Chapter 9
CHAPTER
9
Adelaide had been grateful when Jack said he needed to fix a broken fence an hour ago and absconded. It had given her time to gather her wits following the shock of seeing him after all this time. She hadn’t moved from the sofa, despite her curiosity about the rest of his place, for the simple fact it was wrong to poke around in his new life. And going by the beauty of this living room, a new life he was thriving in.
She could’ve called a tow truck or mechanic in his absence, but it would’ve been rude to leave while he’d been out, so she’d waited, demolishing the crackers and brie, sipping at her drink. Now, with Jack stomping as he came through the back door, her reprieve was over.
Grateful for the crackers and cheese in her stomach, Adelaide knocked back the rest of her manhattan, steeling her nerve for ‘the talk’ she needed to have with Jack. He entered the living room as she placed the empty glass on the coffee table, his lips compressed into a grim line.
‘Is it true you ended up here by sheer chance because your car broke down or is this another of your lies?’
Shocked by his change from solicitous host when she’d first arrived to accusing ex, she said, ‘I never lied to you.’
‘Yeah?’ His eyebrows rose. ‘Then what was that whole “till death do us part” vow?’
Annoyed he had her on the back foot already, she kept her tone steady, with effort. ‘My car has broken down, so I’ll need to use your phone to contact a tow truck, please. As for you opening the door to this place …’
She cast an envious eye over the interior again. ‘Trust me, this is the last place I expected you to be.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Your feet are rooted to the farm. You’d never leave it, as you told me many times. So I’m assuming this belongs to a friend ?’
If he caught her implication, he didn’t acknowledge it. ‘Mila didn’t tell you?’
‘Tell me what?’
‘I moved out of the farm when I built this place about five years ago. She bought the farm.’ A frown dented his brow. ‘I didn’t want her going into that much debt, but you know Mila, headstrong to a fault. I actually wondered if that’s why she was marrying Phil, for financial assistance, but she denied it.’
Adelaide heard what Jack said but she couldn’t compute it.
He’d sold the farm.
He’d built this cottage.
Her dream home.
And he’d lived here for five years.
What the hell?
Why couldn’t he have been so flexible when they’d been living together? Why hadn’t he acknowledged what she’d wanted, rather than shooting down every suggestion she made for them to have a better life away from the farm? Why hadn’t he seen how unhappy she was and done something, anything, as an incentive for her to stay?
Adelaide didn’t regret a single moment of the last fourteen years, when she’d found happiness and reawakened parts of herself she’d thought lost forever during the fraught years of her marriage. But the realisation that Jack had followed through on a part of her dream rankled. A hell of a lot.
Unless he didn’t remember and had built this by pure chance? Only one way to find out.
‘Why did you build my dream house?’
The telltale flush staining his cheeks gave her an answer before he spoke. ‘I like sandstone too.’
A lame response and he knew it.
‘I’m glad your new partner has more influence over you than I ever had,’ she muttered, bitterness lending bite to her words.
Not that she had a right to give him grief. She’d walked away from him without looking back. She shouldn’t begrudge him happiness. Especially considering she hadn’t been celibate in the years since she’d left. But seeing concrete evidence of what she’d once wanted from him, and he’d never been invested enough to give it to her, infuriated her.
Confusion creased his brow. ‘I don’t have a partner.’
She snorted. ‘It’s okay, Jack, my feelings won’t be hurt if you’ve moved on.’ She hesitated, realising he’d given her the perfect segue to start the discussion they needed to have. ‘In fact, why don’t we put the past behind us once and for all?’ A gentle way of leading into the divorce conversation they needed to have.
He blanched, his pain-filled eyes stark in his face. ‘If that’s what you want.’
‘It’s been long enough. Isn’t it what you want too?’
‘You’ve never been particularly interested in what I want,’ he mumbled, shooting to his feet and stalking towards the window so she had no hope of reading the expression on his face.
‘We could talk while I’m in town.’
He thrust his hands into his pockets, stretching the flannel across his shoulders. He’d worn nothing but flannies when they’d been married, reluctant to change his fashion—and every other aspect of his life. Jack had been a quiet, stubborn, old-fashioned, stick-in-the-mud in his early twenties and she’d never expected the fun-loving charmer she’d fallen for at that B & S ball to morph into a non-communicative grump so quickly.
She knew he’d taken his farming responsibilities seriously and had done her utmost to support him. But the more Jack retreated inward, the greater the emotional distance between them, until she’d had no option but to leave.
Simply, she’d woken up one day and given up trying.
‘Fine. We’ll talk.’ Jack’s soulless monotone made her wish she could go to him, wrap her arms around him from behind, and rest her cheek against his back like she used to. But she’d given up the right to comfort or do anything else with this man a long time ago and she needed to harden up for what was to come. ‘Is your number the same?’
‘It’s the same,’ she said. Of course it would be, considering a small part of her had never given up hope in those first few years after she left that he’d come to his senses and call. ‘Speaking of phones, can I call Mila please?’
He swung back to face her, his expression carefully blanked. ‘Probably best to give her a bit of space today.’
Adelaide had never liked being told what to do, especially by this man, but Jack was probably right. Though she’d been hoping to stay on the farm with her granddaughter. A farm Mila apparently owned but had never told her. It hurt that her granddaughter, who she thought she had a close bond with, had kept something so monumental from her.
Then again, if Mila had told her about buying the farm, her granddaughter would’ve had to field questions about where Jack had gone and maybe she didn’t want to get caught in the middle.
‘Okay, I’ll call her tomorrow. But can I use your phone to call a tow, then the motel?’
She assumed Shazza still ran the motel. It had been her pride and joy back in the day and Shazza treated every guest like they were staying at a five-star hotel rather than an ageing motel.
Jack’s frown returned. ‘Want me to take a look at the car?’
She wanted nothing from him—discounting a divorce—but if something simple had caused the breakdown, maybe Jack could fix it and she could be on her way sooner rather than later. He’d always been tinkering with the tractor or some other piece of equipment on the farm and had been adept at fixing them.
‘That’d be good, thanks.’
‘Let’s go.’ He picked up his keys from the coffee table and pressed a button on a small rectangular remote control, to open the garage presumably. ‘I’ll call a tow from the car if I can’t fix it.’
‘And the motel?’
The strangest expression crossed his face, one she had no hope of interpreting. ‘I’ll drop you there.’
He’d crossed the living room before he paused, shooting her a glare that made her heart sink. ‘Though if you ever gave half a shit about me, you’d realise that staying at the motel will make me the talk of the town and you’d reconsider where you’ll shack up while you’re here.’
His low tone barely above a growl held a tonne of hurt and made her feel lower than she already did.
‘I’ll talk to Mila.’
But that meant bothering her granddaughter at the worst possible time, when she’d been dumped on her wedding day—though what other option did she have?
‘She needs her space,’ he muttered, his lips compressing into a thin, unimpressed line. ‘There’s a room out the back you can use for tonight if you want.’
Her jaw must’ve dropped a little because Jack barked out a laugh. ‘Don’t worry, it’s a good distance from the house and is self-contained so you won’t encounter me.’
An enormous gratitude welled in her chest, and she couldn’t speak for a moment. She’d treated Jack badly when she’d walked out on him, testing him, expecting him to come after her. When he didn’t, it had vindicated her choice to walk away. She must’ve hurt him badly yet here he was, offering her a place to stay when she didn’t deserve it. It made her want to bawl.
She blinked away the tears stinging her eyes and cleared her throat. ‘Thanks, Jack.’
‘You’re welcome,’ he muttered, gruff and surly as he turned away and headed for the internal access door leading to the garage.‘Follow me.’
She had once, all the way to a rundown farm in Ashe Ridge. And look where that had got her. A broken heart, broken dreams, and a broken marriage about to end in divorce fourteen years too late.