Ella laughs harder.‘I would’ve paid good money to see that.’
‘Sadly, no livestream.’
She quietens for a second.Then, teasingly, she says, ‘Abbey told me you’re on a man ban.’
‘Confirmed,’ I say, flopping back onto my towel and closing my eyes.‘It’s only me and Derek now.’
Ella snorts.‘Derek the vibrator?’
‘Best relationship I’ve ever had.No complaints.Quiet.Efficient.Always finishes the job.’
She cackles.‘You always did have a thing for dependable men with powerful motors.’
I laugh, but it comes out a little thin.The joke lands too close to somewhere tender.I roll onto my side, digging my elbow into the towel to stop being ambushed by the memory of Luke’s stupid grin and the way he teased me when he found out about Derek.
I push the thought down.Deep.Then I clear my throat.‘How are you?’
The pivot is abrupt.And necessary.
Ella pauses, then exhales as if she’s been waiting for someone to ask.‘Motherhood sucks,’ she says bluntly.‘But it’s also … amazing.Weirdly, stupidly amazing.I’ve never slept less, cried more, or loved harder in my life.It’s a headfuck.’
‘That sounds impossible.’
‘And yet,’ she says, ‘it’s true.Who knew feeding a human with my boobs and crying over nappy ads would be so fulfilling?’
I smile.‘How’s Darcy handling it?’
‘He’s good.Great, actually.Sometimes I look at him holding Daisy and I feel like my heart’s going to explode out of my chest.It’s a version of love I didn’t know existed.It’s disgusting.’
‘Ugh,’ I say, dragging my fingers through the warm sand.‘You’re disgusting.’
‘I know.I hate me too.’
There’s a lull.Then Ella asks, ‘What other weird hobbies have you picked up during your self-love pilgrimage?’
I start listing them off.
‘Pottery – disaster.My mug collapsed and Abbey made a clay dildo.True crime docos – too many abused animals.Rock climbing – I’m terrified of heights.Bookstores – nice, but I keep buying books I don’t read.Run club – it should be illegal.Surfing – clearly a bust.’I take a deep breath and sit up a little.Brushing hair out of my face, I add, ‘But I’ve been riding.’
‘Horses?’
I scoff.‘Yeah.I’ve had a few lessons at a place in Moore Park.’
Ella sounds interested now.‘And?’
‘And … it’s good.It’s really good.There’s this mare named Stella, and she’s kind but doesn’t take shit, and the instructor, Ava, is this tiny, retired war general in disguise, and it’s slow and grounding and … I don’t know.It feels nice.’
I don’t realise I’m smiling until I stop talking and my cheeks ache a little.
Ella’s quiet for a moment before saying, ‘It sounds like you love it.’
‘I don’t know aboutlove.But it’s something.’
Then, without warning, Ella murmurs, ‘He asked about you.’
The air goes still.
My fingers go still.
