No, this made sense. A clean break between two adults who understood the logic of this choice.
‘If you’re busy, I can ask Bindi.’ She gave him the out, hoping he wouldn’t take it.
‘Actually, that’d be great. I want to get a start on this new dish for the restaurant and once I’m in creative mode, it’s easier if I’m not disturbed.’
She refrained from saying that ten minutes ago, before Jason’s arrival, he’d been about to get creative with her in the bedroom.
‘No worries,’ she said, sounding ridiculously perky while her heart ached. ‘I’ll be in touch. About the restaurant campaign,’ she added, in case he thought they’d remain friends.
‘Sure. Have a safe trip home.’
‘Thanks.’
Hating how her evening—and life—had unravelled to this point, Elora opened the back door, unprepared for his arms to wrap around her from behind.
He didn’t speak as he held her, resting his chin on top of her head and hugging her so fiercely it brought tears to her eyes.
‘I’ll miss you,’ he murmured, spinning her around to press a too-brief kiss against her lips before releasing her and striding down the hallway away from the kitchen.
He didn’t hear her whisper, ‘I’ll miss you too.’
CHAPTER
46
A week later, Ferne’s ankle had improved dramatically. Though she still wore the walking boot, she could move around with less pain and when she took it off to shower, she could bear more weight on that leg. She’d ditched the painkillers too.
Pity pharmaceutical companies didn’t make an analgesic for the pain of broken hearts.
There hadn’t been a day since Taj had walked out of her apartment that she hadn’t thought about him. Rehashing every word he said to her. Admiring his fortitude in revealing his feelings. Mentally kicking herself for handling the situation so poorly.
Worse, he’d been right. She hadn’t changed. She still viewed the world—and every man in it—with mistrust. With Mac, she’d put her faith in the wrong man, and he’d tainted her with his callous indifference to the point that she’d learned to treat others the same way. She held her friends at arm’s length, never fully revealing herself to them; she’d become wary in business; and she didn’t tell Cruz the truth when she should’ve. He’d deserved to know about his father’s hidden life at the time she’d discovered it. Maybe it wouldn’t have been such a shock for him to learn about Roger’s affection for Mac if she’d told him.
She’d texted her son a few times over the last week, but he’d rarely responded straight away, leaving her staring at her phone, waiting for those three magical little dots to appear to indicate she wasn’t completely alone in this world. When he eventually responded, the message had been brief, about him being swamped, trying to get the restaurant ready for opening and handling the admin side of the farm, which she’d done for years.
He still hadn’t responded to her text from earlier this morning and rather than brooding over his lack of contact, she’d been toying with an idea: What if she spent the rest of her time recuperating on the farm?
She could lend a hand and have a real, honest, face-to-face conversation with Cruz about everything: how he was coping, how he really felt being back, how he’d been dealing with the emotional fallout from his father’s secrets.
In her resentment at being tethered to the farm for years and her desperation to escape the place, she’d abandoned the one person who needed her support the most. What kind of mother did that make her?
And the way she’d treated Taj, inserting a business question, asking for a favour while she’d been in the process of hurting him … awful.
She’d picked up the phone several times over the last week, wanting to call Taj and apologise. But, true to form, she’d quashed her impulse each time, using well-worn excuses like ‘he needs space’ and ‘time apart will give us perspective’. She’d used the same self-talk in her marriage and where had it got her? Living a loveless lie and hiding her unhappiness beneath a brittle veneer of fake smiles and endless volunteering.
Taj deserved better. Heck,shedeserved better, and before she could second-guess herself, she picked up her phone, brought up her recent call list and tapped on Taj’s name.
Predictably, he didn’t pick up and her call went through to voicemail, so she took a deep breath and launched into the spiel she hoped would convince him she did have feelings for him and hated how she’d treated him.
‘Hey, Taj, it’s me. Sorry it’s taken me so long to call but I’m a chicken and felt so bad about everything that I didn’t know what to say. Still don’t, to be honest, but I need you to know this. You’re right. I was judgemental and walked away from the best thing to ever happen to me because of it. I never stopped thinking about you or kicking myself for settling for a man so wrong for me because I was almost forty and wanted a kid. Not leaving the farm with you is the biggest regret of my life, along with breaking up with you the first time. I guess my cynicism couldn’t believe you’d reappeared in my life now, let alone allow me to contemplate you’d want us to live together so soon. I’m not an impulsive person, never have been. But I’m trying to trust my feelings more, and I do have feelings for you. I’m heading back to Kinstead for a while, but when I return to Melbourne, I hope you’ll have a coffee with me? Try to re-establish some kind of friendship, and see what develops from there? Bye.’
As she hung up, she cringed at the abrupt ending to her rambling message. But she couldn’t end with ‘I love you’, because that kind of declaration sounded crazy after the way she’d flung his feelings back in his face when he revealed she’d always been the one for him. She doubted he’d listen to her voicemail let alone want to grab that coffee in the not too distant future. Though at least she’d tried and could now head back to the farm with some semblance of peace.
Though before she left, she had to call Bette too.
Her friend picked up on the fifth ring, and Ferne heard loud traffic in the background.
‘Have I caught you at a bad time, Bette?’
