Luke looks down at his hands for a moment, jaw tense, then adds, ‘But after the dust settled, I realised I needed space to decide what I wanted.Not what the farm needs, or what my parents would’ve expected.’He looks back up at me.‘Just … what I want.For once.And it turns out,’ he says, voice lower now, ‘what I want isn’t the life I thought I had to settle for.But I had to get there on my own.Without the noise.Without the heat of the moment.’
I bite my bottom lip, tasting regret and cheap lip gloss.‘I had some shit to figure out as well.’
He tilts his head, waiting.‘Such as?’
I pause.Not because I don’t know the answer, but because it still scares me to say it out loud.‘Me,’ I say quietly.I don’t let myself hesitate this time, ploughing ahead.‘I spent my entire twenties terrified of turning into my mum,’ I explain, hands twisted in my lap.‘Every decision I made – my job, the way I dated, the way I didn’t date – it was all designed to keep me safe from becoming her.To protect myself from the drama.The instability.The emotional firestorms.’
I glance up at him.He doesn’t say anything.He just listens.Like this version of me – the messy, raw one – is someone he’s been waiting to meet.
‘So, I built this life.On paper, it was fine.A job that paid well.Friends.Cute apartment.But it was all …’ I pause.‘Surface level.I kept things at arm’s length.I convinced myself that love – real, inconvenient, vulnerable love – was a weakness.Something that ruined people.’
He’s still watching me.Like the words matter.Like I matter.
‘And then I met you,’ I continue.‘And it was … I don’t know.
It was as if someone walked into my life and turned all the lights on.And it scared the shit out of me.Because you saw everything.The good, the bad, the bits I’d tried to hide even from myself.’I exhale.‘So, I panicked.I pushed you away.I ran.I told myself I was protecting my peace or some self-help crap like that.But really, I was being a coward.’
I look at him now.Let him see the wreckage and the rebuild.‘I was forced to look in the mirror one day, and I realised Iwasher.My mum.Not in the obvious ways.But in the lying.The pretending.The fear.’I smile, soft and a little sad.‘Just with better skincare and less wine.’
His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t laugh.His eyes are too full.
‘I needed to know who I was without someone else telling me who to be,’ I finish.‘I had to figure out if there was a version of me that I liked.’
There’s a long, weighted pause.
Luke leans forward slightly, elbows resting on the table between us.‘So,’ he says, voice warm and careful, ‘who is Jamie?’
I stare at him, surprised by the question.Then I think about it.
‘She hates running,’ I start, the corners of my mouth lifting.‘Loves horses.Has a weird second toe that’s longer than the big one.I don’t have the patience for pottery.Never ask me to go surfing and I have zero interest in cooking dinner every night for the rest of my life – it feels like a trap.’
Luke grins.‘Still hate manual cars?’
‘Violently,’ I say.‘Almost irrationally.’
‘Anything else?’
‘I’m terrified of true crime docos.But if there’s a British narrator it’s somehow more tolerable.’
He lets out a low laugh and I breathe, lighter than I’ve felt in months.
‘Okay, your turn.Who’s Luke?’
He leans back, grinning like he’s thought about this.‘Farm boy.Loves kelpies.Misses his mum’s cooking.Can fix a fence in under five minutes but still can’t fold a fitted sheet.’
I snort.‘So, you’re perfect, is what you’re saying.’
‘Skip would argue otherwise,’ he deadpans.
And then we’re laughing.Not the careful, guarded kind.The deep, full body, I-really-missed-you kind.The kind that tastes like forgiveness and relief.
I swirl the last inch of my drink, letting the fruit settle at the base of the glass.
We linger at the edge of the moment, our drinks nearly finished, the sky above Brookie’s fading from lavender to navy.The fairy lights twinkle overhead as I catch Jodie wink at me from the bar.
I twist the edge of my napkin between my fingers.‘How’s the farm?’
Luke smiles into his glass.‘Good.Ella and Darcy are holding down the fort while I’m here.Got the rain we needed, finally.Cutlet’s joined the herd.’
