by Nicola Marsh
‘When my own daughter thinks I’ve changed because I’m showing some motherly concern for once in my self-absorbed life, I know how shitty a parent I’ve been.’ Barbara sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, before dabbing at it to make sure she hadn’t shifted her immaculately applied foundation. ‘I met someone. He lives in Port Douglas. He’s extremely close to his kids, which is why he won’t move to Sydney.’
She glanced away but Polly saw the sheen of tears. ‘He made me realise how I’ve let you and myself down by not being more attentive.’
Polly’s heart twanged, spreading pain throughout her chest. ‘I’m a big girl, Mum. I can take of myself, and have been for a long time.’
‘That’s not what I mean and you know it.’ Barbara shook her head. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.’
Polly wanted to say You’ve got nothing to apologise for. But with her mother opening up this wasn’t the time for lies.
‘Did you know you fostered my love of fashion because the only time I felt close to you was when we looked at those magazines together?’
Barbara had the grace to blush. ‘I treasured those times because it’s the one thing we had in common.’ She covered Polly’s hand with hers where it lay in her lap. ‘You were smarter than me from the time you started school, and I was incredibly proud of you but had no idea how to relate to you. I hate to admit it but you made me feel inadequate.’
Stunned by her mother’s revelation, Polly could only shake her head. ‘But why? I never said anything to make you feel that way—’
‘You didn’t have to.’ She squeezed her hand and released it. ‘You’d have your head stuck in your text books or scouring online for the answer to some difficult question, and when I offered to help you’d give me this look...like I was a dummy...’
Sadness passed over Barbara’s face. ‘So I gave up asking and the gap between us grew.’
‘I had no idea.’ On impulse, Polly leaned across and hugged her mother. ‘That’s why you favoured Archie, because he’s a dumbass?’
They laughed in unison and Polly felt a weight that she’d been shouldering for a long time shift.
She’d always felt not good enough; it turned out her mum had felt the same. They were a crazy pair.
‘How about you come by Sizzle next week and I’ll give you the grand tour?’
Her mother hadn’t asked for forgiveness but Barbara knew what the offer meant: a fresh start for them.
Barbara’s eyes lit up. ‘I’d love that.’
‘Hey, what are you two gossiping about?’ Archie leaned in, trying to squeeze in between them.
‘None of your business,’ Barbara said, playfully shoving him away. ‘We’re having some mother-daughter time.’
Archie glanced at Polly and winked, as if he knew exactly what she’d been going through all these years.
‘Did she tell you she’s shagging my best mate?’
Polly felt heat flush her cheeks as Archie stuck out his tongue at her.
‘Once again, none of your business,’ Barbara said, her frown lost on an oblivious Archie who’d definitely imbibed one too many beers.
‘What Mum said, bozo.’ Polly shoved him away, but caught her mother’s knowing stare.
Yeah, he’d definitely told her about Ryder and she wanted to know more.
Which was Polly’s cue to leave.
‘I’m really sorry to do this, but my boss wants me to stop by the office today.’
Barbara’s eyebrows rose. ‘On a Sunday?’
‘It won’t take long. Maybe we can catch up later?’
The second the invitation popped out of her mouth she wanted to take it back. She’d be seeing Ryder later, to break up with him, and the last thing she wanted was to see her mother after that.
Sensing her recalcitrance, Barbara patted her hand. ‘There’s no rush, honey. You do what you have to do, I’ll still be around tomorrow.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’ Polly stood and Archie did the same, enveloping her in a hug.
‘You’re the best, Pol. Thanks for coming.’
‘Where else would I be with you turning into an old man?’
He gave her a noogie on the head, like he’d used to when she’d been a kid, and they grinned at each other. She knew Archie might be pissed when Ryder left and she struggled to put on a brave face, so she’d have to try extra hard not to appear too unhappy. It was a big ask but she’d known going into this that Archie would always be on her side despite his friendship with Ryder. He was the only man she could depend on and she treasured him for it, even if he drove her nuts most of the time.
‘See you later,’ she said, slipping out of his arms and turning to pick up her bag, only to find Ryder staring at her with an intensity that took her breath away from the other end of the table.
He quirked an eyebrow, as if asking why she was leaving, and rather than slipping out as she’d hoped, she knew she’d have to give him something. Besides, as the host of this fancy shindig it was only polite to thank him.
Giving a general wave at the table occupants—friends of Archie’s with a few additional beautiful women who she assumed Ryder had invited for her brother’s benefit—she made her way towards Ryder.
He met her halfway and gestured to a nook near the entry foyer. ‘You’re leaving early?’
‘Duty calls, again,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Not sure if this promotion is worth it considering Andrina has become more demanding than ever.’
‘She’s making you work on a Sunday?’
‘It won’t take long,’ she said, mustering her meagre supply of courage to blurt, ‘You still keen to catch up later?’
He nodded, glancing at Archie. ‘Though knowing your dickhead of a brother he’ll want to keep partying for a while yet.’
She wanted to invite him over but she knew what would happen. They’d end up devouring each other and her resolve would waver and she’d be stuck in limbo land, knowing she had to break it off but not having the guts to do it.
‘Listen, why don’t we catch up tomorrow? That way Archie can have you all to himself and you can keep an eye on him for me.’
A frown marred his brow. ‘We need to talk, Pol, and I feel like you’re avoiding me.’
‘It’s not that...’ She faked a smile. ‘Our timing sucks at the moment, but we will talk.’
‘Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like what you have to say?’
He knew, damn it, he knew.
‘We’ll talk tomorrow.’
She kissed him, a quick peck on the lips, before ducking past him to push through the glass door.
She shouldn’t look back; it would send the wrong message.
What message is that? That you love him?
Ignoring her stupid voice of reason, she glanced over her shoulder to find Ryder staring at her with so much regret her breath caught.
Could he have feelings for her too?
If so, she had to end this sooner rather than later.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
RYDER HAD NEVER been averse to taking chances. Big ones, too, so when he dropped a seriously drunk Archie home, making sure he made it to bed with a bucket beside it, water and paracetamol on the bedside table and the window cranked open a fraction for some fresh air, he headed for the one place he needed to be.
Polly’s.
She wouldn’t welcome the unexpected drop-in; he knew it, but he didn’t care. He was done with her evasions.
This confrontation was long overdue and prolonging their break-up wouldn’t help either of them.
Striding up the path to her front door, he remembered the first time he’d done it a few weeks ago when they’d been so hot for each other they’d barely made it inside before going at it up against the wall.
He’d been naïve to think that was all they would have—a few weeks of
frantic fucking while he was in Sydney, before saying a cheery goodbye.
Yeah, only a stupid prick would think he could get intimate with one of his oldest friends and walk away at the end without hurting her.
Bracing himself for whatever was to come, he knocked at the door.
The door opened a fraction and she peered into the gap between the chain and the jamb.
‘Hey Pol, can I come in?’
She glared at him, a deep groove between her brows. ‘I was in bed.’
‘Perfect, I’ll join you.’
She didn’t buy his rakish smile. If anything, her frown deepened. What more proof did he need that this would be harder than he’d anticipated?
‘You can’t fob me off for ever,’ he said, shrugging.
With a loud sigh, she slipped the chain off and opened the door. He stepped inside and reached for her but she slipped away, leaving him seriously doubting the wisdom of turning up here tonight.
Then again, it wouldn’t matter what time of day they talked; he had a feeling the result would be the same and he wouldn’t like it.
She folded her arms and glared at him, the groove between her brows deepening. ‘Want a coffee?’
‘No, I’m good.’
But he wasn’t, not by a long shot, and the sooner they had this conversation the better.
‘You’re avoiding me,’ he said, and she turned away so she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
She wore black yoga pants and a singlet top, so she’d probably lied about being in bed too.
How the hell had they come to this?
‘Pol, we need to discuss what’s happening with us—’
‘Stop.’
She whirled back to face him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparking anger. ‘There’s nothing to say, considering we both knew this would end as soon as you left town. So please don’t imply there’s anything to talk about when what we had was nothing more than a fling.’
Shocked to his core at her outburst, he would’ve almost believed her brave little speech if not for the devastation in her eyes.
Polly had always been too easy to read. It was why he’d delighted in taunting her so much when they’d been growing up.
‘You can’t bullshit a bullshitter and I’m one of the best, considering I’ve been deluding myself for years.’ He gestured at the sofa. ‘Can we at least sit and discuss this like two rational human beings?’
She didn’t want to. Every muscle in her body was tensed in fight or flight mode and she wanted to flee. But she eventually gave a terse nod and took a seat in a worn armchair opposite the sofa.
He sighed and sat on the sofa, hating the distance between them as much as her closed-off expression.
‘Are you avoiding this discussion for a reason?’
‘No.’ Her mouth was downturned, sadness emanating from her. ‘I know it has to happen.’
‘Then what’s going on?’
Her bottom lip quivered and he hated himself for doing this to her. But she straightened before his eyes, drawing her shoulders back, tilting her head up, staring him down and he almost applauded.
‘The sex was great, don’t get me wrong, and I don’t regret a single moment. But I’ve got a new job to focus on and you’ll be heading off to your next gig overseas any day now, so let’s not drag this out.’
Typical Polly—logical, well thought-out, factual. But she’d forgotten one thing: he’d come back to Sydney for the first time in five years because he’d sought resolutions and that meant confronting his fears. Including his fear of not being good enough for a woman like her and he wanted to know if she felt...something beyond the physical.
‘What if I don’t leave?’
She blanched and clasped her hands in her lap. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean exactly that. Sure, my job takes me overseas, but what if I returned home and set up a base here permanently? Would you want to continue our fling?’
‘Why should I?’
She sounded defiant but her gaze darted away, like she didn’t want him seeing the flicker of hope in her eyes.
‘I’ll be honest, Pol, I like chasing the next high and that means finding new challenges. This is the longest I’ve dated anyone and we’re phenomenal together in bed, so why not prolong the fun a tad longer?’
He dragged in a breath and held it, resting his elbows on his knees, trying to appear casual when nothing could be further from the truth.
When she dragged her gaze back to his, he glimpsed a shimmer of tears. ‘I’m sorry, Ryder. I’m tired of being just another conquest for you. It’s definitely time you moved on to the next challenge.’
Reeling, he tried to assimilate her declaration. She’d implied she was merely another woman in a long list of women. It wasn’t far off the truth, but why should it matter to her unless she was emotionally invested?
‘Pol, I’m sorry if you’ve developed feelings—’
‘Go,’ she said, leaping to her feet. ‘Please.’
She stomped towards her bedroom, pausing in the doorway. ‘I can’t do this, Ryder. We’re over, just like we both agreed, so please leave me alone.’
He hadn’t expected this to be easy but as he headed for the door he didn’t know what hurt more. The fact he’d hurt someone he truly cared about or the fact he’d lost one of his oldest friends.
He’d been an idiot to imagine they could have sex and maintain a friendship afterwards. What had he been thinking?
He hadn’t, that was the problem. He’d been blinded by his longstanding attraction to Polly and had let his dick override his common sense.
She wanted him to leave her alone, so he’d do it.
His trip to the United States couldn’t come soon enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
POLLY WAITED UNTIL she heard the front door slam before sliding down the wall and landing on her butt, hard. Only then did she allow herself the luxury of crying, great, jagged sobs that made her chest ache. Her eyes burned and her nose clogged as she mentally rehashed everything he’d said, and tried to convince herself she’d done the right thing.
He’d come here to end it, and she’d been prepared. Not tonight but for the conversation they would’ve had tomorrow. She’d planned it all out: wear one of her new power suits, blow-dry her hair, slather on the make-up and meet him somewhere public and impartial. Unfortunately he’d blindsided her tonight and she hadn’t reacted well. She’d let some of her emotions show and that was the last thing she’d wanted.
She couldn’t believe he’d actually said ‘I’m sorry if you’ve developed feelings.’ What a heartless bastard. Of course she had feelings for him, the primary one being stupid, one-sided, unrequited love.
She’d wanted to end this on her terms and he’d taken away that option, so it had been stilted and awkward and downright awful at the end.
They’d made the final break and it was for the best, for every logical reason she’d already worked through in her head. But that didn’t make it any easier on her aching, fractured heart.
She had no idea how long she sat on the floor, slumped and dejected, but when her sobs eventually petered out she pushed into standing and dragged herself to the bathroom. Glancing in the mirror was a mistake. Bloodshot eyes, red nose, puffy cheeks—a horrible testament to the lie she’d just perpetuated.
Stripping off, she flicked the shower to hot and stepped under the jets, tilting her face up to wash away the remnants of her pain. But all the showers in the world wouldn’t eradicate the ache inside and she knew it would take a long time for her to recover.
The stupid thing was, five minutes later, after she’d towelled off and slipped into her oldest PJs, she wished she’d had the guts to tell him the truth.
That was the kicker in all this—being involved with Ryder meant she didn’t need trendy clothes or a makeover to feel l
ike she belonged at Sizzle. She’d achieved that on her own, with confidence and using her brain like she wanted.
He’d done that for her. Inadvertently, maybe, but seeing herself through his eyes had empowered her and she hadn’t looked back.
Knowing it was dumb to second-guess her decision but unable to help herself, she reached for her mobile to scroll through photos she’d snapped at Archie’s party earlier that day.
She’d known her bozo brother would want evidence of his big day but would be too busy having a good time to take any pics himself so she’d shot at random, giving him a choice of what he wanted to keep or delete.
Her finger slid across the screen, moving from one shot to the next, her heart flipping whenever she glimpsed Ryder. In all the posed photos he had a wide grin, his head close to Archie’s, their arms slung across each other’s shoulders. They’d been mates for a long time and it spoke volumes that even though Ryder hadn’t been home in years, Archie had reached out to him to organise his thirtieth.
As tears threatened again, her finger picked up speed, swiping through the photos. Until she reached the one she’d tried to ignore earlier, the one that told her more than words ever could.
She’d caught him off guard, staring directly at her, showing more emotion than she’d ever seen.
She hadn’t lingered over it earlier because she hadn’t wanted to analyse it. What would be the point when she had to end it?
But now she pored over the photo, studying it, hating it when her pulse picked up tempo and her reliable logic deserted her, allowing her imagination to take over. Was that tenderness in his eyes, in the soft smile curving his lips, in the dazed expression?
Was love the emotion written all over his face?
Her finger hovered over the delete button as she willed herself to stab at the little garbage bin icon.
Her finger edged towards it...but she couldn’t, and she flung her phone onto the other side of the bed and rolled away from it.
Besides, that photo might come in handy in the long, lonely months ahead when she had to remind herself she’d been right to sabotage the best thing to ever happen to her.
