Chapter 20
Hope
I spot a quaint little flower boutique tucked between a jewellery shop and a donut stand at the farmer’s market and decide to wander over for a closer look.
The stall is brimming with lush greenery and bright bursts of colour, and the air smells faintly of damp soil and florals, instantly soothing my senses.
The moment my eyes settle on the shelf of indoor plants, I know immediately I won’t be leaving this place empty-handed. I linger, letting my gaze wander over each display, until it finally rests on the golden-yellow peace lilies and the glossy, raven ZZ plants.
I pause for a moment, quietly weighing which one I’ll bring home to join my growing collection.
Ever since moving back into the house, I’ve felt an almost compulsive urge to fill every corner with fresh greenery, as if each plant could breathe new life, and calm, into the space.
I’m determined to erase every trace of the stale energy that had once hung over the house like a lingering ghost, and with Adrian gone, I no longer feel any reason to hold myself back.
“Would you like some help, ma’am?” the shop assistant calls from behind me.
I turn my gaze towards an older woman with a warm, smiling face, then back to the two plants, still trying to decide which one to buy.
“I think I need a few more minutes, if that’s okay?” I reply.
“No worries, darling. Let me know when you’re ready.”
I nod, then lower myself to pick up the peace lilies for a closer look. Just as I do, my phone starts ringing, its sound slightly muffled inside my bag. I fumble for it, carefully pulling it free, and immediately see that it’s my ex-husband calling.
“Adrian?”
“Hey, I’m sorry to have to do this again, but I won’t be able to see Zac next weekend.”
“What?! Why?”
“I’m flying up to Brisbane for a friend’s engagement. He asked me to be his best man.”
“What friend in Brisbane? You don’t know anyone from there.”
“It’s Tom. You know—my colleague from the first school I ever taught at? He moved up there last year.”
“You’ve never mentioned anyone by the name of Tom.”
“Oh my god! I’ve told you about him a few times. You just never paid attention.”
“Adrian, I think I’d remember a close colleague, especially one close enough to you to make you the best man at his wedding.”
“Look, I don’t want to argue, okay. I’m just giving you a heads up that I can’t come down next weekend.”
“That’s just not good enough. You’ve seen our son once in two months!”
“I’ll take him out when I’m back in town. He’ll be fine.”
“No, you can’t just do that, Adrian. That’s not fair on him!”
“Hey, this never would’ve been a problem if you hadn’t insisted on getting a divorce and moving back to Sydney. I wouldn’t be this far away from my own son, and he could’ve grown up in a stable home.”
I roll my eyes at his condescending tone and obvious attempts at gaslighting. Like seriously? When did he become such as narcissistic prick?
“Ah, news flash, Adrian! I divorced you because you cheated on me and got your mistress pregnant. Why would I be stupid enough to stay with you after that? And FYI, Zac will grow up in a stable home. It just won’t include you!”
“You really need to move on from that. Yes, it happened, and I’ve apologised profusely for it. Why can’t you just let it go?”
“Because you blew up our entire life and don’t seem to feel a shred of remorse, especially when you started sleeping with other women barely two weeks after I ended our relationship. And because you’ve abandoned your son more times than I can count, all to spend time with your fucking hook-ups!”
I’m so angry that I don’t even realise my voice has risen, or that a few customers nearby have begun casting curious glances in my direction.
“You know what?” I say more quietly, my voice low, yet firm. “Do whatever you want, Adrian. Do whatever it is that you clearly think is more important than spending time with our son. I’ll spend the weekend with him. Just don’t be surprised if one day he stops caring whether you’re around or not.”
I cut the call and toss my phone into my bag harder than I intend.
I hate how easily he gets under my skin.
Since our divorce was finalised a few weeks ago, he’s turned into an insufferable arsehole in every conceivable way.
It’s as if the mask has finally slipped, exposing the real Adrian: the man who only ever cared about himself.
Thankfully, our divorce was as swift as I could have hoped.
Adrian didn’t contest a single thing—not the house I owned, not the child support, not even the parenting order the judge signed, which essentially mirrored the agreement we had reached the day I walked out on our marriage more than thirteen months ago.
I was so terrified that Adrian would go back on his word and fight me for custody of Zac.
I lost sleep and my appetite for weeks, consumed by the fear that he might be spiteful enough to try something so cruel.
But when I brought it up with my parents, my dad just cackled and said, “Let him try.” That was the end of that conversation.
“Do you still need more time?” the shop assistant asks, dragging me back to the moment.
I quickly shake off the heavy thoughts and glance back at the two plants, torn between the peace lilies in my favourite shade of yellow and the ZZ plant, which is—well—practically indestructible.
Unable to decide, I cave and take them both.
“I’ll take that one—and that one,” I say, pointing to my two chosen plants and smiling.
The shop assistant carefully lifts the potted plants from the shelf and sets them on the counter at the register before transferring them gently into a cardboard box.
I tap my card on the machine and clutch the box against my chest, thanking the very kind and helpful shop assistant before existing the stall.
My thoughts are so lost in the conversation with Adrian, that I fail to watch where I’m going—until I suddenly collide with something… no, someone. A man. Tall, solid, and built like an immovable wall. The impact nearly crushes the plants between us.
“Woah, there! Are you okay?”
His strong hands close around my arms to steady me, and my gaze lands on the man’s broad chest, the muscles beneath his white shirt straining against the fabric. His voice is so deep and velvety, so much so that I barely register he’s speaking to me at first.
“Hope? Hope Turner?”
When our eyes finally meet, mine widen instantly.
It’s been over thirteen months since I last saw this man, long enough that I almost forgot he existed. Judging by the way he remembers my name, even after all this time—it’s clear he never forgot about me.
“McKenna,” I correct him.
“What?” he says, genuinely confused.
“It’s McKenna now—my name,” I clarify firmly.
His brows crease further in confusion, then, as realisation dawns, they arch in surprise.
I let out a breathy laugh. “Don’t look so shocked, Kaden. What did you expect after you handed me a grenade that practically blew up my whole life.”
He looks genuinely taken aback by my sudden abrasiveness, a choked sound escaping as he opens his mouth, though no words follow. I hadn’t meant for it to come out cold and sharp, and from the guilty look that crosses his face, I may have been a little too harsh.
“I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I’ve just been in a bit of an off mood lately. I don’t blame you for what happened. But, if you’re curious, Adrian and I are divorced now. I feel the need to thank you for making me see what a deceiving arsehole he really is.”
His expression softens in an instant, empathy flickering in his eyes. “No need to thank me, Hope. I would’ve done the same for anyone in that situation. I’m just sorry it had to come to this. You deserve better.”
“I know I do. That’s why I moved back here. To start over.”
“You’re back in Sydney?”
“Yes I am.”
“You know,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been wanting to check in on you and see how you were doing. But I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear from me again.”
“To be honest, it was probably a good thing you didn’t. I wasn’t in the right headspace to talk to anyone outside of my family. It’s been a rough year.”
“I can imagine. But I’m glad to hear you’re back home, surrounded by people who love and support you. It’ll make the process of moving on a little easier.”
I nod, offering him a small, tentative smile. “Yeah… I hope so. Anyway, are you looking for something in particular?”
“I am, actually. I’m just not entirely sure what I’m looking for yet. I moved into my apartment at Morton Hill over a year ago, and I haven’t really done much to the place. It’s a little too modern for my taste, so I’m hoping to soften it by bringing in a few plants.”
“Oh, I know the area. I live in the next suburb, in Merryville.”
“Serious? What a small world.”
“Sure is.”
He chuckles, and for a few moments we simply stand there, awkwardly holding each other’s gaze.
I cough lightly, breaking the quiet. “Okay, well, before you go off randomly selecting plants you have no idea how to keep alive, there are a few things you should probably think about first. Things like how much natural light the space gets, the plant’s watering needs, the temperature and humidity of the room, proper drainage, and whether you’re after something low-maintenance. ”
“I can tell you now, straight off the bat, I have considered none of those things.”
“Kaden!” I chuckle, shaking my head.
“What?” He laughs. “I’ve never had to take care of a single plant in my life. I’m basically clueless.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” I tease. “For a complete beginner, I’d suggest starting with something low-maintenance. That way, when you forget to water it, or accidentally neglect it for a while, it won’t end up looking like a shrivelled corpse.”
“Well, if you’re not in a hurry to leave, I’d love to get your opinion on some of the ones I pick.”
I hesitate, caught off guard by the unexpected invitation. “Actually, I have to run. I’ve got a lot to do around the house that can’t wait any longer.”
“Oh—yeah. Of course,” he responds, swallowing his disappointment. “I’ve already taken up enough of your time. It was really good seeing you again, Hope, and I truly wish you all the best.”
“Thanks. And you, too. With the plant hunting and all.”
He offers a small smile, and instead of leaving right away, we just stare at each other—blinking, lingering. Then, as if my body has finally remembered itself, I turn and walk away.
After just a few steps, I spin around and call out to Kaden. He’s still in the exact spot I left him, watching me intently, motionless.
“If you’re free tomorrow,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel, “My son will be spending a few hours at his uncle’s place, so I’ll have a bit of time to help you pick out some plants.”
His mouth curls into a broad smile. “I’m free.”
“Okay.” I nod slowly. “I’ll call in the morning.”
“You still have my number?”
“No, but I still have the message you sent me on Facebook with your number in it.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah. Well, um... I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I nod, then give a small wave. “Bye.”
“Bye, Hope.”
As I head towards the car park, my shoulders drop and my grip on the box loosens, as if I’d been wound up tight the entire time and it’s only now, after putting some distance between us, that my body finally relaxes.
I don’t know what possessed me to say that. We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in over a year. The last thing I should be doing is helping this man out, the very same man whose girlfriend cheated on him with my ex-husband.
It’s just plant shopping, Hope. Not a date.
And that’s exactly what it is: just a plant enthusiast, simply helping a clueless stranger pick out plants for his apartment.
Yeah, that’s it. I convince myself. That’s all it is.