Six Naughty Nights: Love in Reverse, Book 2

by Serenity Woods

  “I applied too late for this year, but next semester I’m doing some correspondence courses to give me some background into the subject.”

  “You do know it means you actually have to write things down,” Dan said with a grin, and everyone laughed.

  “Really?” Toby raised his eyebrows. “Damn.”

  Esther gritted her teeth. She hated how he let the others put him down like that.

  “And you have to sit still for more than five minutes in seminars,” Eve said. “Do you think you’ll be able to manage that?”

  “I’ll do my best.” He smiled, but Esther could see the hurt shining behind his eyes. Why didn’t they realise how their comments made him feel?

  “He’ll be all right if he has to count up to twenty providing he can take his socks off,” Rusty said.

  Esther slammed her cup down with a crash into the saucer. “Stop it!” she yelled.

  Everyone stared at her. “Esther…” Toby said cautiously.

  Nausea rose inside her, but she wasn’t going to keep quiet. She’d probably never see them again anyway—what did it matter if she upset them all?

  “No,” she said, “I’m fed up with everyone talking to you like this.” She glared at Rusty and Dan in turn. “You always put him down and talk to him like he’s an idiot. He has feelings, you know.”

  “It’s all right, Esther,” Rusty said calmly in what she assumed was his best teacher’s voice. “He knows we don’t mean it.”

  “Does he?” She met his green gaze boldly. “Did you all know that he’s only taking this degree for you?”

  Everyone around the table stared at her. Toby stood, his face thunderous. “Come with me.”

  “No.” She stayed sitting.

  Martha frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “He loves his job. He’s a fantastic carpenter—he’s got a natural talent for it. So he’s not an academic—that doesn’t mean he’s inferior to the rest of you.”

  “We’ve never said that,” Dan told her, his eyes cool.

  “Maybe not, but you imply it every time you call him a Neanderthal or a caveman.” She’d hit home—they all looked guiltily at each other. “He’s more intuitive and thoughtful than the rest of you put together. He’s only doing this course because he thinks he has to, to get your approval.”

  “Esther!” Toby’s face flushed. She’d embarrassed him.

  “But I’m right, aren’t I?” She stood, burning with her intense need to make them all understand. “You don’t really want to do this. You’re not interested in architecture, not in this way. You’re amazingly skilled, Toby—I’ve never met anyone with your talent. You’re going to be wasted sitting behind a drawing board. What’s the point, when all you want to do is get out there and deal with the buildings themselves?”

  He fixed her with a steely gaze. “You’re spoiling everyone’s breakfast. Outside, now.” It was the tone he used on her in the bedroom. The “do as you’re told” tone.

  Silence descended on the table. Her bottom lip trembled, so she bit it. Martha stood, pity on her face, and held out a hand toward her, but she ignored it and bent and picked up a quiet Charlie out of his seat.

  “Sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to ruin breakfast.”

  She turned and walked out.

  Toby caught up with her in the foyer. He grabbed her arm and forced her to turn around. “Where are you going?” he snapped.

  “I’m getting my bag, and then I’ll call a taxi to the airport.”

  He stared at her. “But your flight’s not until Monday.”

  “There are always free seats. I’ll wait until one becomes available.”

  His eyes blazed. “So you’re running away?”

  “What’s the point in staying?” Misery made her angry. She hefted Charlie onto her hip, and he sucked his thumb, curling up against her. “We’re over, Toby. We were never going to be anything more than just sex. We both knew that. How could we be, after what we’ve done to each other?”

  “I love you,” he said simply.

  She caught her breath. It was the first time he’d said it.

  “I love you too.” She swallowed. “But it’s not enough. We’ve hurt each other too badly.”

  “Bullshit.” For the first time he looked really angry, clenching his hands as he glared at her. “I asked you to marry me.”

  Indignation made her raise her voice. “By text! When you were drunk!”

  His jaw bunched as if he was gritting his teeth. “Even so. There’s more at stake here than me and you. There’s Charlie, and we have to talk about him.”

  “We will. I’ll call…or something. But now, I just want to go.”

  He stepped in front of her as she went to walk away. “Well, I want to talk. For God’s sake, we have a son. Surely it’s worth us at least trying to discuss having a future.”

  “You really think we could be happy?” she snapped. “Knowing what we’ve done? How could we be sure the hurt we feel would ever go away?”

  “We can’t. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. Sweetheart, relationships don’t come with a guarantee. That’s what makes them exciting. Two people have to spend time together to explore whether they’re right for each other. Sometimes it doesn’t work out.”

  “Or ever, in your case,” she said spitefully.

  “Or yours,” he snapped.

  She looked away. A tear ran down her cheek.

  In her arms, Charlie started crying. She kissed his curls, aching inside.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said to Toby.

  “Don’t do this.” Toby caught Charlie’s fingers in his own. “Don’t take him away from me.”

  “I’ll be in touch.” Tears poured down her face. “I’m sorry. I know I’m a coward.”

  “We can sort something out…”

  She disengaged his fingers from Charlie’s. The pain on Toby’s face made her curl up inside. But she had to get away before she collapsed into a sobbing ball. “I’ll call you.”

  “Daddy!” Charlie screamed as she turned.

  That made her pause. A long-term relationship with Toby would never work, and breaking his heart—and her own—was an inevitability she had to deal with.

  But breaking her son’s heart was something else.

  She should stay and plan the future, work out a way for Toby to play a part in his son’s upbringing and reassure Charlie he wasn’t losing Toby forever.

  But at that moment, she knew that if she stayed she would totally break down, and she needed to be as strong as she could for Charlie.

  Tears pouring down her face, she walked away.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  When Esther left, the summer seemed to leave with her. The weather turned cold and it rained continually, dense, heavy sub-tropical rain that pooled on the drive and made the water tanks overflow.

  Toby lay on the sofa, thinking that he should really get up on a stepladder and pull out the plants he’d seen peeking over the edge of the guttering. But he didn’t move, too listless to motivate himself to do anything but lie there and listen to the music playing on his iPod.

  He did rouse himself when a knock came at the door, even though his heart sank at the thought of seeing his mother’s worried face again. His fridge was full with pasta bakes and shepherd’s pies as she tried to encourage him to eat, but his appetite had completely vanished after Esther left.

  He opened the door, surprised to find not his mother’s worried face but instead two other equally worried faces.

  “Hey,” Rusty said. “Can we come in?”

  “Please?” Faith begged.

  Toby looked at his feet for a moment. Rusty had rung repeatedly for the past two weeks, asking him to come out, and they’d even come around a few times, but each time he’d turned them away, insisting he was fine and just needed some time to himself.

  This time, however, he couldn’t resist the tears that glistened in Faith’s eyes. “Sure.” He walked into the living r
oom, leaving them to close the door. Hands in the pockets of his jeans, he turned as they stood awkwardly before him. “Want a drink?”

  To his surprise, Faith walked up to him and slid her arms around his waist, resting her cheek on his chest. Startled, he took his hands out of his pockets and put his arms around her, looking at Rusty over the top of her head. Rusty just gave a rueful smile.

  “Hey, you. Everything okay? Is the baby all right?” Concern swept over him, and he pulled back and looked at her waistline.

  “The baby’s fine,” she said huskily, resting her hand on the growing bump.

  “Good—come and sit down though.” He led her to the sofa where she sat next to Rusty and took the chair opposite them. “What’s up?”

  Faith glanced at Rusty, and they exchanged a look. “We’re worried about you,” she said.

  He leaned back and scratched at a mark on his jeans. “I’m all right.”

  “Actually you look better than I thought you would,” Rusty said. “I thought we’d find you surrounded by empty whisky bottles, unshaven and staring at Esther’s picture.”

  Toby gave a ghost of a smile. “Well, as you can see, I’m completely sober, beardless, and there’s not a picture in sight.” Mainly because he only had the one picture of her on his phone. And none of Charlie. His son.

  He hadn’t drunk a drop of alcohol since she’d gone.

  He was kind of worried that if he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  “Actually that’s even more scary,” Faith said softly. “Have you heard from her?”

  He looked out at the rain. “She rang a few days ago from Christchurch. She got the job in Dunedin. They’re moving down on Friday.”

  Faith frowned. “Did you talk to her?”

  “I just said—”

  “No, I mean talk to her? Or did you both talk at each other?”

  He said nothing. They’d hardly talked at all, to tell the truth. A few brief, clipped sentences. Both of them defensive, waiting for the other to warm. Both of them cold and refusing to give in.

  He sighed, wishing he’d told Faith and Rusty to go away. “Forget it, Faith. It’s all done and dusted. I wish it had turned out differently, but it’s too late now.”

  “It’s never too late,” she said.

  “I wish I could believe that, but I think things are too far gone to mend.” Sadness overwhelmed him. He’d be damned if he was going to cry in front of them though.

  “It’s never too late when there are those three little words left to say,” Faith said.

  He heaved a sigh. “I told her I loved her. She said she loved me too, but that it wasn’t enough.”

  “Not those three little words,” Faith said impatiently. “The other three.”

  There were another three little words? Puzzled, he glanced at Rusty, who pulled a no idea face and shrugged.

  Faith rolled her eyes. “Jeez, you two are hopeless. I. Am. Sorry?”

  “Oh…”

  She smiled. “It’s amazing how far that sentiment can take you, sweetie. I have to ask you something. Did you ever apologise for walking out on her in Fiji?”

  He opened his mouth to tell her yes, of course he had. Then he closed it slowly.

  Had he? He must have, when he met her in Christchurch during the earthquake. He tried to think. He couldn’t actually remember saying it. After they’d first made love? Surely he had, somewhere along the line. “Um…”

  Rusty looked exasperated. “Dude…”

  “Yeah,” Faith said to him, “you’re skating on thin ice, Thorne.”

  “What have I done?” he said indignantly. “I apologised. On numerous occasions.”

  “Eventually.” She relented and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek before turning back to Toby, who sat there with his head spinning. “The thing is,” she continued, “and I know you know this—you hurt her dreadfully when you walked away from her in Fiji. You broke her heart. She is absolutely crazy about you, honey. Yes, she should have tried to find you and tell you about Charlie. That was dumb, and spiteful, and hurtful. But she knows that, and she regrets it every day.” Faith sighed. “She did it out of self-preservation. She was terrified that if she came to find you, you’d just turn your back on her again. For God’s sake, you rejected her after a holiday romance. Why would she think you’d be interested in happy ever after?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “How can we ever get past what we’ve done to each other? She’ll never be able to forgive me for walking away, and I don’t know that I can ever forgive her for not telling me about Charlie.”

  “The thing about forgiveness is that it’s not about forgetting. It’s not about pretending it didn’t happen. It’s about accepting that someone made a mistake. That they did something because they were hurt, or angry. And it’s about acknowledging that although it’s not okay, providing they show remorse it is possible to move on. You have to accept the other person isn’t perfect. Loving someone—real love, not hearts and flowers stuff—is about recognising their faults and saying it’s okay, I’m going to love you in spite of them.”

  “She knows what she’s talking about,” Rusty said. “Hell knows she’s had enough to forgive where I’m concerned.”

  “Hey, we’ve all done things we regret,” she said. “We’re only human.”

  Toby thought about her words. Hope simmered somewhere inside him. Was it possible they could grow to forgive each other? Enough to move on and work toward a future, anyway?

  “The thing is,” he said, “when I spoke to her, she said nothing about putting things right. I don’t think she wants to work it out.”

  “She’s racked with guilt, Toby. She knows damn well what she did to you, and to Charlie, and she’ll never be able to forgive herself for that. She doesn’t think you want a future either.”

  He stared at Faith. “You’ve spoken to her.”

  She scratched her nose. “Maybe.”

  “When?”

  “Most days, since she left.”

  He couldn’t think straight. Why would Esther be speaking to Faith and not to him? “I don’t understand.”

  Her expression softened. “She loves you, honey. You should have seen her face when she got that text from you—the one where you proposed. She lit up like a firework display.”

  “But…” His heart banged away at the notion that she’d been excited at his proposal. “She thought I was an idiot, texting when I was drunk.”

  “Well, you were. It doesn’t change the fact that you did it.”

  They fell quiet for a moment. He was surprised they couldn’t hear his heart, it was so loud in his ears.

  “How’s the project coming along?” Rusty asked.

  Toby smiled slowly. “Pretty good.”

  “Can I see it?” Faith said eagerly.

  He stood and walked over to the corner, where an item stood draped in a cloth. He lifted the cloth off.

  “Oh my God.” Faith covered her mouth with a hand and went over to examine it. “Oh, Toby, it’s beautiful.”

  He ran a hand along the wood. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

  “He’ll love it.”

  “It’s fantastic,” Rusty said. “Esther was right—you are talented.”

  Toby shrugged, but their words pleased him, even though he was conscious part of the reason they were praising him was due to their guilt after Esther’s accusation at the breakfast table. They’d all apologised to him afterward, which had embarrassed him immensely. Dan had even rung him from Rarotonga to chat over the phone and say he was sorry, followed by Eve, who had cried when she said how bad she felt. He’d brushed them all off, but deep down he had appreciated it.

  “When are you going to send it?” Rusty asked.

  “I’ll finish it over the next couple of days and get it couriered down.” He covered the item with the cloth.

  “Okay,” Faith said. “We’d better go. But look, think about what I said, won’t you?”

  “Yeah.” He kiss
ed her on the cheek and shook Rusty’s hand. “Thank you for coming around.”

  “No worries.” Rusty steered his wife toward the door, a hand in the small of her back. “Let us know if you need anything.”

  Toby waved them goodbye, then shut the door and went back to the sofa.

  Outside, the rain hammered against the window. It made him think of the day Esther had dressed up like a schoolgirl. Against his will, his lips curved.

  He thought about what Faith had said. Those three little words.

  Esther hadn’t said she was sorry for not telling him about Charlie either. That rankled. Why should he be the one to apologise?

  But then maybe she felt if he wasn’t going to apologise, why should she?

  For the first time, maybe, since he walked away from her in Fiji, he made himself really think about what he’d done. Yes, he’d regretted it, but he’d only really been thinking of himself when he’d tried to contact her at the university. He’d wanted to see her again. He hadn’t contacted her to say sorry. Maybe that was why she’d thrown the notes away.

  He forced himself to picture her in the airport, that fateful last day of their holiday. They’d been standing by the coffee bar, and she’d looked up at him with hope when she asked if they could stay in touch. He made himself remember the way the light had died in her eyes when he said no. All he’d been thinking about was how he didn’t want to be tied down.

  Faith said his words had broken Esther’s heart.

  A lump formed in his throat, and he covered his eyes with his arm, but it couldn’t erase the image of her from his mind, nor the memory of her standing there in the foyer of the hotel, misery etched into the lines of her face. She loved him. He knew that, and she’d even admitted it.

  She’d been cruel. But so had he.

  He lifted his arm and stared out at the rain. Yes, Charlie was his son, but he’d always be Charlie’s father. The question wasn’t really did he want them in his life.

  The question was: Could he live without Esther?

  And he realised he’d always known the answer to that.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  “You’re snoring,” Charlie said, shaking his mother’s arm. “Wake up.”