Chapter Two #2
“Mmm.” She’s right. And I have to try to stop worrying about what people will think of my parenting choices, and instead focus on what’s best for Max. “So… how are you? You seem very happy here.”
She nods. “Yeah, it’s a great place to work. Best thing I ever did, coming here last year.”
“And how are you and Jude? Are we going to be hearing wedding bells soon?”
Her smile fades, and she looks out to sea. “Don’t know… maybe. He hasn’t asked me to marry him yet. I’d like to settle down, put down some roots, have kids, but I don’t think he’s grown out of his ‘sow your wild oats’ phase yet.”
“Aw, I’m sure it’ll happen soon.” I glance back at the boys. “I’m so sorry for my faux pas in there. I hope I didn’t embarrass you both too much.”
She just laughs. “That’s okay. He went to school with Jude. We’re just good friends.”
It was clear from the way Archer looked at her that he’d like to be more than friends. I don’t say that, though.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Beth says. “I think it’ll be really good for you. And for him.” She nods at the boys.
“You mean Max?”
“Him as well.”
I don’t have time to reply. Archer is still unclipping Cookie and lifting her off the table. Cullen and Max are making their way to the door. We smile as they come out, Ghost at their feet.
“The morning meeting should be over now,” Cullen says. “Shall we head over to the clinic?”
“Sure.” I smile at Beth, and we hug a final time. “See you later.”
“Have a great day.”
Max and I follow Cullen and Ghost out of the gate and along the path that leads behind the Ark to the clinic on the other side.
We’re halfway there when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I turned it off yesterday when I left, and only turned it back on this morning.
I take it out and check the screen. It’s Rob.
“Sorry, I just need to take this,” I tell Cullen.
“No worries.” We’re close to a fence that runs around a paddock. A horse is looking over the gate beneath a large oak tree. “Come and talk to Hector,” Cullen says. “He was supposed to have been rehomed ages ago, but he lives here now.”
I answer the phone, watching them walk over to the gate. “Hello?”
“Where are you?” Rob demands. “I went around to your parents and you weren’t there, and they won’t tell me where you’ve gone.”
I jam my hand into my pocket, my shoulders tense. “I’ve gone away for a while.”
“What? Where?”
“Just away. Max and I need some time alone.”
He’s quiet for a moment. Then he says, “For how long?”
“I’ll be back after the New Year.”
“The New Year! You mean you won’t be here for Christmas?”
“No.”
“Isla… come on… I’m sorry, you know I am. It won’t happen again.”
I’m clenching my jaw so tight, it’s hard to get the words out. “That’s what you said last time.”
“Please… I feel terrible. I know I shouldn’t have done it. Don’t make this harder. Can I speak to Max?”
“No.”
“He’s my son.” His voice hardens. “I have a right to talk to him.” Then he turns pleading. “I want to say sorry. Please, Isla. Don’t make it worse than it already is.”
I glance over at the gate. Max is talking to the horse and stroking his nose as it looks over the gate. Cullen is leaning on the fence, watching me, although he looks away as I catch his eye.
I turn around so he can’t see my face. “Hitting me was one thing,” I say slowly. “I’m an adult, and it was my choice to stay and try to work things out. But lashing out at Max is unacceptable. I blame myself for putting him in that situation. I have to do what’s best for Max.”
“What’s best for Max is to be with his mother and father, together. You don’t want to be a single parent.”
I stay as calm as I can, although I’m trembling. “After what you did, you don’t get to say what’s best for him. In the New Year, I’ll be applying for a divorce. We’re done. Don’t call me again, because I won’t answer.” I end the call and slide my phone back into my pocket.
Wrapping my arms tightly around myself like a shield, I turn back to the boys. Cullen says something to Max, who stays petting Hector, and then he walks over to me and stands in front of me.
I continue to tremble. Tears prick my eyes. I feel as if someone’s reached inside me and ripped out my heart.
He doesn’t say anything. He just opens his arms. I walk into them, and he closes his arms around me and gives me a hug.
I rest my head on his shoulder, fighting against tears. “Sorry,” I whisper. It’s little more than a squeak.
“Shh.” He rubs my back.
We stand there like that for about thirty seconds, while I fight to regain control of my emotions. The summer sun is warm, and I can smell the ocean. A cow lows in one of the paddocks. Max is talking to Hector, telling him about his dinosaur. Beside him, Ghost sneezes, and Max says, “Bless you.”
Cullen’s cologne smells of vetiver—freshly cut grass and leather, earthy and warm. The hollow at the base of his neck is just an inch from my lips. It feels amazing just to be close to someone.
I move back a little and wipe my eyes. “Sorry,” I say again.
He lowers his arms. “It’s okay.”
“It was my husband.” I feel as if I owe him an explanation. Or do I want him to know my situation? “I told him I’m applying for a divorce in the New Year.”
His eyebrows rise. He studies me thoughtfully. “Maybe some time away will put things right.”
“No,” I say firmly. His eyebrows lift higher at my vehement tone. I continue, “Last Christmas, he hit me. He was drunk, and afterward he cried and said he’d never do it again. Like a fool, I believed him, and I stayed. And then a week ago, he hit Max.”
Cullen’s eyes narrow.
“It’s my fault,” I say savagely.
He puts his hands on his hips. “No, absolutely, one hundred percent, it’s not.”
“If I hadn’t stayed—”
“It’s not your fault. And you’ve done the right thing by leaving.”
“I went to a friend’s house for a few days, and then I spoke to Beth. I told her I didn’t want to go home for Christmas. She went to Noah and asked if I could work here for the summer.”
“It was a great idea. A nice break for you both.”
I swallow hard. “I’ve taken Rob’s son away, at Christmas…”
“It’s just another day. He’ll survive.”
“He’s going to be super mad, though.”
“Let him,” he says simply. “He’s not your problem anymore.”
It’s a revelation, like the sun coming up. I’m leaving him. I no longer have to worry about his moods and depression.
A father can’t hit his six-year-old boy and think nothing is going to change. I know I did the right thing. But my heart still feels heavy. I vowed to stay with him till death parts us. I promised to love him forever. And I know the guilt I bear at walking away will linger for a while yet.