Chapter 8
Kaden
Jason pours us a fresh glass of lemon soda, the bubbles rising and sizzling as he slides mine across the bar to where I’m settled on the stool opposite him. It’s been six weeks since I’ve had a single drop of alcohol, six weeks of beating the addiction and choosing to stay sober.
I wish I could say the transition has been smooth, but the truth is, some days the urges hit harder than I expect. In those quiet, difficult moments, which are becoming increasingly rare—I find myself wondering how much longer I can truly hold on to my sobriety.
Thankfully, Dr. Carroll’s breathing exercises, the building projects, and the journaling has all helped in their own ways. They’ve provided a much-needed release, while also keeping me grounded and focused on the present whenever my mind starts drifting into darker places.
And on top of that, the furniture has been coming along really well. The dining and coffee tables are finished, and the TV unit and shelves just need another coat of paint. Other than that, the apartment is starting to look pretty damn fantastic.
One thing I still haven’t been able to bring myself to do is write the letter to my ex-wife—not for the lack of trying, but because I don’t even know where to begin.
There were so many mistakes I made, so many wrong choices I still need to face, that I’m afraid there won’t be enough space on the page to fit them all.
More than anything, I want the words to be sincere, to show the full weight of my pain, fear, guilt, and remorse, even if she’ll never read it.
I was assigned that homework two weeks ago, but every time I pick up the pen, my mind turns into a jumbled mess, an unorganised box of sentences and half-formed thoughts I can’t seem to lay down neatly on the page.
So, for now, I’ve decided to wait. Wait until the words come out on their own—more organically, more meaningfully, more honestly.
After serving another customer to my right, Jason turns his full attention back to me. “Let’s grab a table so we’re not interrupted,” he says, picking up his drink and rounding the bar. I rise from my stool, take my own glass, and follow him towards a small table at the back of the room.
We slide into our seats and set our drinks on the table, both of us leaning back in near-matching poses as we scan the room before our eyes meet again.
“I appreciate you taking time out of your Sunday afternoon to have lunch with me,” I begin, feeling the need to thank my best friend for always showing up whenever I need him.
“Ah, it’s no biggie. It’s quiet in the restaurant today anyway.”
“You’re leaving early then?”
“Yeah. Mila wants to see some movie she’s been dying to watch. Not sure I’ll survive a two-hour chick flick, but she promised me my own happy ending if I make it through. If you know what I mean.” He smirks, waggling his eyebrows.
“I’d rather not know what you mean. And I’d definitely prefer if you kept your sexcapade banter to yourself.”
“Hey, she’s an adult, I’m an adult. We have a healthy sex life—shoot me if that’s wrong.”
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. It’s just… hard to see Mila as anything other than the kid I used to watch growing up.”
“Well, she sure isn’t a kid anymore, I can tell you that.”
“I’m happy that things are going well for you two, Jase. I mean that.”
“Thanks, man. But we’ve encountered another issue would you believe it or not.”
“You got her pregnant before putting a ring on it?” I quip.
“No. Although, I wouldn’t be upset if that did happen. But this… this doesn’t even come close to what I’m about to tell you.”
“Oh, God… just tell me. It can’t be any worse than everything I’ve already heard lately.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that once you hear the news,” he says. “But long story short, Elena’s in jail.”
My jaw drops instantly. That was definitely not the news I was expecting. Just when I thought nothing could shock me anymore, this one takes the cake.
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head, his expression almost unreadable, as if the news doesn’t faze him at all.
“Unfortunately, I’m not. Her mother called me last week, hysterically sobbing, saying she was arrested in the middle of one of her lectures at the university.
And now she’s being held until her trial. ”
“Why the fuck is your ex-wife in jail?”
“Several of her students, came forward to the University’s governing board, accusing her of sexual assault.
They gathered enough evidence to build a case against her.
She was also charged with manipulating their grades and threatening their academic futures to keep them quiet.
If convicted, she could face serious prison time. ”
“Fuck, I’m so sorry to hear what you and your family are going through.”
“Jake’s been living with me full-time, and if Elena gets handed the maximum sentence, which looks likely, he’ll be in my care for a very long time.”
“How’s he been through all of this?”
“I’ve tried to explain things it to him as gently as I could, but there’s only so much a six-year-old can understand.
He’s been asking questions here and there, such as how long his mother will be away for, or if he’ll get to see her, but we don’t want to overwhelm him.
We’re just taking it day by day, doing our best to navigate this as a family. ”
“And what about Mila? How is she handling everything?”
“She’s been an absolute angel through all of this. I can’t put into words just how patient and supportive she’s been. It’s actually brought us closer. I don’t know what I would do if she weren’t here.”
Mila and Jason’s ex-wife were never on friendly terms. Elena, driven by her own insecurities and selfishness, never warmed to Mila and made little effort to hide it. In fact, she went so far as to interfere in Mila and Jason’s relationship, deliberately trying to drive a wedge between them.
Her meddling played a part in their eventual breakup, a line she crossed so deeply that Jason finally drew one of his own—threatening to destroy her career and reputation if she ever interfered again.
After that, Elena kept her distance. Any communication regarding Jake was filtered through her parents.
“I’m glad you’re not facing this alone,” I tell my best friend.
“And if there’s anything you need, even if it’s just someone to vent to—I’m here.
” And I mean it with every fibre of my being.
Jason has always shown up for me, especially when life became too much. Now it’s my turn to return the favour.
“Thanks, Kaden. But I think I’ve had enough of thinking about it today. I want to know what’s going on with you. How’s the furniture and apartment going?”
“It’s going well. I’m just about done with the living room. The shelves need one last coat, and then I’ll start on my desk in the home office. It’s been surprisingly therapeutic to tell you the truth. Each finished piece feels more satisfying than the last.”
“Man, that’s awesome! I’m looking forward to seeing it all come together.”
I chuckle. “I’ll let you know, brother.”
I’m just about to ask him if he wants to watch the footy at my place tomorrow night when a flash of bright red hair catches my eye behind Jason.
A woman in a thick green woollen jumper slowly rises to her feet, and across from her, a little boy, no older than seven or eight by the look of him—hops down from his seat.
I don’t know what it is, but I swear I’ve seen that woman before.
“I’d stop staring at her before she starts thinking you’re some kind of creep,” Jason says suddenly, snapping me out of it as my gaze jumps back to him.
“She looks so familiar, but I can’t quite place where I’ve seen her before.”
We both glance back at the woman, watching as she takes her son’s hand and head towards the exit door.
Moments later, through the glass window, I see a man slide out of the car parked in front of them. She greets him with a full embrace, then leans in for a kiss. When he pulls back, I finally get a clear look at him.
“Oh my God. No fucking way!” My eyes widen so much they nearly pop out of my head.
“What?” Jason says, his gaze tracking my line of sight.
“I think I might know who that woman is.”
“Who is she?” he asks curiously.
“That man she’s with—that’s Lucia’s ex-lover, Adrian. And that woman and child right there… are his wife and son.”
Hope
Adrian pulls up into my parents’ driveway, where we’ve been staying for the weekend.
We’ve just finished lunch at Hawkins Bar and Grill after I’d promised Zac we’d go for his favourite fried zucchini flowers while we’re in Sydney.
Adrian had some errands to run, which is why he couldn’t join us, but he insisted on dropping us off and picking us up once we were done.
I unbuckle my seatbelt, expecting Adrian to do the same, but he remains in his seat, the engine still humming softly.
“Are you not coming in?”
“Um… actually, Gavin called just before I picked you guys up and invited me to join him for a few rounds of golf. I only agreed because I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to catch up with him next.”
“Oh. Okay, yeah,” I reply, swallowing my disappointment. “I guess I’ll see you in a few hours then?”
“Of course. I’ll try not to be too long.”
“Sure,” I smile, even if it’s a little forced.
He must think I’m a total fool. I know that the real reason he’s leaving is because he wants to spend as little time as possible with my dad.
My father has never been particularly fond of him, even after all these years.
He never warmed up to Adrian again, after he broke my heart the first time following our high school graduation.
And if I’m being honest, I think my husband prefers to just keep out of his way.
I hop out of the passenger seat and help Zac from his. Once we’re out, we wave goodbye to Adrian as he backs out of the driveway. Without waiting for him to disappear around the corner, we make our way up the porch stairs and enter through the front door.
Almost immediately, I hear my mother’s overly enthusiastic greeting from the living room.
Zac heads straight upstairs to his room, no doubt to disappear into games on his tablet, while I make my way to the living room.
My mother sits curled into the couch, knitting what looks like a pink baby blanket—probably for one of her friends’ new grandchildren, as the television murmurs softly in the background.
My dad sits across from her in his reading chair, engrossed in something on his iPad, his reading glasses perched precariously near the tip of his nose.
My mother looks up the moment she hears me enter, her attention lifting from her knitting, as my father continues to focus on the screen in front of him.
“How was your lunch?” she asks.
“It was really good. I wish you both could’ve joined us.”
“I know, we’re sorry,” my mother says. “Your father and I were well overdue for our skin checks. We’ll definitely come along next time.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“And where’s Adrian?” my father asks, still not looking up from his screen.
“He’s golfing with Gavin.”
He grunts, almost in annoyance. “Typical coward,” he mumbles under his breath, but loud enough for me to hear.
“Dad! Please don’t start,” I warn him.
He flicks his gaze to me, chin tipped down as he peers over the rims of his glasses.
“Sweetheart, I’m not trying to start anything.
But he’d be a fool to think we don’t notice him avoiding time with us.
He’s already taken you and Zac so far away, and yet he can’t even show the decency or respect to be here with us. ”
“He’s avoiding you, Dad,” I emphasise. “And can you really blame him? You haven’t exactly been the most welcoming towards him.”
“Eh! Then he can man up and tell me himself instead of always running away like a scared little boy.”
“Frank!” my mother bellows. “That’s enough. You’re too old to be holding onto grudges like that. What they do in their family is their business. He’s a wonderful husband and father, and he’s proved that time and time again. So, stop interfering.”
“I’m not interfering, Justine. I’m simply looking out for my daughter and grandson’s best interests, because clearly, Adrian is only looking out for himself. I’ll never understand why he pushed his family to leave in a hurry and start a new life in a town where they know no one.”
He glances my way once again. “There was nothing wrong with your lives here. You were thriving. So I don’t believe for a second that it was because of a better job opportunity. I know there’s more behind his sudden decision to move you all away. And I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
“Adrian didn’t force us into anything we didn’t want to do, okay? We were more than ready to move.”
He shifts slightly in his chair until he’s fully facing me, his tone now sharper.
“Then tell me, my sweet girl—are you honestly happy where you are? Or are you just going to stand there and pretend everything’s perfectly fine, like you always do when it comes to your husband’s poor, idiotic choices? ”
“You know what? I think I’ll go for a walk.”
“Oh, honey. Your dad’s just in one of his grumpy moods again. Pay him no mind,” my mother says as she glares at my father.
“I’m not, actually. I’m happy as Larry right now. It doesn’t change the fact that I still think her husband’s a tool.”
“Oh my God! I’m going for my walk before I say something I’m going to regret. Watch Zac for me, please. I’ll be back in forty minutes.”
Before either of my parents can utter another word, I spin on my heels and walk out of the room, straight through the front door.
I don’t even bother slipping on my sneakers—walking in flats is a small sacrifice if it means I don’t have to spend another minute listening to my father talk about how shit of a husband Adrian is.
I’ve heard enough of it over the years to write an entire novel.
But even as I stroll along the pond, the soft splashes and quacks of ducks filling the air, I can’t shake the unease left by that conversation with my father.
If there’s one thing he’s always been good at, it’s sensing when something doesn’t add up—and when someone isn’t telling the whole truth.