Chapter Fifteen
Ethan
I feel like a complete shit.
I’ve been a shit to Sadie. I’ve been a shit to my family. And I’ve been a shit to myself. But I can’t face the wildflower meadow at Mum and Dad’s place. It’s where we finally scattered Jessie’s ashes. Only a few weeks ago.
How can I be there, where she is? How can I stay in that house with the thoughts I’m having about Sadie? The feelings I’m having about Sadie.
I don’t care that it’s two years since Jess passed. It’s only weeks since I laid her to rest. And here I am, feeling things I have no business feeling. For someone I have no business feeling them for. Someone who has made it clear she doesn’t welcome them.
And despite my explanation of why Sadie was there, it was obvious the family were all hoping there was more to it. Because they want me to be happy. And they think Sadie might help with that. I know Ben wouldn’t have said anything about my chat with him, nor Rosanna. I trust them implicitly. But all that ‘oh, so sorry we can’t take you back to Sydney, Ethan’ crap. Please. I can see right through them.
I lay across the bed and close my eyes as though that will drown out the pinging of my phone. They’ll be wondering where we are. They won’t understand why we’re not at the house. Or worse. They’re probably thinking I wanted to get Sadie alone. Which is not why we’re at the B & B. I sit up and grab my phone. I need to shut this shit down.
Ignoring the family group chat that’s still going off, I open my one-on-one chat with Ben. He’ll get it. And he’ll be able to call everyone off.
Me
Hey, Bee. Staying at the B & B. Nothing is going on. Couldn’t face staying at the house. Hate to put you in the middle, but can you get everyone to stand down?
Ben
No problem. Leave it with me
I’m about to respond when I see the little dots bouncing.
If something’s going on, that’s ok you know. You’re entitled
It’s not like that
Shame. I liked her. So did Ro
Except it is like that. Or it could be if I could get out of my own head. And if she wasn’t a student. And if I wasn’t such an emotional dumpster fire. So maybe it couldn’t—or at least shouldn't—be like that.
I sign off with the middle finger emoji we’ve all used since we first got mobile phones back in high school. Sure, it’s juvenile. But it’s tradition.
Whatever Ben says to the family works because the messages stop immediately. Leaving me to stew in silence.
I’m about to drag my sorry arse off the bed at five fifty-eight when there’s a knock on the door.
“Hey. I thought you might need a toothbrush and some deodorant.” Sadie holds up the kind of little travel kit you can pick up in the supermarket.
“Oh. Wow. Thanks. That’s very thoughtful.” Ugh. How awkward can a relatively intelligent grown man be?
I toss it on the bed.
“Ready for some dinner? The pub food here is pretty good, I hear.”
I’ve spent no time at all in Bangalay. Mum and Dad bought the place not long before I disappeared overseas. So the only time I’ve been here was when we scattered Jess’s ashes. Afterwards, I couldn’t get away fast enough. I’m aware one day I’ll have to make the effort, but that’s probably not today. Or tomorrow.
“Sure.” Sadie smiles a little awkwardly. This can’t be easy for her. She’ll have picked up on the tensions.
I spend the short walk to the pub arguing with myself about how to handle the pickle I’ve got myself in. My mother raised us on a steady diet of honesty and treating others how you would want them to treat you. If I was Sadie, I’d want an explanation. So once we’re seated in the beautifully restored traditional dining room and we’ve ordered our meal and a bottle of wine, I clear my throat.
“I’m sorry about my behaviour this afternoon, Sadie.” She goes to interrupt, but I hold up a hand. “You’ve gone above and beyond anything anyone could expect, and I was abrupt and rude, and I’d like to explain.”
“An apology is more than enough. You don’t need to explain.”
“Maybe not. But I want to. You may not know, but two years ago, my wife … died.” Sadie nods, which is not surprising. There are very few secrets in the world where we work. “Her ashes are scattered in a wildflower meadow on Mum and Dad’s farm. This is the first time I’ve been here since.”
“Oh, Ethan. I’m so sorry.” Tears spring to her eyes. One hand leaps to her mouth, and the other creeps across the table to rest gently over my wrist.
“I didn’t want to stay there because I’m not ready to go back yet.”
“That’s totally understandable.”
I don’t know where it comes from. Maybe it’s the compassion and understanding in her expression or her tone of voice. Whatever it is, something prompts me to make an admission I didn’t even know was hovering on my tongue.
“It seems like that’s my go-to response. When things get emotional, I shut down and walk away. That’s what I did when she died. Just walked away. Literally. Left the house and everything in it, got on a plane and flew to London.”
“I don’t think anyone could blame you for that. Sometimes, our subconscious takes over. Protects us from things we’re not ready to face.” She hesitates. “What happened to the house? I mean, was the one where we, where I …”
“No. That was a new house. My parents packed everything up, put it in storage and rented the house out. When I decided it was time to come back, I asked Ben to look around and find a house for me. He bid for me at the auction. The only things in that house from before Jess died are my books. And me.” Saying it out loud like that, it strikes me how much I asked of my parents when they were grieving too. And of Ben. Yet none of them hesitated. Or questioned. They were just there. When and where I needed them. I can’t take them for granted again.
Christ, I sound like a pathetic character. Any lingering feelings of attraction Sadie might’ve had have surely been extinguished by my inability to pick myself up and carry on.
“Sometimes a break is what we need to give our heart time to heal. You did what you had to do to get through a terrible experience. And you’ve come out the other side. That’s something to be proud of.”
That shocks me. I search her face and find nothing but sincerity.
I’m saved from answering by the server delivering our shared three dip entrée.
We eat in silence for a few minutes until Sadie seems to come to a decision.
“You know what? If you don’t want to go to your parents’ farm, you don’t have to. Nobody gets to tell you how you feel or when you’re ready to face it. But your brother brought two beautiful babies into the world today. Literally. I think that’s cause for celebration.” She holds up her glass. “To Will and Freyja and Theo and Cora.”
And that’s exactly what I needed. A line drawn under it. Sure, I’m yet again turning my back on dealing with shit. I know one day I’ll be able to face it. Until then, I’m good.
Mostly.