Chapter 6
SADIE
Every muscle in my body aches as I clear away the last of the champagne glasses used to toast the bride and groom. After less than four hours of sleep, I awoke at dawn and threw myself into cleaning up.
Once again, not my job—I organise a cleaning crew from the mainland for events—but I need to keep busy.
I’ve swept floors, mopped, made several trips between the function room and the kitchen carrying empty dishes, and stacked glasses in the dishwasher.
Doing the repetitive, menial tasks may have distracted me for a while, but now that I stop, and see my father taking down fairy-lights strung between palm trees, I know I’ve been staving off the inevitable.
I need to tell him the truth.
He sees me approach and waves. “You’re up early. Didn’t over-imbibe like most of our guests, I see.”
“You know I’m a one-pot screamer.” I smile. “I got that from you.”
He chuckles, but a shadow passes over his face, probably at the thought of me inheriting anything from my mother. “You know one beer at the end of a day is my limit.” He pats his gut. “I need to maintain this physique.”
I laugh as intended. “Do you have a minute?”
“For my favourite girl, of course.”
He climbs down the ladder, and when he reaches the ground, he says, “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”
I hug him extra hard. “Happy New Year, Dad.”
When I release him, he says, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
A rote response that is undermined by tears filling my eyes, and I blink them away before saying, “Actually, I need to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
He’s eyeing me warily, and for the umpteenth time I second-guess the wisdom of telling him what Kai had revealed.
Not that it will change anything, but I can’t imagine hiding it from my dad.
He’s my parent, confidante, and hero rolled into one.
He taught me the names of every constellation as we sat on the beach in summer at night beside a bonfire; he showed me the difference between a flathead and Phillips head screwdriver—and how to use them—and he taught me to cook the best steamed fish this side of the Great Barrier Reef.
He’s my world, and despite him urging me to leave Ceto Island and explore what’s beyond our tiny tropical paradise many times, I can’t leave him.
Because I saw what Mum leaving him did and I won’t be responsible for gutting him like she did.
“Sadie, you’re worrying me.” Dad tilts my chin up. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Taking a deep breath, I blurt, “Kai told me he saw Mum in Melbourne.”
Dad blanches, the depth of pain in his eyes instant and devastating. “When?”
“About ten years ago.”
His bushy eyebrows arch. “And he waited until now to tell us?”
“He said he didn’t want to hurt me or dredge up painful stuff.”
“It’s always painful,” he mutters, shaking his head. “That’s why I told her never to return when she reached out a few years after she left.”
Stunned, I stare at my father in open-mouthed shock. “Mum contacted you?”
“Yeah, about two years after she left. Said she’d made a mistake, she wanted a second chance, wanted to return, blah, blah, blah.”
Winded, I lean forward a little to force air into my lungs. When the spots hovering at the edge of my vision ease, I straighten. “And you didn’t consider I might want to see her?”
His brows draw together in a formidable frown as sadness tugs at his mouth. “You were my only consideration, sweetheart. I saw what her leaving did to you, and no way in hell would I subject you to that again.”
“But she might’ve stayed? We could’ve been a family again.”
“She wouldn’t have stayed.” His lips compress into a thin line, his expression a mix of anger and regret.
“I knew what she was like before we married, so everything that happened is on me. It was okay when we didn’t have you.
I could put up with her going away on a whim, but I seriously thought that when we had you she’d settle down. ”
He swipes a hand over his face. “And she did for a while. But there was a weekend she took off for Cairns when you just turned one, and she ended up staying a week, and that’s the first time deep in my gut I knew we might lose her one day.”
I want to hug my dad, but he’s rigid with tension. It radiates from him, and I give him time to offload.
“We were happy when we were together. I idolised her, and she knew it. Having you completed our perfect world, but nothing’s ever perfect and once I realised the truth, that our happiness was fleeting, I made the most of every moment for your sake, hating myself for not being stronger and asking her to leave when you were a toddler so you wouldn’t have memories of a mother abandoning you. ”
Swallowing, I murmur, “Dad, it’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, it is. Entering a marriage with someone that you know is a flight risk, hoping your love is enough, is foolish, yet that’s exactly what I did because I’m selfish. I put my happiness ahead of everything, and look what my choice ultimately did to you.”
Tears fill his eyes, and he dashes them away with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish I’d done things differently.”
My heart breaks as I hug him, the man who’s given me everything but still feels like he failed.
“You’ve always done what’s best for me, Dad, and I thank you for that. I love you.”
“Love you too, little starfish.”
The nickname warms me as much as his embrace. It’s been years since he called me that, born decades earlier from my obsession with the fascinating creatures.
Kai tried calling me his little starfish once, when I was ten. I punched him, feeling bad I left a bruise on his arm, but relieved when he never called me it again.
Considering the timeline of when Mum reached out to Dad, I wonder if Kai labelling her selfish for abandoning me to her face made an impact.
The rest of what he said, ‘someone as special as Sadie’, gives me hope that our friendship will survive for many years to come, wherever he may be.
I hope so, because I can’t imagine my life without Kai in it, despite having hidden my true feelings from him for longer than I can remember.