Chapter 33
CHAPTER
If one word summed up Ferne, it would be stoic.
From a young age, she’d accepted her fate.
Whatever came her way, she’d deal with it.
And while she’d loved Taj first time around, once her broken heart mended, she’d accepted that they never would’ve worked long term.
He’d been content to drift through life doing odd jobs and not owning a house, while she’d had ambition and then some.
Later, her stoicism had helped her tolerate her marriage. She didn’t hate Mac or lament their loveless marriage, she’d just got on with life, doing what had to be done daily.
Now, as she stood on Taj’s doorstep, she couldn’t recognise this anxious, excited mess she’d become.
From the moment she’d opened the door yesterday to find him delivering her groceries, through watching him cook her dinner and during their lovemaking, the midnight picnic and cuddles this morning, it had felt like she’d been having an out-of-body experience.
This kind of stuff didn’t happen to her.
How could it be possible that, in a few short days, she’d arrived in the city, moved into her dead husband’s love nest, booked and cancelled a trip she’d been dreaming about forever, made a new friend, encountered her husband’s lover and reunited with the love of her life?
And now this, another shock as she craned her neck to take in the vast frontage of Taj’s house.
When Taj invited her over for lunch, she’d expected his place to be a modest rental edging towards disrepair as many rentals in this part of the city were.
Instead, it appeared Taj had won the lottery or was housesitting for a rich friend, because this modern townhouse in the Docklands boasted three levels, a pristine, rendered exterior and a funky chrome front door.
She pushed the doorbell, another modern marvel that looked like it belonged on a gaming console, wishing the butterflies dancing in her stomach would quit.
She had nothing to be nervous about, considering Taj had already seen her naked and wanted to spend more time with her, but this was moving so fast she couldn’t help but feel off-kilter.
When Taj opened the door, his smile warm and welcoming, her breath hitched.
He’d showered at her place this morning but had come home and changed into black slacks and a white, opennecked shirt that set off his olive skin.
He’d always been attractive, but he’d improved with age, the lines creasing his face adding character rather than detracting from his handsomeness.
‘You’re staring,’ he said. ‘Do I have flour on my nose?’
‘I’m staring because you’re still the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met.’ She blushed, an irrational reaction considering her age, but melted into him when he hauled her into his arms. He squeezed her tight and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before releasing her.
‘Is it crazy to miss you when I only left your apartment a few hours ago?’
‘Yes, it’s crazy,’ she said, propping her weight completely on one crutch so she could press her other palm to his cheek. ‘It’s crazy, because I know the feeling.’
He swooped in for a kiss that made her tingle all over before stepping aside. ‘Come in. I’m so glad you’re here.’
‘Me too,’ she said, trying not to gawk as she entered. If the outside appeared modern, it had nothing on the interior, with its extensive use of polished concrete floors and walls, chrome and embedded lights. ‘Wow. This place is stunning.’
‘Thanks, I like it. Who knew I’d change my taste from grunge to contemporary over the decades?’
She wanted to ask how he could afford it, but it wasn’t the type of inquisitive question you asked someone you’d only just reunited with, so she followed him into a huge, open living area comprising a kitchen, a dining table for eight and a gas-log fireplace surrounded by modular furniture.
‘I love it.’
He smiled and gestured at the table. ‘Would you like to take a seat and get comfortable? I’ve left a stool near the end seat so you can prop your foot up. The other guests should be here soon.’
‘Sure.’
Pleased by his thoughtfulness, Ferne sat and put her foot on the stool, wishing her hip would stop twinging. She’d attributed the increased pain to taking most of her weight on the other side, but maybe last night’s activities had something to do with it.
‘What are you smiling about?’ he asked, uncorking a bottle of wine.
‘Last night.’
‘I didn’t know soup made you smile like that.’ He wiggled his eyebrows, and she laughed. ‘Wait until you taste my lemongrass beef rice paper rolls and tiramisu.’
‘You’ve certainly expanded your repertoire.’
‘I didn’t hear you complaining when I only served you scrambled eggs, nachos and the occasional beef stir fry back then.’
They shared another conspiratorial smile, and once again, she couldn’t help but think how much different her life might’ve been if she’d stuck with Taj rather than choosing to walk away.
The doorbell rang and he said, ‘Back in a sec,’ leaving her to look around the kitchen with its gorgeous green splashback, eight-burner stove, inbuilt ovens—steam and normal—and sleek black cupboards.
Cruz would love it. She’d wanted to give her son space, allow him to settle in for a week before she contacted him, but she should reach out, maybe later today, and see how he’d been faring since her departure.
In fact, she’d been so discombobulated the last few days, she hadn’t checked the farm’s social media sites beyond a brief glance to see what that clever girl had done, and she vowed to call Cruz when she got home.
If she made it home. With her uncharacteristic excitement over Taj re-entering her life, she wouldn’t be averse to staying over after his guests left.
‘I believe you two have met before,’ he said, as he stepped aside to reveal Bette standing behind him.
‘Surprise!’ Bette flung her arms in the air and Ferne chuckled.
‘I’d ask what you are doing here, but that would be a redundant question,’ Ferne said, smiling as Bette handed Taj a bottle of shiraz and bustled over to bend down and give her a hug. ‘So that’s why you recommended the delivery service. You’re promoting your friend.’
‘Isn’t Taj the best?’ Bette blew Taj a kiss and the momentary stab of jealousy surprised Ferne.
‘Stop flirting with me.’ Taj waggled his finger at her. ‘You’ve been doing it for the last two years and you know I’m immune.’
‘That’s why I do it, so I can practise my flirting skills on a man with zero interest in me.
’ Bette sat beside Ferne, oblivious to her relief, because the moment she saw Bette blow Taj a kiss, she’d wondered if they’d dated.
‘When Taj called me earlier and said we’d be having another lunch guest and who it was, I couldn’t believe it.
’ Bette’s sly glance slid between them. ‘I’m trying to figure out who’s the fast mover here.
The delivery guy or the vulnerable wounded woman. ’
‘We’re old friends,’ Ferne said, earning a guffaw from Bette.
‘Is that what you’re calling it these days?’
‘Leave Ferne alone, Bette.’ Taj brought the uncorked wine to the table. ‘We dated decades ago, so we’re both still in shock over the coincidence of me turning up on her doorstep to deliver her groceries yesterday.’
‘How romantic.’ Bette pressed her hands to her chest and swooned a little. ‘Better than any of those crap movies I stream.’
‘This is better than a movie because it’s real life.’ Taj locked eyes with Ferne, and the tenderness in his eyes made her chest tighten with emotion. ‘How lucky are we?’
‘Very,’ Ferne murmured, as the doorbell rang again.
‘Go answer that while I interrogate my new friend.’ Bette made a shooing motion with her hands and when Taj left the room, she turned to Ferne. ‘How freaky is this?’
‘I know. My head is spinning, to be honest.’
‘Taj and I became friends through a mutual acquaintance a few years ago, and we catch up occasionally. So imagine my surprise when he told me about your connection and that you were coming to lunch.’ Bette’s expression turned pensive.
‘There’s not enough good stuff in this awful world we live in, so you two reuniting has restored my faith in humanity somewhat. ’
Before Ferne could respond, Taj strolled back into the dining area, brandishing white plastic bags.
‘While I didn’t lie about my legendary rice paper rolls, I didn’t have time to make them because I was busy this morning.
’ He shot Ferne a loaded look that heated her cheeks again.
‘So I’ve ordered takeaway, enough to feed a small army.
’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘You can bring the rest in here, thanks.’
‘No worries, Taj,’ said a man with a striking low voice, and as he stepped into view, Ferne’s heart stopped.
Taj had ordered takeaway from Jesse.
‘Are you okay, honey?’ Bette squeezed Ferne’s arm, but she couldn’t feel it, and her friend’s voice sounded like it came from a million miles away as she stared at the man who’d stolen everything from her.
Ferne managed to mumble, ‘I’m feeling a tad queasy.’
Jesse seemed to gather his wits first, as he pretended like he hadn’t seen her.
‘Here you go, Taj.’ He placed bags on the benchtop and mumbled something to Taj before scurrying away without a backward glance.
Coward.
Though what did she expect, for him to stay so she could confront him in front of an audience?
Taj hadn’t noticed the weird stand-off between Ferne and Jesse, and as he busied himself taking containers out of the bags, she struggled to her feet and reached for her crutches.
‘I need to go home,’ she murmured, hoping she could pull off the acting role of the century and leave before she burst into tears.
‘I’ll take you,’ Bette said, but Ferne shook her head.
‘I’ll get an Uber.’
‘I’m taking you,’ Bette said, firmer this time. ‘I know we haven’t known each other long, but what sort of a friend would I be if I let you get home on your own while you’re sick?’