by Leesa Bow
Hey. Sorry I didn’t get to see you and say goodbye. Missing you already. Need a friend. Everything has turned to shit! Good luck with your bball. Talk soon. Aubs x
Then I opened up Twitter and found a tweet that touched me. So I hit ‘Quote Tweet’.
@AubsTaylor: ‘Pain makes you stronger. Fear makes you braver, and a broken heart makes you wiser.’
So true! Only the message failed to mention that the pain remains. Moments later I received a notification: Hunter Stone favorited.
Shit. What game was he playing? Part of the message was directed to him. Then I cursed, realising his intention was to redirect the message back at me.
I locked my phone and pushed up from the chair. My chest tightened with every breath and my hands clenched into fists on the table.
Damn him.
My gaze went to the window, to my mother crouched and wiping sweat from her brow. I made Mum a cup of tea and carried both cups outside. ‘Hey, Mum, thought you could do with a break.’ I handed her the mug.
She pulled off her gloves and dropped them on the rock beside her. ‘Thank you. I’m almost done here.’ She looked over the rim of her cup at me. ‘How was your night?’
I sat on a garden rock opposite her. ‘You know —’ I hesitated. ‘Not so good.’ Tears pooled so I averted my gaze to the garden and pretended to inspect her work. I could feel her watching. ‘Why do you do this?’ I asked, trying to direct her attention to the ground. ‘I mean, after all your hard work the flowers die anyway.’
Mum tilted her head at me. ‘After all these years, you ask me why?’
A trick question? I nodded, not really knowing what to say.
‘Your father died in springtime. For many years I felt lost, miserable without him. So, by having flowers blooming in spring it would help me to smile when all I wanted to do was cry.’
Her words tipped me over the edge. Tears streamed down my face. I stood and walked to her, wrapped my arms around her and squeezed. ‘I’m so sorry, Mum. I’ve been a terrible daughter.’
‘Stop that. You’ve been a wonderful daughter, and I never said it to make you cry.’
‘I know,’ I whispered. ‘It’s just that I keep making mistakes and letting everyone down.’
‘Like who? Not me.’ She lifted my chin and looked directly into my eyes. ‘I think it’s time we pay your grandma a visit. Go change. We’re taking a drive to Victor Harbor.’
City folk think of Victor Harbor as the ideal holiday destination, especially with it being only an hour’s drive south along the coast. The attraction for many holiday goers was the fine restaurants, panoramic views of the ocean, sandy beaches and perfect surf.
Mum glanced at me momentarily before focusing back on the road. ‘Tell me about Hunter.’
‘What do you want to know?’ I asked apprehensively.
‘How he makes you feel.’
My chest tightened. ‘It hurts to talk about him.’
‘I know, sweetheart. But the more you talk the easier it gets, and the pain will lessen.’
‘But talking reminds me of what I no longer have. I think it’s better to forget, don’t you?’
Her lips pressed together. ‘You shouldn’t lock away your pain, it’s not healthy.’
My throat burned and I quickly found my water bottle, removed the lid and guzzled fluid to ease the lump in my throat. ‘I feel hollow, empty. Just like I did when I injured my knee.’
Mum nodded with a look of understanding. ‘I brought you here to talk to Gran because she helped me when I felt helpless.’
I remembered years ago when road trips to Victor were common. Gran had helped Mum through her grief and I assumed Mum thought Gran could offer me some advice.
Mum pulled into the single driveway to Gran’s house. It was built around a hundred years ago, with three cement steps leading from the driveway to the porch. At the other end of the porch sat a double-seater swing chair positioned perfectly to take in a sweeping ocean view. The front was a Tudor-style, grey-stoned house.
The front wire door swung open. ‘And to what do I owe the pleasure?’ Gran’s green eyes brightened. She wiped her hands on a floral dress. Come to think of it, I’d never seen her in anything other than a dress, regardless of the weather. She laughed with delight. ‘Come here and give me a big hug.’
We followed her through a carpeted hallway to the kitchen at the rear. The aroma of scones cooking in the oven brought on a flood of childhood memories. In my opinion, Gran could out-cook any celebrity on reality television.
She placed pots of jam and cream on a tray. ‘Come,’ she said. ‘Let’s eat outside.’ She led us out to a large pergola that overlooked the ocean. The view was glorious with clear blue skies and the temperature a mild seventeen degrees.
‘Eat,’ she demanded, ‘before they go cold.’
Just as I took a large mouthful of jam and scone, Gran asked, ‘Now what’s troubling you, Aubree?’ Gran sipped her tea and put it down with an expression that said she had all the time in the world.
I glanced at Mum and she nodded. ‘I just feel overwhelmed by a man I’m attracted to. I like him a lot and have done for years. I’ve tried not to because he’s a footballer and . . .’
‘Your heart chooses who to love, not you, Aubree.’
‘Well, it doesn’t matter because he’s not interested. We had a fight.’ It was a feeble attempt to act blasé, so I stuffed another scone in my mouth, hoping not to answer any more of her questions.
‘And how did that make you feel? I mean you, as a person?’
‘Lousy. Like I’m worthless,’ I managed, without spilling food.
‘You’ve experienced firsthand how quickly your world can change, turn upside down and inside out.’ She tilted her head in understanding, and I realised it wasn’t just Hunter she was referring to. My mind flashed back to what had instigated pain in my life. I could pinpoint my father’s death, my knee injury, and now Hunter.
‘You need to teach yourself how to cope in these situations, how to find an inner peace to sustain you.’ Gran gave me a moment to absorb what she was telling me. ‘Your mother and I believe in you, Aubree. You have to set yourself free.’
She couldn’t be more right. But it was difficult to let go of the darkness and move forward.
Gran nodded. ‘You may need to spend time alone to really plan what it is you want. Without influence from anyone,’ she pointed out. ‘You’ll soon discover that when you’re at peace you’re safe. When you accept yourself for who you are, you’re free.’
‘Aubree,’ Mum said softly waiting until I gave her my attention. ‘Sometimes saying goodbye is the hardest way to solve a problem.’
And I knew she was talking straight from her heart.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I reached for a hand towel and wiped sweat from my forehead while maintaining a steady pace on the treadmill. For the past two weeks my workouts were daily, twice on weekends, and I now managed to clock thirty minutes of running into my routine.
Like a woman possessed I pushed through pain barriers, determined to sweat Hunter Stone out of my system. I had ignored Twitter and Facebook, stayed at home with my mother, and only answered the occasional phone call from Maddy. I’d set a new rule: no talking about Hunter, something I had to remind Maddy about.
Gran was right. Since visiting her in Victor Harbor I’d made an effort to take care of myself and was reaping the benefit, feeling stronger. During workouts on weeknights, I used machines that didn’t have a television as a shield from seeing Hunter’s face splashed across the screen on the nightly news. His on-field altercation had stirred major tabloid attention. The city was holding its breath, waiting to hear if Hunter would receive a suspension and subsequently be banned from being a medal contender.
‘Iceman Suffers Major Meltdown’, ‘The Rock Crumbles’ and ‘Our Diamond Loses His Shine’ were some of the headlines splashed across the sports section of the newspaper. I didn’t bother to read on, even though part of m
e empathised. Not for what he’d done, but for the fact that his life in the public eye was so damn intrusive.
The treadmill beeped, indicating thirty minutes was up. I slowed the speedometer and picked up my phone. A message from Maddy flashed across the screen.
Can we please do coffee today? I’ve missed you! Meet me at the bay at 11 x
It was only nine in the morning and for a Sunday I was impressed to think Maddy was even awake.
Sure. See you then x
Maybe she wasn’t partying so hard. I laughed to myself when I thought of her reaction to my suggestion that she come with me to the gym at seven o’clock on a Sunday. It was like I’d asked her to hand over her kidney and liver. I wiped sweat from my arms, grabbed a mat and headed to the corner of the room to cool down and stretch. With one hand I tapped in another text.
I’ve missed you, too. Meet near the jetty x
Maddy sent me a text saying she’d be late, so I found a seat near the grassed section by the beach. The sun’s rays warmed my body and I thanked Mother Nature for the beautiful day.
I loved the sun, cherished the feeling of warmth, knowing summer was not far away. The thought of summer days on the beach sent a tingle down my spine. I could almost see it, feel it by closing my eyes and listening to the waves lap at the shore. The image almost took me into a meditative state until something blocked out the light and cast a shadow over me.
I opened my eyes slowly—my immediate reaction to ask the person hogging the sun to move—then I recognised his long legs in my favourite jeans. I looked up to a crinkled white T-shit, arms folded across a broad chest and an unshaven Hunter, and words failed me.
This couldn’t be happening. My gaze hit the ground, not wanting to see him, pretending he wasn’t there.
‘I got your text.’
‘What?’ I looked back at him, but he’d moved to the side and the sun burned straight into my eyes. Blinded, I looked down to his feet in black Havaianas.
‘You sent it in a group message saying, “miss you too”. I realised it wasn’t for me, but I called Maddy and she said you were meeting here.’
‘I’m sorry, it was meant for Maddy. I sent it at the gym while not concentrating.’ My chest tightened, not knowing where the conversation was heading. Had he come to fight? My fingers trembled just thinking about the night at the club. I laced them in my lap, trying to regain control.
He stood there for a moment not moving, not saying anything and I prayed that he didn’t make a scene. I still couldn’t look at him. Suddenly, his feet moved and he sat next to me. My eyes fixed on the ground.
What the hell was he doing?
‘So, what did you think of the footy?’ he asked in a low voice. There was no excitement in his voice, only a tone of forced conversation.
Random. I turned and found him staring at the ground, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees. He didn’t look at me. He just stared down.
‘I enjoyed watching you,’ I said softly.
His face changed like he was in pain. He turned his head in a slight movement, but I could still see his side profile. Whiskers covered his smile lines and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in over a week. I lowered my gaze and focused on his unironed white shirt, although you couldn’t tell by the way it hugged his shoulders. He reminded me of a scene in the Hulk movie, where his muscles expanded and ripped through the material.
Then I recalled his injured eye. I looked closer and noticed the stitches had been removed, and there was a fine line across his brow.
Hunter stiffened. ‘What are you doing?’ he asked slowly.
I sat back. ‘I was looking at your eye, checking it out.’
He turned to me and narrowed his eyes. His fringe swooped across his uninjured eye, giving him a bad-boy look. Realising his change in demeanour, my gaze shot to the ground. I focused on a pebble reflecting light from the sun, anything to divert my attention. I held my breath, ready for whatever he had to say. My hand slipped inside my bag to search for my phone, ready to call Maddy.
‘Are you really going to sit there and act like you care?’ His breath fanned my ear with every word.
My eyes pricked, but I forced back the tears. I was not going to let him get to me. I wanted to prove I was stronger. I closed my eyes and concentrated. My grandmother’s words flashed through my mind and I imagined strength filling me.
A moment later I turned and looked into his blue eyes, only inches from mine.
‘Yes, Hunter I am. I do care. I think you made it clear that you were the one who didn’t after the way you treated me.’
His brow arched. ‘Treated you?’
My phone rang and I stood, walked a few steps away from him.
‘Hi, Aubree, it’s Maddy. I’m here. Where are you?’
I turned around to search for her. ‘I’m near the jetty, but I’ll meet you at the cafe.’
‘I see you. Wait there,’ she insisted.
I hung up and looked at Hunter. ‘Maddy’s here, I have to go.’
‘Wait.’ He reached out and grabbed my hand. My breath caught in my throat at feeling his warmth and strength. ‘I want to talk.’
‘Can you talk without getting angry?’ When he didn’t respond I pulled my hand from his.
He stood up, towering over me, and I stepped back, denying him power. ‘I really don’t think there’s much left to say. I’ve forgiven you and moved on.’
‘Forgiven me.’ He shook his head.
In the distance I could see Maddy walking towards us, her long black ponytail swinging from side to side. ‘Yes.’ I turned and headed towards her, leaving Hunter standing behind me.
Seconds later he was next to me. ‘This conversation isn’t finished, Aubree. Don’t think you can walk away so easily.’
‘Hunter,’ Maddy interrupted. She hugged him. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’
‘I was in the area,’ he said to her, his gaze fixed on me.
‘Well, we better go.’ I looked him directly in the eye. ‘Goodbye, Hunter.’
His eyes widened. Maddy looked at Hunter first and then at me. Before she could say anything I started to back away.
‘Call you tomorrow to see how everything went,’ she said over her shoulder. I didn’t know what she meant by that and I wasn’t about to ask.
Maddy touched my arm. ‘Did I miss something?’ Her short legs moved quickly to keep up.
‘Not really. My rule still stands. No talking about Hunter,’ I insisted.
Maddy scrunched her brow and nodded.
Saying ‘goodbye’ was easy, I told myself. They were simply words. But my chest tightened with every step I took away from him.
On Monday night I was back in the gym. After tossing and turning most of the night before, I planned to work my rear to near exhaustion. If that’s what it took to get some sleep then so be it. I couldn’t take another night of lying wide awake thinking of Hunter.
I was torn between running to him and running from him. My heart said one thing, my brain another. If only kept repeating in my head, as well as scenarios of what if . . .
After connecting my earphones to the treadmill, I set the timer for thirty minutes. When I next glanced at a mounted television, Hunter’s face was plastered across the screen. Below read ‘Guilty’. The word cut to my core, and without hesitating I flicked my personal screen to the news channel. Despite promising myself to ignore all things Hunter, the news didn’t look good and I blamed myself for his on-field outrage. I maintained my running pace while I listened to the journalist describe Hunter’s report. Hunter had testified his innocence, but after much deliberation the commissioner had found him guilty. He was fined and given a three-match suspension. The camera zoomed in on his face as he walked from the hearing. I gasped at the sight of him wearing a suit. He looked hot. He glared at the camera, his blue eyes intense, but then he composed himself and ignored the cameraman as he walked back to his car.
Maddy would be devastated since she believed Hunter could win t
he medal and he was now out of the race. I slowed to a walking pace and tapped in a message on my phone.
Sorry to hear about Hunter. I know you’re disappointed. Call me if you want. x
I opened up Twitter to tweet something inspiring.
@AubsTaylor: Pain today is strength for tomorrow. #nevergiveup
The tweet was twofold. Partly for my benefit, and partly for Hunter’s.
After I finished stretching I headed back to the car. My phone beeped with a notification. Hunter Stone favorited.
And then I received a tweet from Hunter.
@HunterStone8: @AubsTaylor I’ll never give up #worththefight
By the time I got home Hunter had made several posts. I imagined some were directed at me.
@HunterStone8: You can let it get to you or you can move forward and let it make you better.
The tweet sounded like it was directed at his football and at me. But then I read,
@HunterStone8: Never run away from your problems.
Immediately, I understood the hidden message directed at me. If it was a Twitter war he wanted then he’d get one. Game on.
@AubsTaylor: The best can’t find you until you put the worst behind you #movingon
Mum was at work so I showered and dressed for bed, hoping to fall asleep early. I checked my alarm and noticed I had a new text message from Hunter.
Don’t like this game you’re playing so be warned, I only play to win. By now I think you realise I refuse to lose. Here’s a hash tag for you #IgetwhatIwant
What an arrogant son of a bitch! I stopped and took a deep breath, realising I wasn’t listening to my grandmother. I had allowed my competitive nature to take over, so negative emotion filtered my thoughts.
No more.
I responded to his text one last time.
Arrogance = negative behaviour. I’ve decided not to give negative people my attention. They don’t deserve it!
Then I switched my phone to silent and turned out the light.
I managed to sleep until six, but I had zero motivation to go to the gym. I checked my phone and noticed four missed calls from Hunter. My stomach flipped at seeing his name, but then I composed myself and accepted reality. I had to forget about him, move on. A sense of relief washed over me at the realisation that he must have taken the hint that I didn’t want to talk since he didn’t reply to my text.
