10. He didn’t say, “I want a lifetime, too.”
10
He didn’t say, “I want a lifetime, too.”
Zach
The bell jingled.
Habit lifted my gaze off the spot knotted in the hardwood floor. I’d watched the door at Brew Haha for months, hoping to catch a glimpse of Eden. I’d only stopped my daily habit when she’d started walking into the coffee shop with me. We’d join the line. She’d smile, wave, and dole out the charm, and I’d sneak a kiss on her neck.
“Stop that,” she’d whisper, even though she’d arch her neck for my lips to find the soft spot below her ear.
These days, Eden floated through the door alone.
She didn’t hesitate when she spotted me through the crowd. She flipped her ponytail over her shoulder, smiled, waved, and doled out the charm like always…but not to me. She was proving a point. I hadn’t hurt her. No. I didn’t even exist.
Eden set a cup on the counter. White with—I adjusted my glasses—roosters. The rose gold mug she’d used every other day for the last three months sat beside her fluffy cat keychain on my kitchen counter. The only two things she’d left behind, and probably on purpose. I’d bought her both.
The cashier beamed the special smile she reserved just for Eden. “New mug?”
“New me.”
“Cute chickens.”
“Roosters,” Eden corrected, her grin turning sly. “A woman can never have too many c-o-c-k-s.” She winked at the cashier, but her head swivelled, her lips curved. She was making sure I’d heard her. She wanted to see my reaction.
If she turned a little more, she’d see my frown and the jealous eyes tinged with the misery of missing her. If anyone with a c-o-c-k dared to go near her, I wasn’t sure what I’d do. Something stupid, probably.
Eden stuffed a ten-dollar note in the tip jar and waved a few hellos. It didn’t take her long to start a conversation with a woman bouncing a baby on her hip. Eden avoided looking at the little blob with his mop of red fuzz, but he was determined to get her attention. He gurgled a laugh, and the moment his chubby fist squeezed her finger, her gaze found me across the room. I saw the flash. Pain. Just for a second. She screwed her eyes shut, and her throat bobbed hard when she swallowed.
Did Eden want…a…baby?
We’d never discussed it. Family was a no-go topic. She’d teared up the few times she’d mentioned her mother’s passing with a vague story about a car accident. Any mention of her father was instantly shut down. I hadn’t pushed. We had a lifetime to share our stories…or so I’d thought.
Had she wanted a baby—a lifetime— with me? Even though she’d never unpacked?
I stepped away from the wall.
Eden’s eyes rounded.
Please give me another chance.
I’d silently confessed how much I loved her a hundred times. More. Why had I taken her for granted? Why hadn’t I said the words? Even if she never came back, I still wished I’d told her I love her at least once.
I want a lifetime, too. A hundred little blobs with mops of fuzz.
I sidestepped through the crowd.
Eden’s head turned left and right, eyes wild, her forced smile cracking into full-blown panic. I paused. Raised my palm and took a slower step. She dived for the gap. She was on the run.
Shit.
The bell jingled.
Shit!
Eden was gone.
My coffee sat untouched in the cupholder when I pulled up outside my parents’ place. The rooster mug was in the slot next to it. Eden never came back, and I couldn’t just leave it there.
I glanced out the windscreen at my parents’ split level. The modest orange bricks were darker in the shadows of the apartment buildings that had sprung up all around. Developers had offered them ludicrous amounts of money to sell up, but they’d said no. They clung to the suburban life and the idea of a big backyard for grandkids they may never have.
I scrubbed my palm down my face and breathed.
One…two…
Eden was supposed to be with me. My mother was about to fire questions at me I wasn’t ready to answer.
Three…four…
No point delaying the inevitable.
Mum must have heard me walking up the driveway. The front door flew open, and she burst outside.
“Hello! We’re so excited to finally—” Her smile vanished.
I avoided seeing her disappointment by pulling her against me in a hug. “Morning, Ma.” I kissed the top of her head. Her hair smelled just like it did when I was a kid—a bit heavy on the floral. Her once-treasured auburn curls were only wisps of soft silver barely touching her ears now, slowly growing back after finishing chemo.
“Where’s Eden?” Mum lifted her glasses and peered over my shoulder. There was nothing to see but my car parked out front. “Did she forget something?”
I shook my head.
“Oh.” Mum’s face fell. “It’s just you?”
“Afraid so.”
“Zachary, you promised!”
Zachary . Ouch. I was in trouble. “Sorry, Ma.” I followed her inside, flinching at the snap of the front door closing behind me.
“Your dad even wore his nice shirt with the collar. He grumbled the whole bloody time he was buttoning it up!” Mum glanced at me over her shoulder as she marched through the living room. “Did Eden end up having to work today? The poor girl’s flat out! You know I follow her salon on the DL—”
“The … DL?”
“The downlow. Our neighbour’s little granddaughter taught me. Not important. Anyway, Eden does a tonne of celebrity weddings. She’s booked out for months!” Mum excitedly rattled off some names I vaguely recognised. “And Eden has such incredible taste in fashion. Did you see how her outfit for the gala dinner went viral? Best dressed! I wanted to get her opinion on my new sandals.” Mum popped her foot out to model a black sandal with strappy bits up to her ankles.
Too much information was flooding in. When did Eden go to a gala dinner? Oh, and sandals. “I like them, Ma.”
Mum snorted. “You wouldn’t notice a decent sandal if one hit you on the head!” She paused at the kitchen sink, her hand landing on her hip, studying me from head to toe, always seeing too much. Her eyes narrowed on my fidgeting hands. “Will Eden have time to pop over next week?”
“Ma…”
“It doesn’t have to be lunch. If she’s busy, we could all catch up for breakfast. There are so many charming spots near your apartment. I could convince your dad to drive into the city—”
“Ma, Eden’s not…” I shook my head. “She’s not coming.”
“Now? Or…?”
Never.
I couldn’t say the word out loud.
Whatever emotion Mum saw on my face made her gaze drop to the sink. She nodded, swiping at her nose. She knew.
My heart dropped. My screw-up had made my mother cry. “Ma—”
She waved me off. “Everything’s under control for lunch.” She sniffled. “Why don’t you go help your dad with the barbecue?”
It wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order. Mum didn’t want an audience when she stood over the sink crying about how I’d ruined my life. I bent down and pecked a kiss on Mum’s head. She flashed me a watery smile and then shooed me outside.
I pushed open the screen door. Potted herbs cluttered the deck, leaving just enough room for the oversized outdoor table, chairs, and the barbecue where Dad kept himself out of trouble. His hair was threaded with more grey than brown these days, and for once, it was neatly combed back. Along with wearing the collared shirt he kept tugging at, Mum had bribed him into doing his hair, too.
Dad’s thick brows knitted when the screen door snapped shut. He sent a questioning look past me into the kitchen, wondering why he wasn’t being introduced to Eden, but he shook off the confusion. After a quick hug to say hello, he returned to the barbecue.
“Thought you’d be helping with the salad,” he said.
A fair assumption. I usually spent more time in the kitchen with Mum than daring to interfere with Dad’s expert hands on any form of protein. He considered cooking meat an art form. He watched TV shows about it and everything.
“Apparently, you need a helper,” I replied.
“Do I? Sounds like your mother’s interfering again.”
“She means well, Dad.”
Dad chuckled. “Her agenda begins and ends with getting you down the aisle and buying a minivan to cart around all your kids. Don’t think I’m joking. She made me walk around the dealership last week.” He held up his beer. “You want one?”
He didn’t wait to see my nod before bending over, opening the mini fridge, and grabbing a fresh beer. He popped off the lid and passed it to me. “Cheers?”
What was there to celebrate? “Not today, Dad.”
He tapped his bottle against mine anyway. “Every day’s a blessing, even if it’s not turning out how you want.”
We didn’t say much after that. We sipped beers. Shared a bit of small talk. Mum disapproved. I’d caught glimpses of her craning her neck, trying to hear what was happening, getting closer and closer to the door as the minutes ticked on.
The screen door snapped open. Mum sailed onto the deck carrying a bowl of sliced onions. She’d had enough of us wasting time.
“John,” she hissed. “Talk some sense into him, will you?”
“About what?”
Her eyes narrowed. “About Eden.” She dropped the bowl beside the barbecue. “She’s not coming.”
Dad tugged at the collar of his shirt. “You’re telling me I wore this itchy thing for nothing?” He grunted. “Figures.”
“That’s what you’re worried about? Your shirt?”
“You seemed pretty worried about it when you made me put it on.”
“John!”
“Come ’ere, Maz.” Dad wound his arm around her waist and pulled her close enough to plant a kiss on her cheek. “You’re getting yourself all worked up. I’ll sort it. You know I will. Head on back inside.”
Nodding, she sniffled and showed Dad her other cheek. Dutifully, he pecked a kiss there, and Mum disappeared back into the kitchen.
“So, what happened?” Dad didn’t look at me, preferring to keep a close watch on the steaks, tongs ready. “You know, with Eden?”
I sighed. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“You two have a fight?”
A fight was something you had over who took out the rubbish. Our problems were much worse. “There’s this…woman…at work…” Our problems were bigger than Michaela, too, but it was a starting point.
Dad’s lips thinned. The tongs clattered onto the metal grill, and he turned to face me. “I raised you a lot damn better than that, young man.”
Does he think I…? “Dad, I didn’t cheat on Eden!”
His chin lifted to inspect my face, and coal-black eyes drilled into mine. He nodded. A decision. Hopefully, he wasn’t about to disown me.
He threw his head back and called out, “Maree!”
“Yeah?” The screen door opened, and Mum’s head poked out.
Dad nodded at the barbecue. “Keep an eye on the steaks for me, yeah? I’m gonna show Zach the new veggie patch we put in.”
A smug smile stretched across Mum’s face. She knew Dad’s code.
‘Showing me the veggie patch’ meant he wanted to talk to me—one of his awkward man-to-man talks. When I was twelve, ‘showing me the new fence’ led to the most uncomfortable conversation ever about sex. Two years ago, ‘showing me the new lawnmower’ meant Dad breaking down because the doctors had found a lump in Mum’s breast. I’ll never forget that day. It was the first time I’d ever seen my father cry.
Dad was down the back stairs and in the yard in a second. I followed him, but even at thirty-five, my steps were tentative on the lawn he kept greener than a golf course with his shed full of tools and contraptions. He stopped by the raised garden bed lining the back fence and gestured at the buds of green sprouting out of piled sugarcane mulch. Tomatoes already flowered nearby.
“Looks good, Dad,” I said.
“Your mother wanted it.” He bent over to flick out a weed and stood tall again, sweeping his gaze over the yard, as awkward about the conversation as me. “Why didn’t you tell me things weren’t good with your girl?”
“I’m not sure I was ready to admit it to myself. And after everything that’s happened with Mum—”
“Now, hold up. Your mum getting sick doesn’t mean you and I stop talking.”
“It wasn’t as important.”
“If it wasn’t important, your girlfriend would be standing in the kitchen with your mother right now.” He found another weed to pluck out. “And this other woman?”
“Someone I work with. We…” I grimaced. I wasn’t about to tell Dad any of the gory details about Michaela. I wanted to leave those days firmly in the past. “Look, that woman is a non-issue. Eden misunderstood a situation she saw at work and thought I was cheating. I wasn’t.”
“That’s a trust thing. Women who know their men love ’em don’t misunderstand situations like that.”
“She knows how I feel.”
“Does she?” He grunted. “You’re not always good at using your words. You tell her?”
“N-No.”
Dad frowned. “You showed Eden how you feel? You need to be there, mate. And not just in your body. The sex—”
“ Dad. ” I still hadn’t recovered from his last round of sex advice.
He raised his palms. “I’m just saying, the physical is good. You need that. But you need your brain there, too.”
Well, if that was the benchmark, I was a failure. My brain was always dialled into the office, and Eden knew it. “I haven’t even come close to showing her.” My shoulders slumped from the guilt of admitting it out loud.
“Work?”
“Yeah.”
Dad sighed. “You’re always working too much. Always reaching for more. I can’t blame you. I know we never had much when you were growing up—”
“We had plenty.”
“Nothing like that apartment you’ve got on the harbour. Or that nice car you’ve got parked out front.”
“That’s just stuff, Dad.”
“Just stuff, huh?” He smiled. I’d just proven his point. “You’ve got to stop to enjoy what you’ve achieved. Your prick of a boss sells you a dream—a better life, money to splash, accolades, and so-called respect. But there’s no point in earning all that if you’ve got no one to share it with.”
I sighed. “Eden’s already gone, Dad.”
“Yeah.” He patted my shoulder. “Maybe it’s for the best. Gives you some time to focus on getting your promotion sorted. I mean, if it was important enough to let her walk outta your life—”
“I didn’t let her walk out! Yeah, maybe I didn’t have the balls to admit the whole ‘I love you’ deal yet, but Eden knows how I feel.”
“Oh, so that’s why she left?”
“Dad! Seriously? What the hell?”
“I think you’re missing my point, mate. You might not like talking, but your girl’s not a mind reader. What I hear you saying is that you didn’t tell her how you feel, didn’t show her, didn’t prioritise her over that fuckin’ job of yours, or give her enough faith in you so she wasn’t threatened when some other sheila came sniffing. Yet, you’re standing there, surprised she left.” Dad grunted. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Honestly, I’m shocked she stayed as long as she did.”
“Thirty-four days.”
“Eh?”
“Eden lived with me for thirty-four days.” I sighed. “She never unpacked.”
“What’s that about?”
“I don’t know. You’ll be shocked to know we never discussed it.” I laughed, but it was sad. “She’s got so many secrets. I assumed I’d have more time to get her to open up. Now…” I sighed. “Dad, she hates me.”
“How much?”
“You know those flowers I asked Mum about sending?”
“If you ended up going with the three dozen roses, you overdid it.”
“You might be right. Eden set them on fire. She had the ashes hand-delivered back to my office and everything.”
“She’s a keeper.” Dad chuckled. “Let me give you some advice, mate. The opposite of love isn’t hate; it’s indifference. If she was done with you, those roses would’ve ended up in the bin, and you wouldn’t have heard a peep. If she’s upset, she still cares somewhere under all her anger. Keep trying.”
“How Dad? She wants nothing to do with me.”
“You can’t rush her. You need to give Eden enough space to heal, but not enough for her to forget how you feel about her—once you bloody tell her.”
“Easy as that, huh?”
“Nothing about loving someone is easy. But mate, if you find the right person, one smile is worth all the fuckin’ hard stuff.”