Something Real

by Ariadne Wayne

  Calling in sick, I dropped the boys off and returned home. Some part of me hoped that he would come around and talk to me, but all I could see in my mind was that other woman. He’d clearly already moved on.

  Maybe he wasn’t such a knight in shining armour after all.

  Rap, rap, rap.

  I jumped as the knock on the door broke through the silence.

  Grumbling, I got up before hope hit me in the face like a brick. Maybe Logan had had a change of heart; maybe he wanted to make up. Maybe I’d get the chance and be strong enough to tell him just how I felt.

  It was Maddy.

  “Olivia, I’m so glad you’re here. I’m so sorry,” she blurted out.

  Little Carly was in a front pack, her fuzzy little head poking out the top against Maddy’s chest.

  “What are you sorry for?”

  “I called Logan about the story in the paper. I assumed that he’d be happy, excited for you. Lord knows, I am. I think it’s wonderful.”

  I nodded, standing back to let her in. She moved through the door, cradling Carly’s feet as she made her way to the couch. “Sorry for turning up like this, too. I felt awful when I found out how he’d reacted. It’s all my fault.”

  I shrugged. “You’re not responsible. If you hadn’t told him, someone else would have. Do you want a coffee, or a juice or something?”

  “Juice would be great. I’m trying to stay away from the coffee with this one.” She lifted Carly out of the front pack and I smiled at the sight of the little girl. Her big blue eyes widened as she saw she was somewhere different, a grin growing on her face as she looked at me.

  “She’s so sweet. I can’t even remember my boys being that little,” I said. I turned towards the kitchen counter, taking two glasses out of the cupboard.

  “She’s growing like a weed. That’s what my mother used to say. She’ll be crawling soon enough; she’s already trying so hard to roll over.”

  When I turned, Maddy had spread a small blanket on the floor and laid Carly down on it. The little girl kicked and punched excitedly.

  I poured the juice, returning to the living room where I placed the glasses on the coffee table before sitting opposite Maddy.

  “Thanks. I was really hoping you were home so I could apologise. I felt so bad,” she said.

  “It’s my own fault. I should have told him what I was doing.”

  She looked up, her brown eyes full of sorrow. “He really liked you. I’ve never seen him like this before. He wasn’t even this upset when we broke up.”

  I sighed. “I love him, Maddy. I just got so confused, you know? Every time I’ve seen him with a woman, they were nothing like me. I thought he just wanted to be friends at first.”

  “Flirty friends. Yeah, I get that,” she said, picking up the glass.

  She smiled. Carly let out a squawk and we both looked down at the baby. She was so precious, I was sure I could feel my ovaries screaming at me.

  “It’s okay, monkey. I haven’t forgotten you’re there,” Maddy said.

  I sucked in my bottom lip, watching them. “Logan told me you live in my old house.”

  Maddy laughed. “Funny how that worked out. Actually, I spent a few days trying to track you down before I found out you were here.”

  I cocked my head. “So I heard.”

  “I started looking after Andrew slammed the door in your ex's face. No one yells at me, especially when my husband is around.”

  She grinned as I laughed out loud. Evan would have gotten one hell of a fright.

  “He turned up here,” I said. “I was glad Logan was around. Evan was angry that I’d sold the house, but he left us, so screw him.”

  Maddy laughed. “Good for you.”

  “I haven’t seen him since, either, thank goodness.”

  This was so good. She was so easy to talk to. Maybe if this whole mess was sorted, Maddy and I could become friends. The last thing I wanted was to come between her and Logan.

  “Logan’s miserable,” Maddy said quietly.

  “That makes two of us. I couldn’t face work today. He seemed to bounce back pretty quickly; he had some girl with him on Saturday night.”

  Maddy’s left eyebrow couldn’t get any higher. “He came to see us yesterday and never mentioned that. I’ll ask him.”

  I shook my head. “Maddy, please. I don’t want my problems causing issues between you and Logan. That’s the last thing that needs to happen. You don’t even know me.”

  Her mouth twisted, as if she was trying to think of what to say. “Fine. But, if you need anything, you tell me. Logan will come around; I’m sure of it. He has a heart of gold that guy. He put up with me for a lot longer than he probably should have, and is still a good friend. He loves you, Olivia. I know that much.”

  She said the words. She said the goddamn words I wanted to hear but was too scared to.

  “I love him, too. I guess you’re right. If it’s meant to be, it’ll sort itself out.”

  * * *

  “Rachel Peterson, please. Yes, I’ll hold.”

  I tapped my fingers on the table impatiently. At the very least, I wanted the reporter to know just how upset I was.

  “Rachel Peterson speaking.”

  “Rachel, this is Olivia Grant.”

  Silence.

  “You know, the woman you screwed over by writing your shitty little story for your shitty little paper.”

  Oh, that feels good.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way. I thought it was an amazing achievement.”

  “An amazing private achievement.”

  More silence.

  “I want an apology ...”

  I’d never felt so angry, so alive. “Look, you picked the wrong time in my life to piss me off. So I suggest you get your boss to call me, or I will track him or her down and tell her how annoyed I am.”

  I slammed the phone down. It didn’t make anything better, but it helped get a load of my chest. None of it really mattered. It didn’t matter if they apologised to me or not, if I had to get lawyers involved or not. None of it would fix my broken heart and repair my relationship with Logan. None of it.

  Half an hour later, the phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Mrs Grant? My name is Anthony Prendagast. I’m the editor of the Central Star. I understand you have a problem with an article we printed.”

  I took a deep breath. “Too right I do. I got a call from your reporter and I told her no, I wasn’t interested. And for whatever reason you printed the damn thing anyway. This was nobody’s business but my own.”

  “You’re right.”

  What? He agreed with me?

  “I'll be printing an apology in the next issue. For what it’s worth, you should be very proud of what you’ve done, but I understand you wanting to keep it a secret, considering the nature of it.”

  Tears ran down my cheeks. How could someone who unknowingly ruined my life be so kind? I couldn’t very well yell at him anymore and I don’t think Rachel would be in any condition to deal with my venom. And I had plenty more to spew at him.

  “Thank you. I appreciate your honesty.”

  What else was there to do?

  * * *

  In the morning I got up and went to work. There was no sign of Logan, and all I wanted was to see him, talk to him, explain to him the truth. My heart was sick, and I knew no amount of crap I might get at work would make me feel any worse than I already did.

  Grace gave me the biggest smile as I walked in the door. It was actually pretty scary, and I wondered what I’d done to deserve it. She beckoned me by crooking a finger and I walked over to her desk reluctantly, just waiting for some smart-arse comment.

  “I downloaded that book of yours. It was amazing. The things that man did. When’s the next one coming out?”

  I gaped at her, not quite believing what I was hearing. Of all the people I knew I thought she would be the one who didn’t approve.

  “Uh, I don’t know.”
<
br />   “Let me know when it’s for sale and I’ll buy it.”

  “Sure.”

  I walked toward Rebecca’s office, past the staff room. A group of women were in there, making their morning coffees, and one of them spotted me.

  “Olivia,” she called.

  I sighed, and turned back toward the door.

  They started clapping and cheering, and my cheeks were blazing as I thanked them and kept going. Rebecca stuck her head out of her office, and smiled at me.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Grace tells me she loved my book, that lot applauding me … It’s like I’m living in the Twilight Zone.”

  She laughed. “They’re proud of you, Olivia. Get used to it. How did Logan take it? Can he live with being the inspiration behind a best-selling book?”

  Tears welled up, and she frowned, grabbing my arm and pulling me into her office. With the door shut, she sat me down on her couch and sat alongside me.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Logan hates me.” I sniffed and she pulled a tissue from the box on her desk, handing it to me. I wiped my eyes and blew my runny nose that had gone out in sympathy.

  “Oh, sweetie. What happened?”

  “He thinks I used him. I love him, Rebecca. I love the way he is with Jack and Thomas; I love the way he is with me. He’s so tender and loving and I am the worst person in the world right now.”

  She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me in tight while I cried. “No, you’re not. You fell in love; that’s what you did. And if he can’t see that, maybe you’re better off without him.”

  “It just hurts so much. And he’s right. At least once I asked him a question to help me get a scene right. I should have told him. What if I ruined my chance at finding happiness?”

  We sat with me cradled in her arms, patting my back like a child, caring for me the way no one else would right now.

  “Go home,” she said softly.

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Maybe you’ll see him to talk to and explain.”

  I looked up at her. “He’s not interested. He’s already moved on.”

  She clamped her lips together, giving me a steely glare that I’d only ever seen her use on people she was trying to intimidate. “What?”

  “He had some girl at his house on Saturday. We nearly had sex on Friday night and he’d replaced me the following day. How important was I?”

  A growl came from her lips, and I sat up properly. “I just have to accept that he doesn’t want me and move on.”

  If only it were that simple.

  Chapter Twenty

  I grumbled getting out of bed a few mornings later. My head was thumping, and I could feel a head cold coming on, but with no one to help I just had to keep going.

  All day I felt ask if I had a cloud wrapped around my head, and my brain was completely fogged over by the time I got home. I threw a quick dinner together for the kids, thinking only of my bed. Thomas crashed halfway through his meal, falling asleep on the living room floor. I lifted him gently, tucking him in and kissing him goodnight, all the while hoping that Jack and he wouldn’t catch this awful cold.

  “Are you okay, Mum?” Jack asked. He looked so worried, and I forced a smile on my face to reassure him.

  “I’m just tired, sweetie. I’ve got a bit of a cold. I’m going to go to bed, so if you want you can read a book, or I’ll let you have some extra television time just this once.”

  He smiled. It wasn’t often I let them watch television, so this was a real treat. I saw the indecision in his face on whether to stay with me or not.

  “I’ll just be in bed, and if you need me you just come and get me. Okay?”

  Jack nodded, kissing my cheek. “Love you, Mum. Hope you feel better in the morning.”

  “A nice sleep and I’ll be as good as new.”

  I sunk into the soft bed, sleep overcoming me as I closed my eyes.

  I’m sure I’ll feel better in the morning.

  My dreams were full of Logan, his arms warm and welcoming. And then I would feel like weeping at the thought of him no longer wanting anything to do with me. As much joy and money as my little venture had given me, it wasn’t worth losing his friendship. Now I needed him, wanted him here more than ever.

  Then I would see Jack and Thomas. My babies. I could weep for them, with their father who no longer gave a crap about them. It was my fault they’d lost Logan too. I never asked for him to act in that role for them, but he just had, as my friend.

  I’d dreamed of his hands on me, his mouth. The thought of his kisses made me ache with desire. But what would he want with me now? A single mother of two with nothing to offer him? I’d made a bunch of money from my one book that had been moderately successful, but there were no guarantees that my good luck would continue.

  Since our falling out, I hadn’t felt inspired to write anyway. Maybe there wouldn’t be a next book.

  My head swum, and I struggled to sit up before collapsing into the pillows again. I had no idea what the time was, just knew that there was light creeping through a gap in the curtains.

  “Mum?” Jack was by the bed, with Thomas by his side. I smiled at him, reaching up to stroke his face.

  “Hey,” I whispered.

  “Are you feeling better? We’re hungry.”

  “Of course you are. I’ll get you something to eat. Though, I think I’m going to have to come back to bed afterwards.”

  Jack beamed. “We can take care of ourselves,” he said. “If you make us breakfast, we can find toys to play with.”

  “I’m sorry I’m so useless today,” I croaked.

  “You’re sick, Mum,” said Thomas. “It’s okay.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay with it.”

  I climbed out of bed, wobbling as I stood. Jack stood next to me, pulling my arm around him. “Here, Mum. Lean on me.”

  Every bit of strength I had, I used to make them breakfast. It was just a drink and some cereal, and yet I was exhausted by the time I fell back into my bed. I shivered despite the warm room, but had no energy left to go and find the thermometer to take my temperature.

  Taking a long drink from the glass of water I’d brought back to bed with me, I fell asleep again, unable to keep my eyes open any longer.

  I hope the kids will be okay.

  And then I was gone into the oblivion of my illness, still fighting to stay awake because even though they were confident they could look after each other, I was all my children had.

  * * *

  “Liv.” Logan’s soft voice broke through the dream I was in the middle of fighting. Evan and I were arguing, and I was crying, apologising for some wrong I hadn’t committed, or something one of the boys had done. He’d spat the words, “I never wanted any of this, I never agreed to have them.” And I’d cried, falling to the floor, consumed by the grief caused by his words. Neither of them were planned, but I’d loved them from the moment I held those tiny bodies against me. At the time I’d thought he loved them too. Now, I relived losing him again, and the horror that it wasn’t just me that he was leaving.

  “Liv.” I heard it again, and struggled to open my eyes, coming out of the hell that was my marriage falling to pieces. A cool cloth to my forehead made it easier to focus, and I looked up to see Logan sitting at the side of the bed, his brows furrowed in concern.

  “What?” I croaked.

  “You should have called me. I would have taken care of the boys while you slept.”

  My eyes stung as tears welled up. “You’re not talking to me, remember? I guess now you can tell me what a shitty parent I am, too.”

  He frowned. “You’re not a shitty parent; you’re just dealing with all this by yourself. That would be hard for anyone. I’m here now. I’ll cook some dinner and I’ll hang around until you’re well enough to be back on your feet.”

  “Dinner?”

  A smile broke through, and he tap
ped my nose with his index finger. “You’ve slept all day, sleepyhead. Jack knocked on my door when he thought it was time for lunch. Told me to get my butt over here.”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry. I told them to wake me if they needed anything.”

  “Liv, you can’t do this alone. Not all the time. We’ll talk when you’re better, but I’ve missed you. More than I should.”

  I cocked an eyebrow, but moving my face ached so much I dropped it back again.

  “Get some more rest. I’ll bring you something to eat soon and then you can sleep again.”

  “You’re being so good to me.”

  “You mean a lot to me, Olivia Grant. You and your children. If I don’t take care of you, who will?”

  He stood, and I grabbed his arm as he began to move away.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, squeezing his bicep.

  He looked down at me and smiled. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

  I watched as he walked out, Thomas chatting excitedly as Logan re-entered the living room. My boys were happy, and that was what mattered. And now I knew I could recover and not worry about them.

  My heart leapt at his words. He had missed me, and now he was here for me. I didn’t care if he just wanted to be friends, I was just so glad he was back.

  Logan soon returned with a bowl of chicken soup he had made himself.

  “You’re so clever,” I murmured, taking a sip. My stomach grumbled at the smell of the food. I hadn’t realised just how hungry I was.

  “Not really. I just want to take care of you.”

  His brown eyes were full of emotion, and I could see just how much he’d missed us. Well, missed the kids.

  I still wasn’t that sure about me.

  Logan laughed at how quickly I got the soup down, and went to fetch another bowl. I loved the way he moved, his swagger in those jeans that fitted him like a glove. While my eye enjoyed the sight of him, my heart hoped for a resolution to our differences.

  Maybe we could make a fresh start. But then again, was I hoping for too much? He said we’d talk when I was better.

  What if it was to let me go?