Chapter Three
Lydia’s Diary, Seven Years Old
Dear Diary,
Mum said the Hunter boys are gonna stay with us for a bit because their mum is in the hospital. Mum asked if I would let them sleep in the spare bed in my room. I was mad. I didn’t want a boy sleeping in my room.
Yuck!
Liam had flowers and said thank you and Mum cried.
That was so weird! Ren looked really, really sad.
I asked if he wanted to play in my room.
I told him it could be his room too if he wanted.
And he smiled. Ren NEVER smiles. He’s always so sad.
But I liked it when he smiled because he looked happier.
I gave him all my favourite things. My new Barbie car. It felt nice to make him happy.
Love,
Lydia.
Lydia
‘I’ve had the day from hell,’ I murmured, clinging to Casey, savouring the smell of her musk perfume, my pulse quickening as I pressed her closer, almost afraid to let go.
My fingers brushed lightly against her arms before pulling back.
She looked a little perplexed, but she had a warm, open expression as her eyes scanned my face.
Yes, this is what I needed. Casey. She made everything better.
‘You’re not going to believe it when I tell you.’ I lowered myself into the seat.
Lily’s, Everly Heath’s best restaurant, was packed and I couldn’t help but smile at the unmistakable touch of my cousin, Kat, woven into every inch of the restaurant.
She helped Liam design the space before its grand opening last year.
After re-inventing herself as an interior designer, she opened her own interiors shop just a few doors down from Lily’s, filled with fabric samples, wallpaper and little brass door handles I was a little obsessed with.
Kat had slipped into life here so seamlessly, it felt like it had been inevitable all along.
‘Yeah?’ Casey frowned.
She looked impossibly cool, wearing a cropped brown leather jacket, black wide-leg jeans and her favourite cherry-red Doc Martens.
Casey loved dark colours and sharp tailoring, which meant we were probably the only same-sex couple who didn’t share a wardrobe.
She couldn’t stand athleisure, and I couldn’t stand stiff clothes.
They were suffocating, and I needed to move.
The only thing we shared was her lipstick, because Casey liked to kiss it on my cheeks, blending it with her fingers, giving my complexion a soft pink glow in more ways than one.
Casey and I met at Momentum Fitness, and celebrated our six-month anniversary last week.
Supposedly, Kat had clocked that Casey liked me when we had ordered from the cafe.
I was convinced she was just being friendly and, from experience, it was always harder to tell when women were flirting with you.
So I took a risk, asked Casey out, and Kat had been right.
Casey had blushed pink, asking for my number.
Our first date was almost too perfect. I met her at a cocktail bar, and we drank orange wine and laughed about people we worked with.
I was hooked on the scent of her perfume and the sharp black of her eyeliner.
Things moved fast. We spent all our time together, so I asked her if she wanted to move in after a few weeks.
She had laughed, eyes crinkling, and said yes.
That night I bought us champagne – and tasted it on her skin.
I wasn’t sure I would forget how her lips had pressed to mine that night, soft and daring.
My fingers tracing the curve of her neck, then I traced it with my lips.
We hadn’t moved out of bed for hours that night.
I might have lost my job, but at least I had Casey, right?
‘Hey, you know I’m so lucky to have you, right?’ I said, leaning my hand across the table.
Casey pulled her hand back, biting her lip, ‘Lydia, I have some… news too.’
‘What’s up?’
Casey could look anywhere but at me.
She didn’t answer, making blood rush to my head. My system was already on high alert after everything that had happened with Craig.
‘Casey, you’re freaking me out.’
Her fingers twitched nervously with the gingham napkin, but when our eyes finally locked, a soft sadness settled there.
‘I—’ she stuttered, her big brown eyes shifting down. ‘I wanted to tell you at a good time. But we haven’t seen each other all week. You’ve been so busy and now I’m thinking this is a mistake, maybe we should talk at home.’
‘It’s fine—’ I leaned across the table, grazing her soft hands. ‘You can tell me any—’
‘I’m moving to London,’ she blurted out, pulling her hand back from mine.
Blood drained from my face for the second time that day. I took a breath, leaning back in my chair. It felt like someone had just hit me in the stomach.
‘What do you mean? What do you mean you’re moving to London? Josh,’ I called over the young waiter. ‘Could I get some wine, please? Anything really—’
‘Sure, Lydia.’ Josh smiled.
Casey reached out, stilling me with a touch. ‘Lyd.’
‘I’m fine. It’s just,’ I squeezed my eyes shut. ‘London? Really?’
Casey exhaled, her brown eyes steady and warm. ‘I got a place at Central St Martins.’
‘Oh, my God.’ I suddenly felt like the worst girlfriend on the planet. ‘Casey, that’s amazing! I knew you could do it.’
Casey had been developing her craft as a print-maker for the last year.
She started making greetings cards, wedding invitations, and now she made handmade prints that Kat loved and stocked in her store a few doors down.
But Casey really wanted to train formally, and she had mentioned applying for Central St Martins, the world-renowned arts and design college in London, a couple of times.
But then she’d said it as a throwaway comment, like she hadn’t liked her odds.
It was competitive, not to mention expensive.
Casey gave me a tight smile. ‘Thanks.’
‘It’s a full-time course. Two years. My uncle has offered me a room at his to stay, rent-free. So I’d only need to get a part-time job to pay the fees, plus I can use some money I have saved.’
I nodded, my mind whirling, trying to keep up.
‘Okay. That’s fine,’ my voice squeaked, but my heart was clenched tight, an ache blooming in my chest. ‘We can make that work.’
‘Lydia.’ Casey’s face was marred with sympathy, her fingers squeezing mine gently before pulling away. ‘I don’t think we should do long-distance.’
‘Long-distance,’ I scoffed. ‘It’s three hours on the train, Casey. That isn’t long-distance.’
‘You work evenings and weekends. It wouldn’t be fair. I know how much you love your job.’
I should have told her about my day, about the pain aching in my chest. But I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d ruin her day and sour her good news.
‘I can work around it.’
It’s not like I have a job now anyway.
‘I really like you, Casey. I think we could make this work.’
She paused, studying my face. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
For the second time today my stomach bottomed out. She was serious about this. She was going to end it. My pulse thudded.
‘I don’t think we should do long-distance.’
‘But why?’ I leaned forward. ‘Things are so good. We moved in together.’
‘I moved out this morning.’
My breath caught in my throat. ‘What? When – when did you find out about the uni course?’
‘A couple of weeks ago.’
‘Casey,’ I croaked.
I could barely swallow. Casey had been planning all of this – plotting all of this – while she’d been sleeping next to me. While we discussed what to make for tea or idly chatted about our day. She had been plotting to leave me the entire time.
‘I know, I’m sorry.’ She rubbed a palm over her face, smudging her eyeliner a little, but then she reached across the table, brushing a stray hair behind my ear with such tenderness it took my breath away. ‘I didn’t know how I felt. I didn’t know how I felt until now, and now I’m sure.’
‘You’re sure about breaking up with me,’ I repeated, needing the information to sink in.
‘I think it’s best,’ Casey said with a tight-lined mouth.
‘Why?’ I croaked.
‘Because we’re not able to come to this restaurant on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Because we have to cross the road when you see him coming. Because you murmur his name in your sleep.’
Blood drained from my face.
‘Casey, you can’t be serious.’
‘You aren’t over him.’
‘I was never with him.’
The corners of Casey’s mouth pulled down. ‘Don’t give me the same line. Something happened. I know it in my gut. And you won’t share, fine. You don’t want me to know. But the air is thick when you’re in the same room.’
‘We’re never in the same room.’
‘Exactly. And you won’t tell me why you’re so obsessed with avoiding him. Even if you’re deluding yourself into thinking you don’t have feelings for him, I’m certain he has them for you.’
‘He doesn’t.’ I closed my eyes, forcing the words out like a prayer. ‘Trust me, he doesn’t.’
But, even as I said it, my mind betrayed me and pulled me back to a moment from a year ago, carried on the scent of magnolia and musk.
‘Lydia, wait. Let me explain,’ Ren said, shutting the patio doors behind him.
‘How was your trip?’ my voice detached, ghostly, ‘Those long-haul flights can be a pain. Did you get those mini-bottles of gin, though? I’ve always loved those.’
‘Lydia. Look at me. I’m trying to explain.’
‘You don’t have to explain anything. It’s fine.’
‘It’s not fine. I know none of it’s fine.’ Ren rubbed a palm down his face, then pulled a scrap of paper out of his back pocket. ‘I wrote it down, so I could get this right. But the words don’t work now.’
I allowed myself to look at him. He was different. He was tanned, for one thing, with lines on his temples where his sunglasses had sat. He looked a little skinnier, as if he hadn’t eaten properly and had hiked across the Andes or backpacked through crowded cities.
‘Lyd, I’m so sorry. I know I fucked up.’ He stepped forward.
I took a step back. He flinched. ‘You have to believe that I didn’t mean to hurt you.
I know I did, I know. Trust me, I know I fucked up.
I know. I didn’t know how to tell you because I suppose I didn’t want your doubt, doubt that I could do it.
After the fight with Liam, I was so low. ’
I wanted to scream that I would never doubt him, but I held it back.
He took a shaky breath. ‘So that night I panicked. Lydia, you have to believe me that that night meant everything to me—’
Just smile, Lydia.
‘You don’t have to explain anything.’ I smiled, keeping my rage at a distance. He didn’t deserve to see my pain and embarrassment.
‘What do you mean? Of course I do. We’re best friends—’
I meant to give a dry laugh, but it was a hysterical giggle. Ren’s face moulded into confusion.
‘We’re fine, Ren. We can just move on. No harm, no foul.’
‘Lyd. I understand you’re angry. I do. I fucked up, massively.
’ He exhaled, his brown eyes meeting mine.
‘But I came back for you. Not for Liam or the restaurant. I came back for you. When he called about the restaurant, I was already at the airport. I knew it was a mistake when I boarded the flight, but I was so hurt, and I’m sorry—’
I couldn’t listen to this any more.
‘I’m glad you’re back,’ Ren’s eyes softened until I said, ‘Because we can get back to normal. A new normal.’ I nodded to our families inside. ‘They don’t know what’s happened. So I’d prefer no one knew, you know? We can just keep things amiable. Cordial.’
‘Cordial?’
I gave a breezy laugh. ‘I’m fine, you’re fine. We’re all okay. Okay?’
‘Lyd, you can’t be serious. You’re shutting down on me. I know you are. You’re giving me the sunshine act, but you forget I know you—’
‘I’m seeing someone.’
‘Oh—’ Emotions flickered across his face like a flip book. ‘That’s good.’
‘It’s going well. Just thought you should know.’
‘Then can we at least be friends?’ Ren asked, morphing into something that looked like desperation.
I gave him a pat on the shoulder, knowing it would hit home. ‘Cordial, Ren. Let’s leave it at that.’
Before tears threatened to roll down my cheeks, I headed back into the warmth of my family home and for the next year I ignored Ren’s gaze boring into the side of my face.
‘Sauvignon blanc?’
I almost thought it was him – him offering me the glass of wine, until I looked up to find Josh’s youthful, smiling face.
‘Thanks, Josh!’
Silence fell over the table, and I didn’t know what to say. How could I convince her it was nothing when I couldn’t convince myself?
‘I think I should go.’
I watched as Casey carefully picked up her leather handbag, rising from her seat. She paused next to me, debating how to say goodbye. Then, she planted a kiss on my cheek, her lipstick leaving a mark on my cheek for the last time.
‘You’ll thank me eventually. I know it.’