Chapter 23
Kaden
It’s only Monday, the beginning of a brand new week, and already I’m wishing I were anywhere but here, trapped within the four walls of my office.
Emails keep pouring in as I work through them at a steady pace, yet they never seem to end.
The work is tedious and mind-numbingly dull.
I honestly don’t know how I’ve managed to do this, almost every day, for the past thirteen years.
When I joined the company over a decade ago, it was an escape from a shameful past that could have seen me locked up for a very long time had I not walked away when I did.
I was young, na?ve, and blinded by greed.
I did things I’m not proud of, things that could have destroyed my entire life.
I stole products and sold them online, convincing myself I was untouchable.
Even though it lasted less than a year, it’s a chapter of my life I’ll always regret, and would never ever want to revisit.
Ironically, it was Skylar who pulled me out of that life and made me want more.
Made me want better for myself. It took her leaving me the first time to knock some sense into me.
That was the moment I finally pulled my head out of my arse and decided to do something honest and worthwhile with my life—something she could be proud of.
So I searched high and low for a stable, secure job, handing out résumés to every company I could think of.
That search eventually led me here, and I’ve stayed ever since.
I climbed the ladder faster than anyone else, driven purely by hard work and a strong sense of ethics, until I landed my current role as Operations Manager.
As the responsibilities grew, so did the stress, and with it, my insecurity.
I felt a constant need to prove my worth, not just to the executives of the company, but to Skylar.
I never wanted her to see me fail, to think I wasn’t capable of holding down a decent job.
I wanted to show her I could provide for us, for the future children we once talked about.
Instead, in trying so desperately to be enough, I ended up betraying her and destroying her trust. I threw everything away because of my own insecurities and selfish needs. And now, I sit in the very same chair I’ve occupied for years, with so little to show for it.
I suppose that’s why I’ve felt trapped in this strange limbo—needing this job, yet desperate to escape it.
I’ve poured so much time and energy into this company that walking away feels impossible.
But at the same time, I ache to be elsewhere, to chase something that truly excites me.
After the successful sale of my products online, and with Hope’s encouragement ringing in my ears, the urge to turn my passion into a real career has never been stronger.
That reminds me, I haven’t checked the marketplace app to see if anyone else has placed an order. I’m nearly sold out of all the pieces I’m selling, and if I want to keep this momentum, I’ll need to work quickly to create new ones and get them online.
A few people have reached out for bespoke designs, which I’m currently working on, but I still want more of my own designs out there. If I weren’t already working full-time, I’d probably have a storage room overflowing with items ready to sell.
I log into my account and immediately spot three new orders.
Two are small items—a cheeseboard from someone in Melbourne and a wooden trinket box from a buyer in Adelaide, both of which will need to be posted out to them.
The third order, however, has my eyes almost bulging out of their sockets in disbelief.
Because the name on the contact information is one I know all too well: Hope McKenna.
How did she even find my listing? Unless she’d been stalking my Facebook, or had her own account on the app, there’s no way she could have come across it on her own.
And, of course, she’d ordered the most expensive item on my entire listing: an outdoor planter bench.
Makes sense though, given her obsession with plants.
I can’t believe she actually ordered one of my pieces. Part of me wants to feel flattered, but another part feels a little guilty. She just forked out hundreds of dollars for it, when I would have happily given it to her for free, especially after she helped me with my plants yesterday.
The smile on my face probably looks absurd right now, but I don’t care. The thought of Hope owning one of my pieces, and actually using it, fills me with genuine happiness.
Unable to contain my excitement, I send her a quick text.
Me: Hi Hope, I know you’re probably at work, so I’ll keep this brief. Thank you so much for supporting my work and ordering one of my pieces! I can’t wait for you to have it.
There, that should do it—nice and simple. I switch off my phone screen and set it back on the desk, forcing myself to continue plowing through the endless stream of emails. A few minutes pass when I hear my phone buzz, cutting through the dull hum of the office.
Hope: Hello, there! No need to thank me. Like I said, anyone would love to get their hands on one of your pieces. Including me :)
Me: Honestly, I’m really flattered. I have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised to see your name on the order form. How did you even find it?
Hope: I have an account with them, and was shopping around for a new garden bench. That’s when I came across your listing.
Me: I’m glad you did. Because now I know it’s going to a good home.
Hope: It will go perfectly in my new and improved garden.
Me: When would you like it delivered to you?
Hope: I’m home after 6pm on weekdays.
Me: I’ll have my mate Jason’s truck tomorrow. He can help me bring it over then, if that works for you?
Hope: Sure, that’s fine. You can come by at 6:30, right after dinner.
Me: Too easy. I shall see you then.
Hope: See you then, Kaden.
Before switching the device off, I take a quick screenshot of Hope’s address and make sure it’s saved in my photo gallery. Next thing I do is call Jason to see if I could borrow his truck again tomorrow. He picks up after the fourth ring.
“What’s up?” he answers.
“Not much. I’m still at work, but I was calling to see if I could borrow your truck tomorrow.”
“What for?”
“I’ve got another delivery. Someone just bought the planter bench, and I might need your help carrying it.”
“Is that the concrete and jarrah wood bench that you built a month ago?”
“That’s the one.”
“Nice! I loved that bench. I even considered getting it for myself if I could’ve found the space for it.”
“All good. Well, it seems someone else loves it too.”
“Amazing! I knew it wouldn’t be too long before someone snapped it up. It really is an incredible piece.”
“Thanks, man! I really appreciate that.”
“So, what time do you need me to pick you up?”
“Meet at mine around five-thirty in the evening?”
“I can do that for you. Oh, and I’ve been meaning to call you about that rocking chair you made for Mila.
She wanted me to pass on her thanks and tell you she’s never sat in anything more comfortable.
She absolutely loves it. And I don’t know about you, but I reckon that might’ve cracked her armour a little… just saying.”
I let out a quiet chuckle and shake my head.
I hadn’t built the chair to claw my way back into her good graces.
Truthfully, I wasn’t even sure she’d keep it; I’d half-expected to see it abandoned on the kerb, unwanted.
It was simply a gift—one I’d made for her after Isla was born, no strings attached.
“I’m glad she loves it. It should last her for years and hopefully see a few more babies along the way.”
“We’re not in a hurry for another one just yet, but I will tell ya—it’s been pretty fun practicing.”
“Too much info, you fucker! I don’t really need to know what you get up to with my ex-sister-in-law.”
He chuckles, and I can almost see the smug smirk on his face right now.
“Alright, be ready at five-thirty tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you then.”
We end the call, and this time I tuck my phone into the top drawer, out of reach and out of temptation. I’ve already lost nearly an hour to texting and personal calls. The last thing I want is to stay late just to make up for it.
But even as I sit here, staring absentmindedly at the computer screen, I already know I won’t be able to focus, not when all I can think about is seeing Hope at her house, and how much I’m totally looking forward to it.