Chapter 46
CHAPTER
A week later, Ferne’s ankle had improved dramatically. Though she still wore the walking boot, she could move around with less pain and when she took it off to shower, she could bear more weight on that leg. She’d ditched the painkillers too.
Pity pharmaceutical companies didn’t make an analgesic for the pain of broken hearts.
There hadn’t been a day since Taj had walked out of her apartment that she hadn’t thought about him. Rehashing every word he said to her. Admiring his fortitude in revealing his feelings. Mentally kicking herself for handling the situation so poorly.
Worse, he’d been right. She hadn’t changed.
She still viewed the world—and every man in it—with mistrust. With Mac, she’d put her faith in the wrong man, and he’d tainted her with his callous indifference to the point that she’d learned to treat others the same way.
She held her friends at arm’s length, never fully revealing herself to them; she’d become wary in business; and she didn’t tell Cruz the truth when she should’ve.
He’d deserved to know about his father’s hidden life at the time she’d discovered it.
Maybe it wouldn’t have been such a shock for him to learn about Roger’s affection for Mac if she’d told him.
She’d texted her son a few times over the last week, but he’d rarely responded straight away, leaving her staring at her phone, waiting for those three magical little dots to appear to indicate she wasn’t completely alone in this world.
When he eventually responded, the message had been brief, about him being swamped, trying to get the restaurant ready for opening and handling the admin side of the farm, which she’d done for years.
He still hadn’t responded to her text from earlier this morning and rather than brooding over his lack of contact, she’d been toying with an idea: What if she spent the rest of her time recuperating on the farm?
She could lend a hand and have a real, honest, face-to-face conversation with Cruz about everything: how he was coping, how he really felt being back, how he’d been dealing with the emotional fallout from his father’s secrets.
In her resentment at being tethered to the farm for years and her desperation to escape the place, she’d abandoned the one person who needed her support the most. What kind of mother did that make her?
And the way she’d treated Taj, inserting a business question, asking for a favour while she’d been in the process of hurting him … awful.
She’d picked up the phone several times over the last week, wanting to call Taj and apologise.
But, true to form, she’d quashed her impulse each time, using well-worn excuses like ‘he needs space’ and ‘time apart will give us perspective’.
She’d used the same self-talk in her marriage and where had it got her?
Living a loveless lie and hiding her unhappiness beneath a brittle veneer of fake smiles and endless volunteering.
Taj deserved better. Heck, she deserved better, and before she could second-guess herself, she picked up her phone, brought up her recent call list and tapped on Taj’s name.
Predictably, he didn’t pick up and her call went through to voicemail, so she took a deep breath and launched into the spiel she hoped would convince him she did have feelings for him and hated how she’d treated him.
‘Hey, Taj, it’s me. Sorry it’s taken me so long to call but I’m a chicken and felt so bad about everything that I didn’t know what to say.
Still don’t, to be honest, but I need you to know this.
You’re right. I was judgemental and walked away from the best thing to ever happen to me because of it.
I never stopped thinking about you or kicking myself for settling for a man so wrong for me because I was almost forty and wanted a kid.
Not leaving the farm with you is the biggest regret of my life, along with breaking up with you the first time.
I guess my cynicism couldn’t believe you’d reappeared in my life now, let alone allow me to contemplate you’d want us to live together so soon.
I’m not an impulsive person, never have been.
But I’m trying to trust my feelings more, and I do have feelings for you.
I’m heading back to Kinstead for a while, but when I return to Melbourne, I hope you’ll have a coffee with me?
Try to re-establish some kind of friendship, and see what develops from there? Bye.’
As she hung up, she cringed at the abrupt ending to her rambling message.
But she couldn’t end with ‘I love you’, because that kind of declaration sounded crazy after the way she’d flung his feelings back in his face when he revealed she’d always been the one for him.
She doubted he’d listen to her voicemail let alone want to grab that coffee in the not too distant future.
Though at least she’d tried and could now head back to the farm with some semblance of peace.
Though before she left, she had to call Bette too.
Her friend picked up on the fifth ring, and Ferne heard loud traffic in the background.
‘Have I caught you at a bad time, Bette?’
‘No, I’m taking Obi for a quick walk, but there’s been an accident on the freeway so traffic has been diverted along local roads and it’s bedlam. Hold on, I’m about to duck into a park where it should be quieter.’
Ferne smiled as she heard Bette talking to her dog.
‘Obi, we’ve talked about this. It’s not polite to sniff butts other than your own.
’ She’d miss her new friend, but it wouldn’t be for long.
She’d be back sooner rather than later, once she’d given Cruz some of the TLC he deserved and herself a chance to heal.
She’d spent her life longing to run. Even when she’d been with a guy who loved her unconditionally, she’d deemed him not good enough and left.
In doing so, she’d ended up with an unsuitable man because she wanted stability and a child, and had still wanted to run.
Lately, she’d run again, from the farm and her dead husband’s secrets.
And in craving a transient life of travel, she hoped to outrun her past.
Time to stop running.
‘Okay, Ferne, I’m back. How are you? How’s the ankle? Need anything?’
‘Thanks, I’m good. The ankle is healing, but I wanted to let you know I’m heading back to the farm for a few weeks. My son sounds like he’s swamped, and I can recuperate there while helping out, taking the boring admin off his plate so he can attend to the everyday necessities.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’ Bette paused. ‘How’s Taj taking the news? I can’t have my mate pining for weeks.’
Ferne had wondered if Taj had told Bette how she’d ended things between them, but like a true gentleman, it seemed he hadn’t said a word.
But Ferne didn’t want Bette bailing up Taj and asking about their relationship; she had to say something even if she felt disloyal discussing their situation behind his back.
‘Actually, I haven’t seen him in a week. I acted like an ass and said some awful things, so we’re cooling it for now.’
‘Sorry to hear that. Taj is one of the good ones.’
Didn’t Ferne know it. Tears stung her eyes.
‘For what it’s worth, Ferne, I’d give anything for a guy like Taj to look at me the way he looks at you.
Take it from someone who knows, once you’re over fifty, dating is the pits.
Men either have enough baggage to weigh down a plane, or they’re going through a midlife crisis and cheating, or they’re too old and past it.
’ She made a pfft sound. ‘I’m still putting myself out there in the hope of finding happiness, even if it’s fleeting.
So if you’ve already found it, my advice is to grab it with both hands and hang on.
And I’m not just saying that because Taj is a friend.
You’re both good people and deserve it.’
Bette’s pep talk made Ferne want to book an Uber and head over to Taj’s house. But she needed to give him time to listen to her message—hopefully—and herself time to confront her demons before she could embrace the idea of them.
‘Thanks, Bette. I’ve already called him and grovelled, so I’ll wait until I come back to reach out again.’
‘And if you want me to give him a kick up the backside, just let me know.’
Ferne chuckled and Bette joined in.
‘Don’t be a stranger while you’re on the farm, okay? I won’t pester you, but feel free to text or call any time.’
‘Shall do. You take care and we’ll share a bottle of chardonnay when I return.’
‘You’re on.’
After Bette hung up, Ferne dashed away the tears with the back of her hand and pulled up the country train timetable.
Time to head back to the place she couldn’t wait to escape.