Three p.m. On the dot.
Threes are my sign for August. I always take them as him shoving me in the direction I need to go, to follow my gut.
So I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trusting that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
Chapter twenty-three
Sunday night dinners with my family used to be one of my favourite nights of the week. It’s one of the few things that brings me peace. Being at The Wayside keeps me busy—it gives me purpose and a sense of achievement. Working out and tending to my garden helps me see progress—it quiets dark thoughts and gives me a sense of order and routine. Group therapy and volunteering with Life Vine heal my mind, unleashing the burden, giving me peace that I’m helping others. No matter how small something may seem to you, the person on the other side of kindness could feel it so much bigger.
But now, Isabelle has entered my life. She brings excitement in a way I didn’t think was possible. A sense of happiness that feels free and without obligation. But then there’s the side of desire she evokes. The absolute need that never feels like enough. Isabelle is the last thing I was ready for.
Add to the fact that she’s the first person I’ve talked to about August, apart from his mum, and I’m a goner. I’ve always felt too scared, too broken, to bring him up before, but Isabelle eases the judgement. She helps me find a kind of strength that I’ve left dormant for so long. She makes me feel brave to utter the words I’ve only said in my mind. I think it’s because she has the same effortlessly freeing charm that August had. In a way, I feel connected to him through her. When I’m with her, her presencefeels like a hand holding mine, guiding me into the light, where I’m free from the grief that binds me.
It’s been a month since we slept together, and just like I knew it would, everything has changed. An incomprehensible level of unfiltered euphoria. Completion. Weightless freedom. Every week, I count down the days until I see her. Tuesday nights, where we play and explore at Nella Notte, weekends, where we flirt at The Wayside, and every night in between, when I let myself into her apartment after work to feed the beast that can’t live without her.
This weekend, she’s been spending time with her family, helping her sister and brother-in-law move into their new house.
She sent me endless selfies of her with her family, including her baby niece. I can’t believe how all the women in her family share those blonde curls. It’s fucking adorable.
I’m trying to discreetly text Isabelle under the table, since I’ve barely been able to talk to her all day. I’m sitting at the end with Grandpa beside me, the least nosy of the bunch. Caleb, Beth, and Mason are on the other side of the table, so I think I’m safe from suspicion, which is good, because the second another text comes through from Iz, I can’t help but check it. Like now.
BUTTERCUP:
Finally home! I’m so tired. My feet hurt. Do you think ice cream is an acceptable dinner?
I lean back in my chair so I can read my phone under the table and bring up a food delivery app, searching for a pizza place. I know from our messages this week that a veggie supreme is her favourite. I send the order to her house for immediate delivery and quickly shove my phone back in my pocket.
“Gage, how’s your new club coming along?” Aunt Hettie asks from the head of the table. She spends most of her time in thenorthern part of the state, where the H&H Mining sites are, only coming back to the city every few weeks.
“Good. We had a team come in to recover all the features we want to retain from the existing building. Siteworks for where the extension is going will start next week.”
“Excellent.” She nods, then picks up her wine glass. “When do you think you’ll open?”
“We’re hoping within twelve months. So far, we’re on track for sooner.”
“Lee’s team are great with their schedules, and always top quality,” Mason says across from me.
“They’ve been really organised with everything. Thanks for setting that up.”
“Happy to help, brother.” Mason smiles and raises his drink in cheers. “And speaking of the club, when is someone going to give me Isabelle’s number?”
Apparently, my brother has a death wish.
“Pfft. Forget it, Mase, she’s way out of your league,” says Beth.
“Whaaat?” Mason shrieks. “I’m in everyone’s league.”
Caleb snorts. “I think you mean pants.”
“Oh, get off your high horse. You were the same before Lex,” Mason argues.
Caleb’s nose scrunches. “We do not speak of that time.”
“Doesn’t make it less true, Mr Double Standard,” says Mason, leaning into Caleb’s face.
“Drama queen.”
Mason gasps, with a hand to his chest. “Four eyes!”
