Chapter 10 That Cautious Touch in Winter
That Cautious Touch in Winter
Erin
Another day was creeping to an end.
The firepit flicked up jagged spurts of orange. It was warm, not too hot, and perfect for toasting the marshmallows Matilda had grown bored of gobbling up. The chill that lingered over the valley only prickled my cheeks, but I wrapped my cardigan tighter and hugged the wool close.
My phone buzzed.
Callan
THOOMLING.
My eyes darted over the letters, silently rearranging them in my mind.
Erin
Moonlight. You make Unscramble too easy for me.
Callan
Hmph!
A faint smile disappearing from my lips, I blinked up at the moon hanging low over the mountains.
The world was too big. I felt exposed and…
untethered. Who was I now that I wasn’t Jeremy’s wife anymore?
Or Lila’s best friend? I was Matilda’s mother, but what else?
I was nothing special. I got a degree and a job, but I’d never had a calling—like Cal—or a career I was passionate about—like Jeremy.
Motherhood was my joy. A difficult job, but not one that paid the bills.
In the swirl of those confusing thoughts, there was a lonely sort of comfort knowing that Callan might be looking at the moon at the same time as me.
What would I do without him?
Shatter.
Dramatic, but true.
Sure, I’d cried myself to sleep last night, but before that, he’d been the glue that held me together long enough to get dinner on the table and Matilda off to bed. He was easy to talk to. I missed him when he was gone.
“Mummy!” Matilda cried. “Watch!”
She poked her stubby finger at the glimmers of frost clinging to the grass and shrieked with delight when the chill tickled her skin. Her vivid toddler imagination had decided the icy shards were fairy magic.
I called out to Matilda, “It’s almost bedtime, okay?” but reached for the glass on the railing. I’d sip wine and lie to myself a few more times. It had been “almost bedtime” for half an hour, and I still wasn’t ready to face the empty bed.
The sudden ringing of my phone cut through my spiraling thoughts. My grip on the wine glass tightened. “Oh, great,” I muttered. “Guess who decided I’m finally important enough to call?”
Jeremy didn’t deserve a hello. Instead, he got a tired, clipped “What?”
“Erin… I…” A raspy breath filled the pause. “I got the letter from the lawyer. They served me at work today.”
Here we go…
I gulped down too many sips of wine for courage.
“Erin, you… left me? The date of separation the lawyer noted is the night that I… It was last Wednesday when I…”
I helped him fill in the blank. “Cheated on me.”
“No,” he choked out.
“Betrayed me.”
“No.”
“Destroyed our marriage. I could do this all night, Jeremy. What about ‘screwing around behind my back’?”
“Erin, you have to understand… I’ve been missing you so much. I rationalized to myself that what I needed was purely physical. I was so fucking wrong.” His voice cracked, and he paused, seemingly unable to find the words he needed to say. “I knew straight away I’d made a terrible mistake.”
Sarcasm dripped from my voice when I snapped back, “Oh, well, that explains why you screwed her for hours.”
“I…” Jeremy dropped a heavy sigh. “I couldn’t… finish. I felt so guilty. Nothing happening felt right. That’s why it took hours. I don’t want to hurt you—”
“Too late.”
“Erin, all I’ve been searching for is us. What we used to have… Before Lila…”
“Don’t you dare use Lila getting sick as an excuse for what you did. She’s my best friend—”
“She’s gone, Erin! It’s been three years, and you still haven’t accepted it. You’re the one who used her illness as an excuse to pull away—”
“No!”
Jeremy lowered his voice to the velvety tone that probably soothed his patients.
“I understand the cycle better than anyone. You know I do. I help people manage grief every day in my practice. But when you’re my wife and not my patient…
I guess it was harder to remember to be objective and not feel…
forgotten.” He sighed. “Erin, I’m so lost without you. ”
I let my silence be the answer to that pathetic monologue.
“I was upset when I came home that night because I knew I hadn’t fixed the void between us with another person. I felt so fucking empty, and there was no way I could make it better after I did what I did. Jesus, Erin… Why didn’t you tell me you left? You didn’t need a lawyer to tell me.”
“Would you have cared? Didn’t you notice my rings on the nightstand and wonder why they were there?”
“On the… Fuck.” Heavy footsteps echoed in the background. He must have been running up the stairs to the bedroom. “I didn’t…”
“See them? No, I suppose you didn’t. Were you at Tallulah’s house fucking her the whole time I’ve been gone?”
“No! Jesus, no. Erin…” He inhaled a sharp breath. “You really left your rings. You haven’t taken them off since… since… I’m not… Fuck.”
Jeremy’s muffled sobs cut through the phone.
My jaw tightened, and I pressed the rim of the glass to my lips, taking a long sip of wine.
I imagined him sitting on the edge of the bed in his pristine suit, head bowed, the reality of our divorce crashing down around him.
For a heartbeat, my love for the man I married battled to break free, but anger still boiled in my blood.
I could never forgive him for what he did.
“Jeremy, if you read the letter—”
“I read it six times.”
“Okay, so let’s talk about organizing time each week for you to video call Til.”
“I don’t want to video call my daughter! I need to see her. Please come home.”
“Are you moving out?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you’ll need to work out times with the lawyer—”
“And then what? I see my little girl every second weekend or on some bullshit video call? And when do I get to see you? When can we talk?”
“Never.”
“Erin… I…”
I said nothing, filling in the silence by watching Matilda poke the fairy crystals and tumble and roll in the dew, her woolly jacket glistening from sprigs of wet grass.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Jeremy said. “I didn’t…
I didn’t realize how far apart we truly were.
I’ve been a zombie. I threw myself into work and slept at the office because I couldn’t bear walking through the door knowing you and Til weren’t here.
You two are my whole world. Please, Erin. I’ll do anything.”
“Talk to my lawyer about all the things you’ll do.”
I hung up.
My phone instantly blew up with another call from Jeremy.
I rejected it.
And the next one, too.
My head swiveled to admire the grand old house. In the distance, I could just make out Callan, his shoulder casually leaning against the towering cream column, his gaze on the sky. I tilted my head. The sight of him high on the hill was familiar, but…
That wasn’t the Callan I remembered. When had he transformed into this…man?
When I’d first impressed him with my cartwheels at eleven, he’d been a chubby-faced boy with burnt copper hair and fair skin bursting with freckles.
Then, he was the easygoing teenager trying to coax a laugh out of his moody older brother or mediating another fight between Mim and Bronte.
His face changed after the accident. It had changed even more in the years since—the clawing, purple scars and even his burnt copper hair had faded with age, but his brow sat heavier, and his cheeks hollowed to a boxy jaw.
The changes weren’t just physical. Something had shifted inside him, too. His walk. His voice. He used to drop his chin to hide his face from people passing by, but he didn’t do that anymore. His passion for running the farm had brought out a whole new side of him.
How had I missed the man he’d become?
As if hearing my thoughts on the wind, Callan’s head turned. Could he see me all the way down here? I raised my palm. When he waved back, my heart thumped faster in my chest, but I didn’t know why.
My phone buzzed.
Jeremy
I’m sorry if I hurt you. Knowing how much you’ve been through, I should have been patient. I made a terrible mistake.
I love the life we have together. I love you. I promise I can be the man you need if you give me another chance.
Numb to Jeremy’s empty promises, I switched off my phone.
My gaze drifted back to the homestead. Callan was gone. No, he was closer. He walked with confident strides down the hill, always so at ease on the land, and when our eyes met, he smiled.
“Cal!” Matilda cried, racing to him, her new gumboots squelching through the wet grass. “We catching fairies!”
Callan scooped her up in his arms. “Not hollering like that, you won’t.” He tossed her in the air, and toddler giggles bubbled over the valley. “You’ve got to be quiet to catch fairies.”
Her eyes popped open. “You see them?”
“Oh, yeah.” He winked at me. “When your mummy and I were little, we found a magical forest.”
I rolled my eyes. The thick grove of trees behind the old convict outbuildings was littered with fallen logs and fat croaking frogs. A swamp, really. It stank to high heaven out there. There was nothing “magical” about that forest.
Callan shot me a challenging grin. He knew I hated that place. “If it’s not past your bedtime, we can search for fairies. But!” He tickled Matilda’s belly. “Once you know the secret, promise you’ll only go there with a grown-up, okay?”
“Trolls there?” she asked in an excited whisper.
With his brows furrowed, Callan tapped his chin as if he were thinking it over very seriously. “You know, I’ve never seen a troll, but you can never be too careful in magical forests. You’d better stomp your boots when we get closer to scare any away.”
“Where go?”
“There”—he pointed straight ahead—“to those trees.”
Matilda wriggled out of his arms and marched through the grass with her arms swinging. Trolls or not, she was brave.
Callan bumped his shoulder into mine as we walked behind her. “How was your day?”
“Quiet. You?”
“Less quiet when I got home.”
“Are Bronte and Mim arguing again?”
“You guessed it. The contract settled, and Mim is coming to terms with the fact that Bronte’s never going back to nursing. You can imagine. I never realized how much Lila…” His lips flattened, and that was where his thought ended.
My heart sang to hear someone else say Lila’s name. Jeremy hated it when I mentioned her. Every thought about her was me refusing to deal with my grief, according to him.
“Finish what you were going to say,” I urged Callan.
He gave me a long look but smiled softly and said, “I was going to say, Lila must have been buffering some of their arguments… Or maybe the three of them were always too busy gossiping to be bothered to fight as much.”
“Why didn’t you say that?”
He lifted a shoulder.
“Cal… Do you think I haven’t gotten over Lila?”
His brows scrunched together when he flicked me a sideways glance. “Why do you have to?”
“She’s gone…”
“That doesn’t mean you have to forget her. I was keeping my comments to myself because I know how much of a toll those last few months took on you. I see it on your face when you’re up at the house.”
“I…”
“I get why you don’t venture down to their old room. But to me, that’s love. It hurt you to see her get so sick and not be able to do more to help. And now, she’s gone, and you miss her.”
“I do.”
“And isn’t that okay?”
“I… don’t know…”
I let my thoughts float like the moths flitting in the night air.
Jeremy never understood why I needed to pause sometimes because the pain of losing Lila seized so tight around my lungs I could hardly breathe.
He was impatient. Every discussion was about progress.
Instead of letting me remember random moments with Lila, like giggling over her crush on Cole or sleeping with the lights on after watching too many scary movies, Jeremy shut me down and told me it had been long enough.
How many days were enough on his scale? A thousand wasn’t enough for me…
The forest loomed ahead, and Callan picked up his pace to race a few steps ahead of Matilda. He crouched close to the grass.
“Hey,” he whispered over his shoulder. “I think I see something.”
Eyes wide, Matilda crept forward, her gumboots squeaking with each cautious step.
“See that?” Callan pointed at the green glow peeking through the trees. A string of ghost mushrooms curled around the roots. “The fairies have been here. Let’s sneak up as quietly as we can to get a closer look.” He smirked at me. “You too, Mummy.”
“Be quiet, ’kay?” Matilda put her index finger to her lips and did a “shush” loud enough to scare away all the fairies and the trolls.
Callan stifled a laugh. “Yeah, Mummy. You’ve got to be quiet.”
Matilda sloshed through the enormous puddle of water stretching around the trees. Fearful brown eyes searched for Callan when the water lapped too high up her boots. He rushed forward and jetted her to safety. Turning back, he frowned at my sneakers.
“Here.” He held his hand out to me. “I’ll help you over.”
I dropped my hand into his palm, but instead of grabbing it, his other arm slung around my waist, pulling me close enough to bump against his chest, and he lifted me.
My heart thumped, the earthy wet grass and forest mingling with Callan’s cologne, the scents stirring a strange, unfamiliar flutter in my chest. Excitement.
..? Guilt...? Whatever it was, it was too much. I needed space.
My toe gingerly searched for the grass, and when I found solid ground, I slid down his body to land on my feet.
Callan’s breath hitched, surprised at the close contact, but he didn’t let go. He stared at me, and his copper lashes dipped low for what seemed like forever. Was he looking at… my mouth?
Self-conscious, I raised my hand to wipe away whatever was there—a smudge of lipstick or maybe wine—but he captured my hand and lifted his gaze. Oh, those blue, blue eyes. His mouth set in a firm line, as if he were stopping himself from blurting out something.
I gulped. “Cal…?”
“Erin…” He inched close enough that I could feel his breath on my lips. “I…”
Matilda squealed.
“Mummy!” she pointed excitedly at the glowing mushrooms. “See!”
Callan abruptly stepped back, blowing out a giant breath as he darted another strange look at me before rushing to Matilda’s side. I stood rooted to the spot like the tree Callan and Matilda huddled under whispering about fairies and how their magic made the mushrooms glow.
My lips tingled when I brushed my fingers over the top. His breath had been so warm. My pulse still raced.
What just happened?
And why did I wish I could stumble on a real fairy to ask them to rewind time so it could happen again?