Chapter 18 #2
"You two ready?" She looks between us. "I mean you look good.
Both of you. You clean up better than I expected.
Marcus, especially. Hunter's got Aria, she wouldn't let him out of the house without brushing his hair.
" Her eyes drag over me, deliberately, down and back up, and there's nothing subtle about it, but there's nothing flirty in it either, just Anna being Anna.
"Shame you're not on the market. I could sell you as easily as this house. "
I shake my head with a chuckle. "I'm flattered, Anna."
"You should be. I don't say it to just anyone." She's already turning to Hunter. "You. Get your ass back to your own site. Elliot's called me twice to tell me to reel you in."
"Course he has." Hunter grabs my shoulder once more on his way past. "Knock 'em dead, mate."
I hug him back. "Let's show this industry what we've got, bro.”
By half six my site is swarming with architects, display home companies, designers.
I answer what feels like a hundred thousand questions about our timelines, where we sourced our materials, any adjustments we did, costs.
I know I'm doing well, because I could talk about this build in my sleep.
I have eaten, slept, dreamt of almost nothing else for months.
Almost.
Through the big front window I can see across the reserve to Hunter's site — Elliot's stiff shoulders, Jaxon crouched low getting some artistic angle on the letterbox, Aria filming it for her social media channel. Whatever they're doing, it's clear they're all there for Hunter.
My own family didn't get an invitation. I told myself it was because they wouldn't have come even if I'd asked. True, but not the whole truth. The whole truth is I didn't want to find out for certain. Easier to assume the silence than send the text and watch it go unanswered.
Zach and Rhys had told me weeks ago they couldn't make it.
They'd each individually called Anna to see if there was any way to shift the date, and I know they'd tried their best. But if I'm honest with myself, I picked tonight's date on purpose.
Not because I didn't think that they'd have been here, even Leon would've traveled all the way back, if I'd asked them to come.
But I never wanted to ask. I wanted it to come freely.
I bring my focus back to the room. One of the architects is halfway through a question I've already answered a dozen times tonight.
"...and the ceiling height in the main living area, is that standard for the range, or is that a display-specific upgrade?"
I open my mouth to answer, and that's when I see her.
Across the room, half hidden behind a designer from Adelaide's largest architectural firm, standing very still with her phone raised, taking a photo of me at work.
Alexia.
I lose track of my own answer completely, finishing the question with half my brain while the other half runs through every reason she could possibly be here, in a display village she has no earthly reason to know exists.
The second the architect thanks me and moves on, I'm across the room.
She's wearing a dress I haven't seen before, mid-calf length, soft, flowy, dark green, buttons down the length of the front, her hair down and natural, and she looks so good it actually knocks something loose in my chest.
"Hey," I say, my cheeks almost aching from my smile.
"Hi." She smiles, and there's something nervous catching at the corners of her lips, like she's not entirely sure of her welcome. "I hope it's okay that I came. I saw it in the group chat and I got curious, and then curiosity turned into looking up the address, and then..."
Before she says another word, I grab her arms and pull her into a tight hug, burying my face in her hair.
She feels like warmth and home and safety and...
"Oh," she exhales, almost inaudibly.
"Thank you for coming," I whisper into her neck. "Thank you so much."
She just nods, and for a second, her arms come up to tighten around my back. And then she lets go.
I hold on a moment longer. Then I drop my arms and step back, gazing at her, still not sure that she's actually here.
"How'd you even find it? I don't think I said anything about where it was in the group, did I?"
She shakes her head. "I'm a researcher, Marcus," she says with a shrug. "I haven't gone to school for a million years and racked up all this student debt just to not be able to find something on Google."
I laugh. "Well, then I am ever indebted to your student debt." I beam at her, and she shifts, a little unnerved by my reaction. Pull it back, Marcus, you're scaring her. I rub my hands together to give them something to do. "So, want a tour? I can give you all the sordid details."
Her little chuckle drains any nervousness I had left in my body about the showing. "Obviously. Lead the way."
I take her through the property. I show her how the plans come down from the design office, how we plan everything down to the tiniest detail before a move is made on the land, how time, resources, and the freaking weather affect every decision. And finally, why we're here tonight.
"So tonight's basically a report card?" she says.
"Tonight's basically everything."
We walk through the entirety of the house, close. When her hand trails along the kitchen benchtop I laid myself, a warmth spreads through my ribcage. When exhales a soft "wow" when she sees the balcony view through the upstairs bedroom window, I imagine building such a view just for her.
"Where did you learn how to do all this?" she says, standing dead centre in the open living room of the upstairs.
My eyes catch hers. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," she waves her hands around, "how and when and where did you learn how to do this?"
I let out a soft laugh. "Mostly on the job.
Sure, I took a few workshops along the way, but on site, we all teach and learn from each other.
" I lay a gentle hand on her back and lead her out onto the side balcony.
Jack's downstairs, waving his arms enthusiastically at the eastern wall.
"See him? Looks like a right idiot, but you'll never see anyone lay a brick wall faster or better.
If anyone else tried what he does, your house would come tumbling down in months.
He's got the magic touch, can't teach that, but he can give the other guys tips to be better. "
Her questions keep coming, and none of them are the questions I usually get.
Not about cost cutting, not about building codes.
She wants to know how I pick the suppliers I do, why we chose engineered oak over solid, what happens to the crew when a job like this wraps, whether Macca's been with me since the beginning, what's my favourite part of building, what the industry looks like now.
Curious, interested questions — the kind that mean she's listening to my answers, building a picture of the life I've spent a decade putting together, nail by nail.
I answer every single one, hoping they'll never stop coming.
After the full tour, we end up back on the first-floor balcony as the last of the light fades into night. The whole display village and its lights spread out below us, we imagine the cars in driveways of families that haven't moved in, a street full of houses nobody's slept in, dreamt in.
I turn, resting my arm on the railing, looking at her in the moonlight.
"I have something for you," she says, and pulls a small box out of her bag, wrapped in brown paper with a bit of string.
I blink. "What?"
She dips her face, embarrassed. "It's nothing big. It's...silly, actually." She pulls the package back.
"No," I reach out and grab it a little too eagerly than I mean to. And hug it to my chest. "I mean, you brought me something?"
"Just something small. To commemorate the day."
My eyes flick to Hunter's site, where he's standing outside with his family, and the woman of his dreams. I can't help remembering the look on his face when Aria had given him the letter.
And now that I think I know exactly how he'd felt.
I can finally admit how much I had envied him in that moment.
"Lexi-Lou, you didn't need to..."
"Just open it," she says, smiling.