughed. Dutch was about to be named after a pie?

Meredith joined his laughter. "A delicious pie, if that helps. Mamma didn’t want to be calling out a dessert when Dutch went for a walk or a run. So she called him Dutch instead. We’ve caught Papa calling him Vlaai several times. He just loves pies."

Sam’s father didn’t like pies. He didn’t like many sweet things. Sam frowned. Since Beth’s news, his father hadn’t spoken to him. He had left, abandoning his wife and son. Embarrassment and pride broke families. Sam’s head fell, and he noticed Meredith reaching into the pocket of her blue skirt and pulling out a pair of woollen gloves.

I’m sorry, Meredith, Sam uttered once he’d looked up and met her eyes. I didn’t mean to scratch your hand like that.

Her face softened. You never have to be sorry, Sam.

His heart twisted at the genuine sweetness in her voice.

No, Meredith.

I’m always sorry.

For you, I’m sorry the most.

Sam shoved his hands in his pants pockets. Would you have really followed me if I had let go?

Meredith put on the left glove and then the right. Sam. She’d spoken so softly that he’d almost missed it.

Yes, Meredith?

She wrapped the scarf around her neck and took a deep breath. For you, Sam, I would never hesitate.

A smile graced her lips. Then she turned and walked out of the building, the light drawing her away from him.

chapter four

MEREDITH

Present

Samuel Michaels, Labor Party Speechwriter.

He did it, Meredith breathed as she held his business card.

The rain that fell started to spread the ink embedded in the card. She tilted her head back to look at the grey skies, letting the rain soak her. Seeing him brought all the memories back. Her heart had beat for the first time in years.

She felt.

Ignoring the strange sensation that consumed her, Meredith stared at the tracks to watch the raindrops pelting the wildflowers. They were beautiful and free. They could be whatever they wanted. Grow wherever they wanted. Sam had broken her heart. He had pushed her away, but she had fought back until he ended it and chose.

He chose Beth.

He chose his son …

Their son.

She looked at the card. He had stopped her from jumping. She wasn’t even sure if she was going to jump. He seemed so sure that she wouldn’t attempt it after he had left. Meredith slipped the limp card in her cardigan pocket. She looked around at the platform and took a step back behind the yellow line.

A few weeks after high school graduation, Meredith had moved to Rotterdam, South Netherlands, to live with her grandparents for a short time before moving out. Being away from her parents was tough, but being away from Dutch, her red border collie, was heartbreaking. Pictures and video messages weren’t enough. Each Christmas, she’d return and spend weeks with her parents and dog. She had never bumped into Sam during her visits. She had been careful and calculated. She didn’t want to see his son or the mother, Beth.

Meredith had accepted that she would come third or even fourth in Sam’s life. She had accepted the pregnancy after he had hidden it from her. She was determined to stand by his side, but he’d chosen to love Beth more.

The night she had discovered his abandoned car, she had searched desperately by the river for him. She wanted to save him, and if she couldn’t, she’d follow him until her last breath. For years, she wished he’d notice her, to be the receiver of his love, but she was just ‘the popular girl who everyone loved’ to him. She was more, but people had already subjected her to an image.

An image she thought Sam had never believed to be true.

But he had.

Meredith had taken two steps back before she turned around and walked into the station. Water dripped off every part of her as she made her way to the doors that would lead her out to the ramp.

Hey! a woman yelled.

Turning around, Meredith stared at a young woman with jet-black hair fastened in a ponytail.

Meredith glanced down and saw the puddles she’d made. I’m sorry.

The young woman tilted her head. Oh, I’m not yelling at you for that. It’s raining. I just wanted to see if you’re okay.

She nodded at the station worker. Fine, thank you, Meredith replied and then walked out through the electronic doors.

She took out the soaked business card as soon as she stood under the sheltered ramp. She held it between her fingers, and with the help of the wind produced by the high-speed passing train, she let the card fly.

I’m saving you, Sam.

chapter five

SAM

Seven years ago

It had been two weeks since Meredith last spoke to him. The only class they had together was English, and most times, he’d look her way and wonder what went through her mind. Sam wanted to explain why he was at the river and why he wanted death rather than life, but it meant someone knowing. It meant saying goodbye to a political career.

It meant accepting the future.

It means a future entwined with Beth’s.

Sam took out his Australian politics textbook and stared at it. His future had always been so clear. Become a minister. Change the world. Do some good. Make history. However, his life had diverted. His life no longer followed the plan.

My favourite world leaders were Winston Churchill and Woodrow Wilson. Truman is up there, too, and even Bob Hawke.

He craned his head to see Meredith standing next to him. She took the textbook out of his hand and studied it. The way she pursed her lips had him fascinated and drawn, more so than when he first laid eyes on her at thirteen.

Why Woodrow Wilson? he asked.

Meredith looked up and raised her brow. The man’s principles are what based the League of Nations.

An unbelievable chuckle escaped Sam. He was impressed. The League of Nations failed.

She handed him back the book. Sam placed it in his bag and pulled the bag out of his locker.

Some things have to fail for a better understanding. That’s why the UN is so successful. Countries learnt from their mistakes when it comes to handling international affairs.

"What are you? A politics