Chapter 31 Mabel
MABEL
My head is in a fog as I make my way around the botanical gardens.
The tickets were nonrefundable, and since Aurora went back with dipshit to his hotel room, I made the stupid fucking decision to come alone. Now I’m having regrets. If I thought coming to a place full of plants would be a great way to take my mind off things, I was wrong.
I can’t stop seeing her face when she found out he was in Sydney.
Abject terror. There’s no other way to describe it.
She was terrified and panicking, but the way she changed when he walked through the door was like something out of a psychological thriller.
The plastic smile. The calm, careful tone of voice.
It was like watching her navigate a mine field, and her husband was the biggest bomb.
The minute he was in the room, he was her sole focus.
She was constantly testing the temperature of his mood and trying her best to keep him from boiling over.
She wasn’t concerned for her own safety or happiness, only for him and minimizing any damage he might do.
It was maddening and heartbreaking, and I couldn’t do anything but watch.
I had suspicions that she’d been living in a domestic battle zone, but seeing proof put everything into perspective. Aurora has been living life in survival mode, and her husband is an absolute tyrant.
The only reason I didn’t lose my shit last night when I learned she left with him was that both Ham and Red went with her. I haven’t seen any of them since. Last night was the first concert in over a decade where Ham and Red weren’t in attendance, and it just added to the sense of foreboding.
And then there’s what she said right before she left. I can’t stop hearing it.
I’m not even gay.
It probably shouldn’t bother me the way it does. She was rambling and making excuses out of self-preservation. She was trying to convince herself that she’d be okay with me choosing Kat, and most of what came out of her mouth was a lie.
She’s been kept in a box for so long. I know she needs to grow. I know she needs to find out who she is without Brady. I know that some aspects of self-discovery never end. I know all of this. But fuck, it still felt like a sharp slap across the face.
I left a three-year relationship because the woman I was with wouldn’t come out publicly, and I was tired of being kept in the shadows.
That relationship sucked the joy out of me, and I didn’t even realize how bad it had gotten until I met Aurora.
But hearing those words come from her mouth sent me spiraling back into that pain.
I rub my chest as if it’s possible to massage away the ache, but I can’t. I don’t know how I let this happen. I don’t know how or why I didn’t see it, the risks, but I can’t go through that again. I can’t.
I slow when I come to a fork in the trail, so I pull my map out of my back pocket and look it over. There’s an orchid house to the left, and though I know it’s a terrible idea, that’s the direction I head.
It’s like stepping into another world when I push through the doors.
The room is heavy with the scent of blooming flowers, and it’s humid and warm, like a tropical forest after a rainstorm.
The only sound I hear as I walk farther into the place is the distant trickling of water and the tap tap of my boots on the stone floor.
All around me, orchids of every shape, size, and color seem to float on the thick air.
Perched in baskets, climbing up moss-covered branches, nestled among ferns.
Everywhere I look are jewel-toned purples, electric pinks, and soft whites freckled with magenta or gold.
When I stand in the middle of the room and turn in a slow circle, it’s like a being in a giant kaleidoscope.
It's enchanting and peaceful, and Aurora would love it.
I wish she was here, and then I hurt all over again, because she’s with her husband. I don’t know what they’re talking about. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Is she actually going to divorce him, or will I return to the house to discover that she’s caved and gone back to him?
Maybe I’m just an experiment.
Maybe she was just exploring her sexuality, and I just happened to be the lucky plaything within reach.
It’s not uncommon. People get a little bit of freedom—go to college, go on vacation, go on a rock and roll tour without their husbands—and their inhibitions loosen.
It’s like sampling at an all you can eat buffet.
If it looks good, you try it. It happens all the time.
Hell, it’s happened to me many times over the years.
Maybe that’s all I am to Aurora. A temporary excursion.
I frown.
No. That’s not Aurora. That’s not the kind of person she is.
But she did say she wasn’t gay, and it’s obvious that she doesn’t know what she wants. How could she? She’s been sheltered, and she’s confused. She’s spent four years being beat down by her fuckhead of a husband, and I was the first person to build her up.
What if she doesn’t actually like me, she just likes the idea of me? She just likes the way I make her feel?
My shoulders droop with the thought, and I turn to leave, but my attention is caught by an older woman half hidden in a thick patch of ferns, and she’s watching me. I smile awkwardly and give her a wave.
“How can someone be sad in the Orchid House? That’s what I’d like to know.” She waves her hand in the air, then points at me. “It’s paradise in here. You can’t be sad in paradise.”
“Do you work here?”
“I tend to the orchids, and the orchids tend to my soul.”
I huff a laugh and turn to leave, but then I think better of it, and walk toward her instead.
“Actually, could I ask you a question about that?”
“About orchids or souls?”
“Orchids.”
“Ask.”
“I have a friend who has a moth orchid that isn’t doing very well. She can get it to bud, but not bloom. Do you have any advice?”
The lady’s brow furrows in thought. “It’s hard to tell without looking at it. How’s the root system?”
I shrug. “Good, probably. My friend knows a lot about plants. She’s doing everything she can to help this one thrive, but it refuses.”
The lady hums and gives me a sage nod.
“Sometimes, they die because we love them too much. Sometimes, they bloom because we finally let them breathe.” She gives me a wink and lowers her voice to a whisper. “And that goes for orchids and souls. You’re welcome.”
She leaves me standing amongst the ferns without another word, and I think about her advice for the rest of the day, and well into the next.