Chapter 12 Mabel
MABEL
The letters on the screen blur as I stare at them, my cursor flashing impatiently in the blank reply box.
I’ve already typed and deleted my email greeting three times.
It shouldn’t be this hard to commit, but it is.
I either agree to schedule a phone call with my lawyer or I don’t.
If I don’t, the thousands of dollars I’ve already paid her goes to waste, which makes me sick to my stomach. But if I do...
Well, that makes me nauseous as well.
I close my eyes and bring my fingers up to pinch the bridge of my nose.
Which choice is easier to live with? I think I know the answer, but I don’t think I like it.
“Are you okay?”
Aurora’s voice halts the back and forth inside my head, and I snap my eyes open to find her standing in the doorway to the bedroom.
Our shared bedroom.
That’s another detail I’ve yet to fully process.
She’s wearing a pair of shorts, a tank top, and tennis shoes, and I can’t help but do a double take. I haven’t seen her in anything besides loose-fitting sundresses, so my eyes dart from her body in the doorway to my laptop, then back before I can stop myself.
Her tank top is the kind with thin straps and a built-in bra. It’s not tight around her torso, but it leaves little to the imagination. And the way her shorts sit on her wide hips...The way the fabric stretches and smooths over her skin and curves I shouldn’t be noticing...
I glance at her left hand, but there’s still no ring, then I force my eyes to her face and smile.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just obligations I’d rather ignore.” I close my laptop and set it on the couch beside me. “Are you heading out?”
“Yeah. I wanted to check out the walking trails.” She waves the map Ham gave us in the air between us. “Do a little exploring.”
“That sounds like fun.”
She reaches up and toys with the pendant on her necklace, and I follow the movement. I’m admiring the way the silver chain decorates the soft spot where her shoulders meet her neck when she surprises me.
“Do you want to come with? It could help you ignore those obligations a little longer.”
My eyes meet hers, and it’s the shy hope I see that has me standing from the couch.
“I’d like that. Just give me a second to change.”
“You mean you don’t want to hike in a tutu and platform combat boots?’
Her lips twitch into a smirk, and my heart kicks up at the playfulness in her tone.
“Not unless you want to give me a piggyback ride.”
“I probably could, honestly.”
I laugh, lowering my voice as I pass her. “Don’t tempt me with that apple, Eve. I just might bite.”
Her small gasp makes my smile widen as I shut the bedroom door, and it serves as a quiet reminder of how easily I could cross lines with her without even trying.
Married, I remind myself. She’s married. Flirting isn’t harmless when there are other people involved.
I change into a pair of leggings, a sports bra, and a cropped shirt, then pull on my only pair of tennis shoes. I throw my hair into a ponytail, touch up my eyeliner and lipstick, then grab a pair of sunglasses before heading back into the main room of our shared suite.
“Ready?” she asks, and I nod.
“Lead the way.”
I follow Aurora to the lodge lounge, where we pick up two waters, then out onto the grounds, and for a long while, we don’t talk.
We just exist peacefully side by side, appreciating the wild beauty around us.
I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with the scent of eucalyptus and sweet gums as I take it all in.
The trail is earthy beneath my sneakers, and the farther we walk, the more decorated it becomes with fallen leaves and bark.
Colorful birds flash through the trees, their songs echoing like laughter, and every step makes me feel lighter.
Like each exhale relieves me of an invisible weight, and each inhale fills the open space with something fresh and new.
Something clean and unburdened. It’s exactly what I’ve been needing.
“It’s perfect.”
Aurora gives voice to my thoughts, her tone almost dreamy. I turn and find her gazing up at the canopy with a small smile playing on her plump lips. She looks like something out of a fairy tale. Magical and alluring and effortless.
The sunlight filtering through the trees casts a patchwork of glittery shadows on her bare shoulders, the silver chain of her necklace shimmers when it catches the light, and there’s a smear of sunscreen on her collarbone that I didn’t notice before.
My pulse stutters, and I fist my hands to keep from reaching out.
To fight the urge to rub it into her skin.
I should be thinking about elevation and trail markers, not how she would feel beneath my fingertips.
I should be admiring the natural beauty of Mount Lofty and the Adelaide Hills, but I can’t bring myself to look away from her.
The way the light dances along her cheekbones, the softness of her mouth, the sparkle of green in her eyes.
She’s not even trying to hold my attention, and that almost makes it worse.
Married. She’s married. I’m dating someone. I repeat it in my head three times and look away from her before I reply.
“It is. And Sav was worried we’d prefer a five-star hotel over this.”
“I still can’t believe I’m here. I used to want to travel when I was younger, but I kind of gave up on that dream. I didn’t think it was possible.”
My brows fold inward. “You’re only twenty-three, Aurora.”
Twenty-three.
To think of her giving up on any dream makes my chest ache with sorrow, especially at twenty-three. She reaches up and rubs the circular pendant on her necklace.
“You sound like my uncle.”
“Oh God.” I laugh. “Ham might be a hard-ass, but I think he’s right about this one.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess it just doesn’t fit into my life plan anymore.”
My eyes fall to her left hand again. No ring.
I reach out and brush my fingers down her forearm, and when she looks at me, I have to suppress a shiver. This isn’t a stage. There’s no audience out here. But something about Aurora’s attention feels better than any concert. More thrilling than any spotlight.
“Life is full of changes. No plan is set in stone.”
My fingertips tingle from the fleeting caress, and I hold her gaze for a few more breaths. I commit every fleck of green and gold and brown in her eyes to memory, and then I look away.
“What else did you use to want? Before now.”
“A greenhouse and poetry.”
I feel her eyes on me, assessing my reaction—searching for any hint of judgment—so I smile.
“Tell me more.”
In the silence that passes, I almost expect her not to answer, but then she surprises me.
“I went to school for creative writing. I wanted to be a published poet. I didn’t have delusions of grandeur, though. I didn’t think I’d become famous or anything like that. I just wanted to see my words in print with my name on the book cover. I wanted to create something that would last.”
Something that would last.
I feel that statement in my bones. It’s why I clung so hard to this band, even when everything was falling apart.
For so long, nothing in my life was stable.
Nothing was certain or true. Nothing was built to last. But this band, this family.
We had staying power. I knew it. I believed it as fiercely as I believed my own heartbeat, and I couldn’t let go.
“I get that,” I say honestly. “It’s one of the reasons Heartless is so important to me. I’ve helped create something that will last long after we’re all gone. And the greenhouse? You want to grow flowers?”
“Yeah. Flowers. Vegetables. Greenery. Everything. Anything. I want to grow it all. I think I like plants more than people.”
I laugh at the smile I hear in her voice, and when I look at her, I can see proof of the truth in her words. Here, surrounded by things that grow wild and untamed, she’s glowing. She belongs.
“I think you need to rework that life plan, Roar.”
Her eyes shoot to mine. “Why?”
I twirl my fingers in a circle around her face. “Because anything that makes you smile like this should be a priority. You should look like this all the time.”
She blinks, her voice dropping to a whisper that nearly blends in with the breeze.
“Like what?”
“Alive.”
Her lips part, that same expression from earlier passing over her features. Like she’s been found, but she doesn’t know how to handle it. Like she doesn’t know if she wants to return to hiding or not.
When she doesn’t speak, I give in to temptation and brush my fingers over the sunscreen on her collarbone.
She sucks in a sharp breath, but she doesn’t move away.
Her lashes flutter, like she’s fighting the urge to shut them, and she ever so slightly leans into my touch as I rub until the white cream disappears.
“Sunscreen,” I whisper. “You missed some.”
“Thank you.”
The hushed rasp of her voice makes goose bumps appear on my arms and chest. I step back, filling my lungs once more with the clean, calming scent of eucalyptus in hopes that it will slow my galloping pulse. It doesn’t.
I don’t trust myself not to do something I shouldn’t, so I turn back to the trail and start walking. After three steps, she follows, and I catch her toying with her necklace again.
“What’s on your necklace?”
Aurora drops her hand and offers me a small smile.
“More personal questions, Mabel?”
She tosses my own evasive words back at me, and damn if it doesn’t make my stomach flip.
She’s being playful, and I want more of it.
I let out a laugh that dances between us.
It lightens the mood, but it doesn’t lessen the tension.
It almost seems to grow thicker, crackling, drawing me closer to her.
“Too much too soon?”
She shrugs coyly. “That depends.”
“On what?”
She purses her lips and taps her chin with her index finger as she scans my face. I narrow my eyes.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?”