Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Current Day
Matilda’s phone rang and woke her up. It took her a minute to realise what the sound was since she was dead to the world. It was early. Too early to be getting out of bed. Still dark outside. She slapped one hand around on the bedside table until she found the phone, then held it to her ear, eyes still squeezed shut.
“Hello?” Her voice was gravelly, she cleared her throat.
“Is that you, Tilly? You sound different. What’s wrong?” Cam’s nasal voice boomed down the line at her, startling her into wakefulness.
“Huh? Oh, I’m jet lagged. That’s all. I’m fine. I was sleeping. You know there’s a fourteen hour time difference, right?”
“I forgot about that. Besides, I can’t seem to work out when is the best time to call you, but I figure you’ll be happy to hear from me at any time. Right?”
She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Uh … yeah. Of course. What’s going on, Cam?”
“I miss you. When are you coming home?”
She frowned. “You miss me? You broke up with me.”
“We both decided we should take some time to think about our relationship, where we’re headed. And I’ve done that. Have you?”
What was this? Some kind of retrograde amnesia? Or was he gaslighting her?
“Okay, I’m glad you’ve been thinking about us. I have too.” She hadn’t much. Had been too busy enjoying her vacation to pay him much mind. But she’d given him a few moments of thought when she was talking to Rita about him.
She pushed the covers off, remembering in that instant how she’d wound up there. She’d been carried to her bed and gently placed beneath the covers. Ryan had even pulled the covers up high under her chin and tucked her in. She recalled it all with vivid clarity, and it made her skin tingle.
“Hello? Are you listening to me?” Cam sounded annoyed.
Matilda tried to focus. She padded over to the coffee maker on top of the set of drawers against the wall and pressed the on button. It immediately began percolating coffee.
“Hmmm? What’s that? Sorry, I missed what you were saying.”
“I asked when you’re coming home? My boss and his wife are coming over to my place for dinner in two weeks and I need you here.”
She searched one of the drawers for a clean mug, found it and set it on top of the drawers. “Huh? You need me to be at a meeting? I’m sorry, Cam, I’m in America. You know that.”
He grunted. “I know, Captain Obvious. I’m asking you to come home so you can help me out.”
“You want me to host a dinner for your boss … at your house?” She’d done it a dozen times before. It was no big deal. But they’d been dating at the time. And even though she thought it a little strange for him to ask her to do that since they didn’t live together and weren’t married, she’d given in because that’s what she always did. She hated to cause any conflict. But this time was different. “We broke up, Cam.”
He huffed. “I already told you, it wasn’t a break-up. How many times do you need me to repeat myself? I need you here. I miss you. When are you coming back? You’re not even having a vacation. I don’t know what you’re still doing there.”
“I’m looking for my family. Which I told you about before I left. Why are you so invested in me being at this meeting?” She poured the coffee into the mug, using her shoulder to hold her phone in place against her ear.
“You know how my company is. They like partners to be stable, settled, married. It’s just how they operate. It’s antiquated, but it is what it is. I can’t change it. At least not yet anyway. We’ll see how I do in a few years time.”
“But we’re not married, Cam.”
“I realise that, Matilda, but…”
She hesitated. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’ve got a big day ahead of me and someone woke me up before the crack of dawn. So I might as well take a walk before breakfast. Unless there’s something else you need…”
His silence spoke volumes. He was angry. She could tell. It almost crackled down the phone line. But for some strange reason, she didn’t really much care. She hadn’t ever noticed before just how whiny and entitled he could be, and she suddenly found it highly unattractive.
“So, you’re not coming?” he snapped.
She pressed a smile to her face. His true colours always showed with the slightest pressure applied. “No, I’m not coming. We broke up. You may want to pretend otherwise, but we’re no longer a couple and that was your choice. I suggest you find someone else to play house with for your boss.”
She pressed the button to end the call, suddenly nostalgic for the old-fashioned phone that could be slammed down to hang up. Never mind, no doubt he got the picture. Her smile grew until she felt it in the depths of her soul. She’d stood up to him. Finally. It was over. And all she felt was happiness and relief.
Matilda dressed warmly, then headed out. By now, the sun had tinged the eastern sky with yellow and orange. Her breath billowed like a cloud of smoke in front of her face as she stepped into the cold morning. She pulled on gloves and slapped her hands together, then shoved them into her coat pockets.
Which direction should she take? To the left was the small town of Covington, but it was a long walk in that direction. More of a drive really, probably close to half an hour by car. She was quite far out in the country, and she wasn’t sure what was in the other direction. She turned to the right and started out along the side of the road. There was no sidewalk, something she’d noticed during her time in Atlanta. Very few people walked anywhere, and there was no path designated for walking either. But she loved to take walks, they helped her think clearly and gave her a sense of peace and joy. They were an important ritual each day.
She walked for a good fifteen minutes before she spotted the glimmering surface of the lake through the bare branches of some oak trees. A sign on the side of the road read Jackson Lake. This was the lake Rita lived on. Her house must be nearby.
Matilda took the turn down towards the lake. She’d only seen the occasional car on the way here, but now the road was quiet. It dipped and curved downward. Beside the lake, she walked past a row of houses. Most were older, some in dire need of love, but a few were modern and spacious, gleaming in the morning sunlight.
The only greenery was a few firs, and birds flitted between the bare tree branches. The sun was moving up the sky, warming her up, and she unzipped her jacket. Matilda puffed lightly from climbing a gentle hill, then spotted a mailbox with Osbourne printed on the side. This must be Rita’s house. It was a single-story bungalow painted in dark maroon and browns. Surrounded by shrubbery, it looked cozy and comfortable. There were gnomes and bird statues in the garden. One gnome lay on its side next to an upside-down rowing boat. Behind the house was a footpath that led to a dock, jutting out over the edge of the shimmering water. And an old boat sat idle, moving gently on the wake of a passing pontoon.
She looked to the left—that must be Ryan’s house. It looked to be around the same vintage as Rita’s house, but it was in the throes of renovation. There was scaffolding around the upper level. A new deck had been added, the timber still fresh and bright. The yard was piled with timber and other building supplies. The dock on his property was old, mouldy and in need of repair.
Just then, Ryan stepped outside, shirtless and holding a giant mug in one hand. His sweatpants were slung low around his hips. His entire body was toned and tanned. His breath puffed in a white cloud in front of him and he looked up at the sky, then stood, surveying the lake for a few moments. Sipped his coffee and then stepped back inside.
Matilda realised she was staring. How mortifying it would’ve been if he’d turned to see her standing still, clearly looking directly at him and his property. She’d frozen in place. Didn’t want to catch his eye. She quickly spun on her heel to return to the bed and breakfast, her heart racing. That was a close call.