Lime Tree Hill (A Reluctant Kiss #1)

42. Missing You

42

MISSING YOU

Across the drive, Luka and two other guys waited in Luka’s pickup as Mitch packed his gear onto the tray. He shut the lid and turned to look at her. “Gotta go. I still think you’d be better off at your folks. I know Ned’s close by, but…”

Lost for words, Tayla nodded. What could she say at this late stage in the game? If she’d wanted to confront him, she should have done so last night. Instead, she’d let him make love to her until his deception and the blood-red G-string lost their significance.

Then again, in her book, confrontation was overrated. Just like judgment and accusation and trying to win an argument. All pointless exercises.

Mitch cupped her face in his hands, his thumb brushing away the single tear trickling down her cheek. “Hey, it’s okay. You’ll be fine.”

She sniffed. Bowed her head. Scuffed her feet in the gravel.

He drew her in for a hug and held her for several seconds.

“Hurry up, Mitch,” Luka yelled out the driver’s side window. “Just kiss the life out of her. We won’t look.”

“Right.” He laughed, then kissed her softly on the lips, his fingers twisting in her hair. When he pulled away, his expression was full of warmth. “Don’t miss me too much.”

As Tayla watched them drive away, she held on tight to the notion that this didn’t have to be hard. With Mitch away, she’d have time to reflect, to take that pause. She stood at the edge of the driveway, tears threatening to spill as Luka took a right onto the highway, her husband riding shotgun. In another blink, they were gone.

She stood for a while longer. When Ned approached from the packing shed, Tayla wiped her eyes with the back of a hand before greeting him with a forced smile.

“Is that hay fever affecting you again?” he asked.

Tayla laughed despite herself.

He put his arm around her shoulders. “Hey, come on. He’ll be back before you know it.”

How could she tell Ned what was really troubling her? Mitch might only be away for a week and a half, but missing him wasn’t the issue. He wanted her out.

“I’ve just been down at the farm gate store.” Ned handed her a large brown envelope. “The girls asked me to deliver this. It arrived for you a couple of days ago, but someone filed it beside the coffee machine, and they forgot all about it. I hope it’s nothing important.”

Tayla stared at the envelope in her hand: Tayla Harrington, Lime Tree Hill , scrawled in black lettering across the front. She never received mail, especially at the orchard, and if someone she knew had sent it, they would’ve addressed it to Tayla Whitman. “Thanks.”

“Right. I better get this milk to Maggie. Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t.”

Back upstairs, she made herself an espresso, then sat at the kitchen island while the envelope lay in wait. She ran her fingers under the flap and pulled out several photographs.

The top one set the scene. It was of Mitch, walking along the beach with a woman—if Tayla wasn’t mistaken, the woman from Fig Leaf. In the next frame, he rested his hand on her shoulder, and the next, they smiled at one another over coffee. As she flicked through the pile, each photo told the same story.

One of deceit.

She studied the prints again, frowning at the look on Mitch’s face as he interacted with the woman as if they were more than friends. She turned them over, but there was no date stamp or any other information.

Tayla sat back in her chair, her thoughts in overdrive until a phone alert startled her. She stuffed the pictures back into the envelope and pressed the Messenger icon.

Hi. This is Prue Preston, Mitch’s friend. I’ll be in Clifton Falls on Wednesday next week and was wondering if we could catch up. I’d rather not come to the orchard. There’s a seat on the boardwalk in front of the Scented Garden. Shall we say around 12:30?

Tayla reread the message. What could Prue possibly want to talk about? How much she loved Mitch and wanted him back? Prue had made her feelings perfectly clear the night of CeCe’s party and had been blatantly unkind about it.

Hesitant, Tayla held her phone in a tight grip until another message popped up.

Please be there. It’s important.

What on earth?

She moved to the living room, curled up on the sofa and stared into space. At some point, she’d pack a few things and drive into town, stay at her parents’ place as Mitch had advised. But for now, she just sat. Existed.

Tayla moped through the day without accomplishing anything. When her text alert chimed just on dusk, she considered ignoring it, but then her dad’s face flashed through her mind. What if her mother needed her? She picked up her phone from the coffee table and unlocked it.

Mitch: Bumpy flight into Queenstown. Missing you already. You were beautiful this morning. I can’t stop thinking about you…us. Anyway, we’re off out for dinner. Call you tomorrow xx

Great!

With her thoughts in turmoil, it was two days before Tayla had the energy to haul a suitcase from the top shelf of the closet and pack her things. The room looked the same as the day she moved in, but so much had changed since then. Smiles, tears, moments of connection, and now…disconnection.

She’d spent those two days in consultation with her inner self. The jacket and panties she could rationalize, even the photographs—because when she’d studied them again with an open mind, the intimacy between Mitch and the woman wasn’t necessarily sexual. But his phone call with Luka had become an all-consuming weight on her chest that she just couldn’t budge.

And the more Tayla tried to dislodge that weight, the more stupid and na?ve she felt. She’d trusted him and had done so completely.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Tayla replied to Prue with a confirmation of day and time, then second-guessed her motives, her reasoning .

True to his word, Mitch had called just like he said he would, and as the world spun around her, they’d spoken of the mundane—Mr. Edward, the orchard, the restaurant where he’d eaten dinner—as if he had no secrets and she had no doubts.

Tayla left Lime Tree Hill for Clifton Falls on the edge of dusk, but as she drove the Eastern Pacific Highway, nothing about the journey inspired her. Not the stillness of the ocean, nor the rolling hillsides bathed in the shadows of sunset, not even the apple trees bursting with maturing fruit that dotted the route. By the time she reached Seaview Road, one thought drowned out all others.

She still hadn’t learned to surf.

The guest room at her parents’ place was tiny, with just enough space for a double bed, nightstand, and a tub chair. And as she opened the window against the stale air, she felt confined. Suffocated. Rejected.

Even so, their condo felt more like home now. Family photos hung on the walls, and vibrant pieces of art enlivened the otherwise bland decor. She wished her parents were here. Her love of solitude seemed to have waned of late.

Tayla pulled a loaf of bread from the freezer and put two slices into the toaster. The only peanut butter in the pantry was the smooth type laced with sugar that her father loved, but it would have to do.

She slathered it onto the toast and had just taken a bite when her phone lit up with a text.

Mitch: Boarding the boat at Te Anau Downs in the morning. Cooler today. How are you and Edward?

She took another bite of her toast and moved to the dining table, unsure whether she should reply. Her fingers hesitant on the keypad, she typed her response.

Tayla: Fine. Moved into Mum and Dad’s for now. Edward’s with Ned. He’s his usual unaffected self. Edward, I mean, not Ned.

Mitch: That’s good. Have a peaceful sleep without me. Miss you. So much xx

Tayla stared at his message. How long would it take to sleep peacefully without him? Days? Weeks? Months? And what did ‘that’s good’ mean?

The following day, Tayla returned to the orchard, and after a brief visit to Maggie and Ned’s to see Mr. Edward, she cleaned the loft from top to bottom, removing all traces of her presence.

As she stood at the kitchen island, the insanely large clock ticking away the minutes, she spied a rubber ball of Edward’s under the dining table and let her bravado slip. She thought of his chubby, squat body and those pleading, nut-brown eyes, and knew she would miss him terribly. But then, she’d miss many things about this life she’d once scorned. Her husband. Her lover. Her friend.

Earlier in the day, the office of Shand Shand and Harrow had called to say Simon Harrow wanted to see her. I’ll get my lawyer to sort it out. She’d made an appointment for Thursday.

Later, Tim called to suggest they catch a movie, but Tayla couldn’t stomach acting the part of ‘everything’s okay.’ She’d been there, done that a thousand times, in a thousand different ways.

Life would be okay again, but first, she needed time to do its thing. Her energy levels had plummeted, and without Mitch, her days suddenly held no purpose.

Welcome to the final lesson of love—that of the lovesick teenager.

Full circle right there.

Tayla entered his office and tugged the loft key off her key ring then placed it on his desk. When she walked down the stairs and pulled the door shut behind her, it was all she could do to get in her car and drive away.

In the days that followed, Tayla’s plans to keep busy fell flat. She made it to work and home again, but apart from that, she could hardly bother to eat and shower. Even yoga took a back seat to her malaise.

That weekend, she opened her Facebook to see Mitch tagged in a post. She scanned the pictures from the boys’ night out in Queenstown before they headed to the Milford Track. There were only a handful, but in the first, a grinning Mitch had his arm around some girl, and in the next, she was kissing him on the cheek with hashtags to match: #oldfriends #freedom #finderskeepers .

Tayla sat with her eyes glued to the screen. It seemed Mitch was celebrating his # liberation in style.

Tim: Where are you?

Tayla: At Mum and Dad’s. They’re in Auckland visiting the grandkids.

Tim: Why aren’t you at the orchard?

Tayla: I have no idea. I’m confused.

Tim: You want company?

Tayla: Yes please.

Tim: Shall I bring wine or chocolate?

Tayla: Both.