CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Breck
I walk along the harbour, a coffee in each hand—pondering if I should’ve ordered them iced. The transition from Tahoe’s winter to Sydney’s summer has been an adjustment. It’s a constant reminder that we’re nowhere near the place we found solace the last three months. It’s not just the sweltering temperatures that have been an adjustment. Everything here feels both old and new.
The house is the same yet different. It’s still the house we brought Willow home from the hospital to, that we lived nearly nine years of our lives in.
Willow and I are the ones who’ve changed, moved into a new phase of our lives.
It took me less than a minute of standing in the master bedroom to know I’d need a new bed. Not just a new mattress, but a whole new bedroom set—and soon. Five nights in the guest room is plenty, thanks.
“Hey.” Wes’s voice pulls me out of my head as I see him sitting on the concrete sea wall that lines the harbour.
He stands, stretching his right leg, the scar from the crash just visible under the hem of his shorts, and grabs his cup from my hand. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since they picked us up at the airport on Sunday. Both he and Joss left on trips with Qantas the next day. Willow and I have been on our own to get settled which has been both a good thing and the worst thing.
He claps me on the back, studying me as he steps back. “How’re you doing, brother?”
I wince internally at his use of the word. We’ve always been that close, our relationship that easy. But it’s hard for me to reconcile our relationship with the one I had with Rory—his sister —that he knows nothing about.
“I’ve been better,” I say honestly, and he purses his lips. I don’t have the energy to pretend all is fine and good when it’s not.
“That was a stupid question. I’m sorry. I wish we could’ve been here this week.”
“No worries, mate, it’s fine. We’re going to have to figure out this whole get back to real life thing sooner or later.” I shrug, looking out at the water. I sit down and dangle my legs over the side of the concrete wall, picking up my coffee just for something to do with my hands.
“Yeah, but still. How’s Willow handling being back?” he asks, taking a seat next to me. We stare out at the city that’s been my home for so long, a view that’s brought me peace and comfort for years.
The Harbour Bridge is to our left and the Opera House sits to our right. There are yachts bobbing in the water directly in front of us, and I wonder for a second what it would be like to get on one and just set sail for the horizon.
“She’s trying. School’s been weird. She missed a month of time with her class, so even though she’s not behind, she feels like she’s on the outside.” I squeeze my neck, feeling the sharp prickle of hair there. I cut it the day after we got back, feeling like I needed to change something I could control. “I worried this would happen when we extended our vacation, but neither of us was ready to come back at the end of January. We’re paying the price for that now.”
He just nods and drinks his coffee, giving me space to continue.
“I think the kids are saying stuff to her about Talia too, but she’s being vague about it. The moms at pickup this week have all been pleasant. You know, in the we’re going to start talking about you as soon as you turn your back way.”
“That’s shit, man, I’m sorry. I can pick her up next week if you want.”
I shake my head. “I can handle it. It just makes me wonder what they’re saying, what their kids are hearing, and what they might say to Willow. She’s doing her best, putting on a brave face, but I don’t want her to have to do that.”
“If I can help somehow, just let me know. I don’t have another trip until Thursday.” He looks away and continues. “I talked to Rory this morning.”
“Yeah?” I keep my eyes locked on the water too, afraid they’ll give away how my heart lurched at the sound of her name.
“Yeah, she showed me around her new place. It’s pretty nice. Did she tell you she went down to part-time at the resort?”
“What? No.” I swing my gaze to his and find him studying me.
“Yeah, a couple days after you left. I guess she was planning to quit outright, but they offered her the option.” He shrugs. “I always liked her boss. Anyway, I haven’t properly thanked you for helping her. I know I was unsure about the whole situation when you guys first told me, but I’m man enough to eat crow when I need to, and you both proved me wrong.”
“It was all her, man. I helped with some of the finer points of the business side of things, but she’s got all the talent to back it up. If anything,” I say, working to keep my voice even, “she helped me more. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay her for all she did for us.”
Wes raises an eyebrow, and I keep going. “It felt good to be back in the saddle, building a business from scratch. I remember those days with Adventure Chasers, and they were the best. Exhausting but exhilarating. Helping her revived that drive in me, and though I’m unsure what that might turn into here, I don’t feel as stuck as I did when I left.”
I don’t go into how she helped me to feel less stuck in other areas of my life too. Or how I can’t go a night without dreaming of her in my bed, my arms.
“That’s incredible, mate,” he says, and I could almost take his words as a response to my unspoken ones.
But they’re not. He doesn’t know about us, and he doesn’t need to. There’s seven thousand miles of space that dictated the end to that relationship. I was supposed to leave all those feelings behind, but it’s so much more than her body I’m missing when I’m alone in bed at night. It’s just her . I miss her .
“I wonder why she didn’t tell me she was going to quit?” I say, breaking through my wayward thoughts.
“I don’t know. Have you guys talked much?”
I shrug again. “Not really. We FaceTimed Sunday night after we arrived and texted some earlier in the week, but it was mostly about business.” It’s not like I don’t want to talk to her. Talking to her just makes it harder to be here right now though, and this is where I need to be. But, I miss her.
“I know the time difference can be a bitch, but I think she’d love to talk to you.” He lifts his coffee again, letting his words land.
“Did she say something?” Nonchalance is not my forte, and I’m pretty sure I fail at it here. I feel like a schoolgirl talking about her crush. God, I’m pathetic. I miss her.
Wes smirks. “No, but I can tell she’s missing you guys. It’s just an observation. Do with it what you will.”
I lean back on my hands, letting my legs kick along the wall. “That’s not—it’s not weird for you if I call her?”
“Not at all.” He grabs my shoulder, pushing it until I turn to face him. “Look, I wish I could’ve been there for you in Tahoe, but it is what it is. Y’all lived together, I imagine you formed a bond in that time.” His gaze pierces mine, sincere and knowing. “I’m never going to stand in the way of you getting the support you need, wherever you need it from. I think you did a lot of good for her too.”
I could tell him now. Tell him about how much deeper that bond went. I could ask him what the hell I’m supposed to do.
“I’ll talk to her,” I say instead. We go back to staring out over the water and I let the conversation drop. Internally though, I’m screaming that I. MISS. HER.
And I’m kicking myself for walking away.
Willow slams the door to the house and my head snaps up from where I’m sitting on the couch, staring at Rory’s name on my phone. My fingers hover just above it, as if I could reach through and touch her by just tapping on her name.
“Bloody hell. Willow, what’s going on?” Her tear-stained cheeks have me jumping up and over the back of the couch. I had another mom drive her home today, thinking maybe the extra time with one of her friends would be good for her. Looks like I fucked that up.
“I hate it here!” she yells, storming into her room and slamming that door behind her too. Well, shit.
My bare feet slap against the tile and I lean my head against her door with a light knock. “Willow Bear?”
“Go away.” I flinch and my heart cracks in my chest. Do I force her to talk to me? Give her space?
“Can I come in?” I try again, but all I hear is a muffled cry from the other side of the door. “Come on, baby girl, please?”
Shuffling footsteps sound on the other side of the door before it opens a few inches. Her head is down so I can’t see her face. She immediately turns back to her bed and climbs on, pulling her favorite stuffy, a kangaroo that was the same size she was when she was born, into her lap. She’s picking at the fabric that’s pilled and worn.
Not wanting to crowd her, I sit at the end of the bed.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
She shakes her head.
“You can tell me anything.”
“I don’t want to make you mad.” Her lip wobbles.
My eyebrows pull down. Make me mad? Did she get into trouble?
“You won’t, sweetheart. Promise.”
She looks up from under her onyx lashes, long dark hair framing her face. “The kids at school—” She puffs out a breath and starts again. “The kids at school said you cheated on Mom and that’s why she left you. Left me. It’s not true!” She shouts the last words, and if my mouth wasn’t already hanging open, it would’ve been after that exclamation. I want to know how she even knows what “cheating” is in reference to a relationship, but that’s a conversation for another day.
“No, it’s not true, sweetheart.”
I promised Willow I wouldn’t get mad, but I want to rage. The kids at school didn’t get to that conclusion on their own. I won’t take it out on her though.
“I told them it wasn’t true, but they didn’t believe me. Then Andrea asked why Mom didn’t want to take me with her and I started crying.” The tears begin anew and she buries her face in her pillow. “Then I had to ride home with her.”
I crawl up the bed so I can lie down next to her and pull her into my body. She turns over and hides her face in my chest. I hold her, my own tears threatening to spill over. I lose the battle when she whispers the question I’ve dreaded for months.
“Was it my fault she left?”
I drop my head back and breathe, eyes squeezing so tight I feel it pull everywhere on my face. I hold in a sob for my girl who’s been through too much.
“No, baby. It wasn’t your fault.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” For that one word, I pull it together, because I’ll be damned if she hears even a quaver in my voice.
“But why didn’t she want me anymore?” Her voice cracks.
Fuck. It’s like my heart is in a blender.
“Because she was selfish, sweet girl. I know that’s hard to hear and hard to understand, but it’s the truth. She chose not to keep either of us in her life because she wanted something different. Her making that choice had nothing to do with us and everything to do with her. I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m so sorry.”
I hold her tighter and she cries until she runs out of tears. With a little hiccup, she looks up at me. “I miss her, but I don’t want to.”
“Both of those things are okay. To miss her and also to wish that you didn’t.”
“Do you miss her?”
“I miss her for you and for what you lost. You deserved a mom who’d always be there. I didn’t have that growing up, and I wanted it so badly for you.”
“I have you though,” she says as she nestles closer. “I think that might be all I need anyway.”
I roll onto my back and bring her with me. She may not know it, but her words were exactly what I needed to hear.
“You’ll always have me, and I think you’re all I need too, Willow Bear.”
We lie there quietly for a couple of minutes, and just when I think she’s fallen asleep, she speaks.
“I miss Tahoe. This doesn’t feel like home anymore.”
“I know.” I choke back my own pain, not wanting to add it to hers.
“And I miss Rory,” she whispers.
I close my eyes and steady my breathing. “Yeah, me too.”
We fall asleep, and I don’t call Rory. Because I miss her, and Willow misses her, and I don’t know how to talk to her and not miss her . And she doesn’t call me either.