Chapter 9
Nine
Emma
I’m a little nervous today.
It took everything in me to be brave enough to call someone for help.
Noah would help me—I know he would, but I need to be able to do things for myself. Freedom doesn’t automatically come with confidence, but I’m working on it.
The next challenge is facing up to someone new and deal with all those things my husband used to take care of.
A sharp rap at the door breaks me out of my thoughts, and nerves pinch in my stomach.
I can do this.
“Coming,” I call out.
I swing the door open, then catch my breath as the tall, brunette man standing on my doorstep turns.
I’d know those eyes anywhere.
“Caleb?” I’m breathy, but I’m not sure why.
Who am I kidding?
It’s been twenty-seven years, and he’s still as handsome as ever with the chiselled jaw and the faint scar near his right eyebrow that he got from colliding with someone while playing rugby.
“Hi, Emma.”
“I … I’m expecting someone.”
What the hell is wrong with me?
He grins. “I’m here about the work you need doing. You called me.”
My eyebrows rise. “I didn’t know.”
“I guessed as much. Now …” He leans forward a little. “Are you going to invite me in?”
“I … I …” My heart races. I knew there was a chance I’d see Caleb coming back here—I wanted to see him. But this has caught me by surprise because I wanted to plan it.
I’m not prepared.
If he’s going to do the work around my house, he’ll be here for a while.
“Do … Do you want a coffee? We can talk about what needs doing.”
He grins, and in that moment, all I can see is our son. My head spins and I grip the bench.
“Are you okay?” He steps inside the open door and grasps my forearm. Blood rushes in my ears. This is insane. I’ve held onto this image of him for so long, spending years hoping we’d be reunited. But it’s too soon. I’m not ready.
But I also have to get this work around the house done and I’ve come too far to kick him out.
“I’m fine. Thank you.” I meet his concerned gaze. “It’s just been a long couple of weeks with moving and unpacking, and trying to get things sorted.”
He nods slowly. Is he married? Does he have a family? In that moment, I feel stupid for thinking about him all these years. Caleb has been my anchor to the real world and has no idea.
“I’m sure.”
“Take a seat at the table and I’ll put the jug on. How do you take your coffee?”
“Strong and black. One sugar.”
There’s a lump in my throat the size of a golf ball as I walk over to the jug and flick the switch on. I use the bench to keep myself steady as Caleb makes his way past me toward the kitchen table.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath.
He used to smell of laundry powder—whichever one his mother used. Now he smells different, clean and fresh but it’s not the same. I kept that scent in my memory for years—saved it for when I needed reassurance.
He’s here. In my kitchen.
Noah won’t be home for a few more hours. He’ll be at work when the work’s being done here, so for the moment, I can keep the overwhelming thoughts at bay.
By the time I’ve made the coffee and returned to the kitchen table where Caleb’s made himself at home, I can’t stop my hand from trembling.
If he notices as I place his mug in front of him, he doesn’t say anything, but the heat of his gaze on me makes my cheeks flush.
We sit in silence for a moment, sipping our coffee that’s too hot still, but neither one of us will admit it. It keeps me grounded.
Caleb’s the one who breaks the silence.
“I was surprised to see you’d called. Usually, the job would go to one of my guys, but I had to see you.”
I grip my mug. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Really? After the way things ended, I wasn’t sure.”
I swallow hard. There are things I need to tell him—things that happened after I left.
“It was so long ago.”
His gaze is fixed on mine. “I know, but I never forgot.”
“It wasn’t my choice to go.”
He nods. “I know that too. But I thought you’d be back in touch. After everything.”
Closing my eyes, I draw in a deep breath. After all this time, I have to give voice to some of the things I’ve held inside for so long.
“There was no way for me to do that. Not for the first ten years anyway.” I open my eyes to see his furrowed brow.
“What? How?”
“Dad moved us to a remote church community. All communication was cut off, and all our family assets went to the church. I was trapped there.”
Caleb stares at me. “Did you know before you left?”
I shake my head. “No. I knew he was engaged with some church—you know he’d always been religious. What I didn’t know was that he was that far gone. Mum struggled too. She didn’t know how bad it would be for us.”
“But clearly she didn’t leave?”
“She’s still there with him. She checked out years ago, but there’s no way she’ll ever leave.”
“I’m so sorry. If I’d known …”
I force a smile. “We were kids, Caleb. Neither of us had any power to do anything.”
His eyes search mine. “I loved you. And I spent years convincing myself that it was all your fault for leaving. But seeing you again? I loved you.”
A sob catches in my throat. For years I fantasised about him sweeping in and rescuing me. But at the same time, I knew we were so young and that it’d never happen. Any hopes I had were dashed once I found out I was expecting Bailey.
I love my girl with all my heart, but my pregnancy with her sealed my fate with Malcolm.
“I loved you too,” I whisper.
There’s so much I’m not sure I can ever tell Caleb—so many feelings still churning inside that left me doubting myself. As time went on, I questioned more and more if what we had was real or if it was just some teenage dream.
Now he’s right in front of me, there’s no doubt in my mind.
I loved this man with all my heart.
And I never got over him.
“So that was the first ten years. What happened after that?”
My throat tightens. I’m not ready to tell this story, but I’m not sure that I have a choice.
“I was sixteen. My parents … My parents threw themselves into the church and that meant marrying me to a man who was much older.”
My throat tightens. I’m free of the marriage that chained me to Malcolm—have been for months, but telling this story doesn’t get any easier.
“What?” Caleb’s gaze is fixed on me—I can feel it. But I can’t look up and meet it because otherwise I’ll cry.
And I have cried more than enough tears over the years.
“I wasn’t left with any choice. And then I was trapped.” I close my eyes. “We lived in the middle of nowhere, and he would threaten to take my children from me.”
“Emma. Look at me.” Caleb’s gentle tone washes over me, and I finally raise my gaze to meet his. “I wish I’d known.”
“We were kids.”
“But I’m sure my parents would have helped. We could have got you out of there.”
I shake my head. “There’s no point in thinking about what we could have done. I thought maybe once we left the church, things might change, but they didn’t. So, I started hiding bits of money where I could, skimming off the top of the grocery money he gave me.”
Caleb’s jaw tics.
“It took years, but I got a small nest egg together. And then he had a massive heart attack. It didn’t fix things, but it humbled him—especially when he was diagnosed with end-stage heart failure.”
He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.
“It didn’t take long after that. Once he was in palliative care, I knew it was just a matter of time.”
“I’m so sorry, Emma.”
“Thank you.” I’m so glad I’ve finally told someone the whole story. Even if it still skims over the details. “Probate took a while, but we got there. So, I sold the house and I knew I had to get away. This is where I had all my best memories.”
He smiles. “I hope that includes me.”
“Of course it does.”
Raising his hand to his chest, he taps his heart. “This hurts way more than I ever thought it would. It’s been so long.”
I take a long sip of my coffee to try and steady myself. “I thought of you a lot. Remembering the good times helped me through the bad.”
He slides his hand over mine. “Will you tell me about the bad?”
I shake my head. “I’m not ready for that.”
Caleb gives my hand a squeeze before pulling his away. “I’ll take care of what you need doing around the house—give you the friends and family discount.”
Laughing, I roll my eyes. “I’m not asking for a discount.”
“I’m picking you could do with life giving you a break. I won’t charge you for labour. If anything, I’ll spend more time working on your place to spend time with you.”
“That’s fair.” My cheeks flair with embarrassment. Is this flirting? “I won’t complain.”
“You’d better not.” He chuckles.
“Thank you, Caleb.” I meet his gaze again. There’s so much to unpack. We were together for such a short time, and it was so long ago, but attraction flares between us—at least for me. I always wished that we could’ve stayed together.
“You’re not alone. You got that?”
I nod. “I do.”
“So, what about your kids now? They with you?”
My throat tightens. “Yes. All four of them.”
“Four? Chloe has four too. Massive age gap, but she’s happy.”
Despite the tension, I smile. Caleb’s sister’s five years younger than him, and she was a sweet girl.
“Mine are spaced out, but they’re very close.”
“How old?”
Oh.
“Noah’s in his mid-twenties, Bailey’s sixteen, Kiera’s fourteen, and Jason is seven. What about Chloe?”
He doesn’t seem to be suspicious as he smiles. That’s good. I fully plan on telling him, but I don’t know how he’d go with me dropping a bomb. Besides, I’m not sure I could cope just yet with the backlash.
“She has nineteen-year-old twins, a one-year-old, and a two-year-old.”
My eyes widen. “That big a gap.”
“Second marriage.” As if that explains everything, but I don’t probe because otherwise he might ask more questions.
Time. I need time to adjust to our new life. I’ve had twenty-seven years to prepare for this moment, but I’m just not there.
“Emma? I lost you.”
His smile’s so kind, but all I think about is how angry he’ll be when he finds out.
“Sorry. It’s just … with the move and everything, there’s just so much to think about.”
“Well, if there’s anything I can ever help with …”
I force a smile and nod. “I appreciate the offer.”
“In the meantime, if you show me everything that needs doing, I can put together a quote. Freya gave me an idea, but I’m sure you have a complete list.”
It’s not really a change of subject, but the change in tone is enough to muddle my thoughts.
“I … uhh. Sure.”
Sliding my chair out, I cover the short distance to the bench.
I turn and walk straight into a solid chest.
Shit.
He chuckles. “Sorry. I thought we’d have a look together.”
I swallow hard, pulling the list up between us.
Caleb takes it from me and runs his gaze down it.
“That definitely looks doable. How quickly do you want it all done?”
I shrug. “The deck straight away. Everything else is cosmetic.”
“Okay.” He smiles. “Lead the way.”
He takes a step back, and I duck through the space to get to the back door.
Once he’s seen the deck, we do a walk through of the house as I point out each issue.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll do the work myself.”
My heart thuds. “Of course I don’t mind.”
“My guys are good, but I’d rather take care of you and your family.”
There’s a golf ball size lump in my throat.
“I hope you don’t mind me hanging around for the next few weeks.”
I can’t help my eyebrows rising. “Weeks?”
“Well, I’ve got other work on too. But this deck’s going to take up this week, and then I can get onto the other things. If that’s okay with you?”
His gaze burns a hole in my brain.
“I … that’s fine. I’m not in any rush.”
The truth is I’d like him around. There’s only one concern I have.
“Could you do it during school hours? The kids get home just after three …”
“And you don’t want to explain me to them?”
I pat my chest in an effort to slow down my racing heart. “Something like that.”
“Sure.” He grins. “It’ll take a little longer, but if you don’t mind me hanging around.”
My cheeks are burning—I pat them to try and cool them down. “I don’t mind the work taking a little longer.”
“That’s good. I don’t mind hanging around longer.”
Is he … Is he flirting with me?
“I’ll go back to the office and firm up this quote. Do you want me to email it to you?”
“Uh … yes. Thanks. If I’m happy with it, when can you start?”
Caleb’s easy smile makes my stomach clench. He was always the more confident out of us, but this Caleb is on a whole other level.
He’s so sure of himself in a way that I know I’m definitely not.
“Whenever you want me to,” he says so gently that heat flushes through my body.
He’s giving me back control of when I see him next.
How the hell am I going to survive this?