I open my mouth to thank him, but he’s already ended the call.
Setting my phone down on the desk, I breathe a sigh of relief.
For the rest of the day, I try not to think of Kyle—not this new, mature Kyle, nor the one from my youth. Over the years,my thoughts of him have decreased from being so frequent and painful while in prison to every-now-and-then after I met Chris.
Still, I have always wished the best for him. If I’d wanted to find out where he was, I could’ve—Krystal, Kyle’s youngest sister, still lives in the old Davies house in the Pines—but I’ve never wanted to. I let go of Kyle somewhere between year four and five of my prison term, and it has served me well. My life has turned out better than I ever expected, and I intend to keep it that way.
By the time 5:30 rolls around, my thoughts are finally under control and I feel ready to head home. Yelling out goodbye to Kate, my floor manager, I grab my phone and car keys, then switch off the office light. As I head across the showroom floor, my phone pings with a text.
Unknown number:It was great seeing you today, Bren. Can we pls talk? It’s Kyle, by the way.
My feet slow, then I come to a complete stop, dread wrapping tightly around my chest. Of course, Kyle would have my number. He undoubtably has the showroom address too—it’s all on the business card I sent to James Johnson with the initial quote. This really fucks up my plan to pretend this morning never happened.
I delete the text, lock up the building, then slip into the front seat of my Ute. And sit. And smoke. And sit. And smoke.
There’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that I should tell Chris that I’ve seen Kyle. Especially since Chris has heard the whole damn saga in graphic detail over the years and knows how deeply it affected me. Well, that’s not entirely true. Chris doesn’tknow about Tiffany, or about Ethan’s existence, let alone how he came to be. That’s something that remains between me, Kyle, and Tiffany, and always will. Besides, I don’t want to cause any unnecessary friction in our marriage.
We’ve been together for nine years, married six, and things are as close to perfect as a relationship can be. So why risk upsetting Chris if I’m never going to see Kyle Davies—I mean Johnson—again? I have this under control and the best thing is to keep this morning’s events to myself.
When I walk into the kitchen fifteen minutes later to the delicious smell of dinner and my husband’s smiling face, I know I’ve made the right decision.
“Hey sweetheart, how was your day?” Chris asks.
I plant a kiss on his cheek. “Yeah, it was good,” I reply, leaning back against the kitchen bench. “You remember that lady Leanne Radcliffe? I did her bathroom reno last month. Well, she recommended us to a friend, and they wanna main bathroomandan ensuite.”
“Nothing like word-of-mouth advertising. How did your meeting go this morning with the luxury job?”
My heart quickens at the prospect of lying. It doesn’t sit well with me. “Yeah, it was great. But I’m gonna give it to Jeff to head up. I think he deserves a shot. He’s been workin’ real hard lately.”
“That’s a great idea.” Chris squeezes my bicep before turning back to the stove. “Dinner will be ready in five if you want to go wash up.”
“Smells great, and I’m starved,” I say, backing out of the kitchen.
Upstairs in our bedroom, I change into some trackpants and a t-shirt, then take a piss. While washing my hands, my phone pings on the bed. I briefly consider leaving it until after dinner,but then grab it on my way out, freezing when I see the same number from earlier.
Unknown number:Bren do you have time to grab a coffee this week?
Slowly lowering myself onto the bed, I consider my options. One, I could keep ignoring Kyle’s texts until he gives up. Two, I could answer him and tell him to fuck off. Or three, block the number. Honestly, I’m not surprised Kyle thinks it’s okay for two exes, both now married, to meet up for coffee.
Hesitating, I wonder if he thinks I changed my name to escape my prison record, rather than because I got married. Not that it would make a difference, because Kyleismarried. On the odd chance that’s what he’s thinking, I give him the benefit of the doubt and reply.
Me:Appreciate the offer man, but we’re both married. Jeff will be handling your bathroom reno. Best lose my number.
I press send, then immediately read it back, worried I’m being too polite. Not ten seconds later, there’s another text.
Kyle:I wasn’t asking you on a date. Just thought it would be nice for two old friends to catch up.
Is he fucking serious? Two old friends! Feeling unbelievably insulted, I delete the message thread then switch off my phone.
After dinner, Chris and I settle on the sofa to watch a few episodes ofThe Office. It’s his favourite show because it reminds him of the people he works with. Taking my eyes off the screen, I watch Chris’s face light up with a smile, then he bursts into laughter, throwing his head back at Dwight making a fool of himself. There’s a lightness to Chris that I can never truly knowor understand, but, when I’m with him, it’s like I get to borrow it for a while.
When we were first dating, I was scared of fucking everything up; I was wound up too tight and on constant alert. Chris had this way of lifting the darkness and allowing me to forget. Around him, I began to feel like a different person. Someone who could bury the past and start anew. And that’s what I did.
I’m so damn thankful for him. I lean over and kiss his cheek.
“What’s that for?” he asks, squeezing my thigh.
“Because I love you and I know how damn lucky I am to have you as my husband.”
