Our combined worlds stopped spinning that day.
We went our separate ways, and up to a week ago, I had only heard snippets of how his life continued without me. My mum would share an update on the Burlingtons that I pretended not to listen to or show no interest in, when, in reality, I was salivating over every morsel.
One thing she failed to mention wasthe blonde.Max’s mother, I’m assuming. Stepmother, perhaps.
I don’t know why I’m surprised, because Hendricks always did the right thing. Growing up without a father left a huge hole for him, I know that much. He said she wanted to keep the baby, and he would have done everything he could to make it work with her.
I haven’t asked anyone for confirmation. Not my mum, not Celeste. I don’t know if my heart can take any more disappointment if I make it real.
My first kiss wasn’t with Hendricks.
Neither was the first time I had sex.
But I always held on to the hope that we were somehow waiting for each other, and the humiliation of it burns. Of course, Hendricks isn’t single. When has he ever been? Why would he be?
The blondehas the future I always thought I’d have. If that wasn’t cruel enough, I’ll be reminded as such every Monday to Friday during term time until my contract finishes. I’m counting down the days.
I groan again. “What a fucking mess.”
Oxford lifts his head as he hears footsteps coming toward the back door, and my mum appears with a coffee in one hand and a plate piled high with an entire loaf’s worth of toast and marmalade in the other.
“You’re up early.”
My stomach rumbles as the scents of toast, hot butter, and citrussy sugar hit my nose, and I pick up a slice. “Couldn’t sleep.”
After I shift along the bench to make space, she sits down next to me. The warmth of her body provides extra protection against the nip of the morning.
“Are you okay, love? You’ve been quiet this week.”
“I’m fine, Mum. Just tired,” I reply, ignoring the urge to cry. Maybe I’m getting my period.
“Probably the weather. Not like the wall-to-wall sunshine Sydney has right now.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Not quite.”
“We should have come to visit you this Christmas. It would have been less dramatic.”
I manage to laugh with her and pass my crust to Oxford. He gently takes it between his lips and chews noisily, then snuffles up to me for the next piece.
“How’s Dad this morning?” It might be early, but I know he’s been awake for hours.
Mum rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh. “He’s fine. Grumbling away already, but I’ve taken him tea and toast. Now I get to enjoy some peace and quiet.”
I chuckle through another bite. My dad was in the hospital for a week when he broke his leg. It was pinned in two places, and I truly believe the doctors were glad to see the back of him when we picked him up. My dad is not one of those people who are good at sitting still. Therefore, any type of forced recouperation is as painful for those around the patient as it is for the patient themselves.
If he could have it his way, he’d have been out on the farm using his crutches the next day. Only after a stern warning from the specialist that he would walk with a cane for the rest of his life if he didn’t recover properly has kept him from leaving the house every day except to attend his physio sessions. As it is, my mum and I have driven him up to the farmyard most afternoons just so he can check it’s being managed properly.
And therein lies the problem with being a militantcontrol freak who doesn’t trust anyone to do a job as well as they do it themselves. His problem became my problem when my mum begged me to stay in Valentine Nook and help. Probably because she didn’t want to deal with his grumpiness by herself, and I don’t blame her.
But the reasons I agreed had nothing to do with my parents.
“He’ll be back on his feet soon. It’s only been six weeks. He has four left to go before the pins are out, then he can start walking properly.”
She blows on her coffee and takes a long sip. “Thank God for that day. I’m so grateful you were able to stay and help out, love.”
I drop my head on her shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
The blanket slips from around me, and I pull it back up. The sun has fully breached the horizon now, and we sit in silence listening to the sound of the birds waking up and Oxford’s soft snoring.
