by Nicola Marsh
I reached over and squeezed his hand. ‘Thanks. You’re a good friend.’
‘Anytime.’ His smile faded as the frown slashing his brows returned. ‘As for Tanner, I think you need to give him time. Space. Let him brood. Sulk. Whatever.’
He held up his hand and crossed his fingers. ‘And hopefully this time, he won’t screw up the best thing to ever happen to him.’
I valued Remy’s advice. But as someone who’d walked away from a relationship without looking back, I hoped Tanner wouldn’t do the same.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Tanner
‘YOU’RE IN A foul mood.’ Hudson strolled into my office and perched on the edge of my desk. ‘Woman troubles?’
‘Fuck off,’ I snarled, not wanting to talk about Abby. Now or ever.
‘Nice.’ Hudson tapped at the screen of his cell and turned it towards me. ‘What do you think of this?’
Work I could do. Work would keep me focussed and driven. Work I could understand. Unlike the tumultuous feelings eating at me from the inside out, tainting every waking moment and most sleeping ones too.
It had been three days since I’d walked out of Le Miel. Seventy-two long hours where I’d fought every instinct to contact Abby. To explain. To apologise. To do something to ease the pain she must be feeling.
Because if she felt half of what I was feeling, she’d be in frigging agony.
I squinted at the screen. ‘A live show?’
Hudson nodded. ‘Lots of the Vegas clubs are doing them these days. Hosting special live events to draw in the crowds.’
‘We’re not known for being a live venue.’
‘Which is why this is so innovative.’ He brandished the cell at me again and I swatted it away. ‘What’s happened to the guy always ready to take a risk?’
I’d taken a risk with letting Abby into my life and look how that had turned out. Risks were for suckers.
‘Do a proposal. Set out figures for me. Then email me and I’ll take a look.’
‘That’s the spirit.’ Hudson gave me a thumbs up. ‘Now how about we hit the town tonight? Boys’ night out. Involving copious amounts of alcohol and luscious babes. What do you say?’
The thought of being near another woman right now set my teeth on edge. Crazy, because Abby and I were over. I owed her nothing. But it was too soon.
‘Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be working late tonight.’
Hudson stood and huffed out a breath. ‘Look, at the risk of getting my teeth punched out, you’ve been locked away in here for three days straight. You snap at anyone who ventures close. The staff are afraid of you. And I’m sick of you treating me like an enemy rather than a friend.’
He jabbed a finger at me. ‘So do whatever it takes to lighten the fuck up, okay? Confront what’s got you so riled. Get it out of your system. Deal with it.’
The only thing that would lighten my mood was to see Abby again and that wasn’t going to happen. Not in this lifetime.
‘Thanks for the pep talk, mate,’ I drawled, and pointed at the door. ‘Now get the hell out and leave me alone.’
‘Dickhead,’ he muttered, shaking his head as he strode towards the door, where he paused. ‘For what it’s worth, I liked you better when you were dating that Abby chick. She made you happy.’
I made a growling noise and stood, my fingers clenching into fists.
Hudson held up his hands in surrender. ‘Just saying,’ before he closed the door on his way out.
Abby had made me happy but that was over.
The faster I got my head around it, the better.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Abby
‘WHAT DO YOU THINK?’
I glared at Makayla as my back twanged for the umpteenth time. ‘I think Pilates is for pretzels.’
‘It’s your first class. You’ll get the hang of it after a few more.’ Makayla interlinked her fingers and stretched overhead. ‘It’s brilliant for flexibility and core strength.’
‘I’ll take your word for it.’ Wincing, I managed to stand. ‘In the meantime, I’ve got a hot bath with my name all over it.’
‘Fancy going out tonight?’
It had become Makayla’s standard invitation over the last three days. Ever since Tanner had walked out of my life and I’d let him.
‘Thanks, but I’d rather chill.’ I rolled my shoulders, hoping they didn’t spasm. I had a big croissant order to fill tomorrow.
‘A night out might do you good.’ Makayla slung a towel around her shoulders and mopped her face. ‘Get him out of your system.’
Nice in theory. Sadly, I had a feeling it would take a lot of practice to get Tanner out of my system.
‘You’re a good friend. But I’m okay, honest.’
A total lie, but I’d managed not to shed a tear yet, and I aimed to keep it that way. Easier to keep busy at work, then watch mindless sitcom reruns at night and fall into bed exhausted. I had a feeling if Makayla started asking questions about why things ended with Tanner, delved too far beneath my fragile surface, I’d crack. Once that happened, everything I’d been keeping locked away tight might spill out and that would be disastrous.
‘You don’t have to lie to me.’ Makayla slumped onto a bench lining the mirrored wall of the exercise studio and patted the spot next to her. ‘I can see how much you’re hurting all over your face.’
I grimaced as I sat next to her. So much for my poker face. ‘That obvious?’
‘I’ve been there. It sucks.’ She shrugged. ‘Did he give you a reason why he split?’
‘Uh...we haven’t spoken.’
Her eyebrows shot up. ‘What do you mean?’
‘When Remy got back, he left, and we haven’t spoken since.’
Makayla stared at me in confusion. ‘You haven’t called him to ask what’s going on?’
‘Nope.’
‘Why the hell not?’
‘Dignity. Pride. Nonchalance. Take your pick.’
‘You’re nuts.’ Makayla elbowed me. ‘It’s been three days and you haven’t wanted to see him? To talk to him?’
I knew exactly how long it had been since I’d last seen Tanner, beyond that fleeting glimpse when he’d brought Remy in. The morning I’d left him sexy and sleepy in my bed. The morning he’d held my hand, stared into my eyes and opened his mouth to say something, possibly momentous, before he’d chickened out.
I had too. I could’ve nudged him, given him another opportunity. Instead, I’d bolted for the shower and waited until he’d left before coming out of the bathroom. If I’d known that would be the last time I’d see him, would I have done things differently? Probably not. I was lily-livered that way.
I hadn’t known what had scared me more that morning: the possibility of Tanner saying he wanted a long-term relationship or me saying hell yeah.
‘Remy and I had a chat. He advised I give Tanner some time to brood.’
‘Wrong.’ Makayla made a buzzing noise. ‘Guys like him will retreat into their man cave, mull over the situation, invent reasons to suit their argument, then never call again.’
A sliver of doubt pierced my previous calm. I’d assumed Remy knew best. He’d given me insight into Tanner’s state of mind and I understood his need to think things over.
But what if Remy’s advice had missed the mark in this instance? What if I’d played this all wrong, giving Tanner too much time?
It made me wonder. What would’ve happened if I’d approached my family after I’d left? Would they have been more amenable to hearing my side of the story once the initial shock of my defection wore off? Would we have had some semblance of a relationship rather than this weird standoff that had finally been broken by my mother?
I’d been so busy playing the victim this last year, too busy blaming them, to realise that I could’ve made
the first move.
Establishing my independence was one thing. But I’d let the hurt of being judged and then abandoned by them taint my view.
Once I’d got past Mum’s initial rants about ruining the Prendigast name and bringing shame on the family, I could’ve reached out. Could’ve explained how downtrodden I’d felt my entire life. How Bardley had made my life hell.
I could’ve revealed how observing Mum kowtow to Dad on every single issue ensured I did too. That I hated his quick temper when he lashed out for the slightest disagreement. That it was easier to say yes to whatever they wanted than tolerate the emotional shutdown and icy silences that followed the few times I’d tried to take a stand. That being a people-pleaser became so ingrained that it had taken me a year to finally feel like I had a backbone.
Instead, I hadn’t told them the truth about how I’d felt. I’d given them time and space too. Just like I was doing with Tanner.
Hell. Had I made a monumental mistake?
‘Listen, honey, you need to talk to him. Three days is too long to leave a guy to his own devices.’ Makayla swivelled to face me, tugging on the end of her ponytail, a gesture I’d come to realise meant she was worried about something. ‘Who knows what bullshit excuses he’ll come up with for you two not to get together?’
She patted my arm, her smile warm. ‘And trust me, you two belong together.’
I liked her confidence. Pity I didn’t share it.
‘Why? Because we’re both dysfunctional when it comes to relationships?’
‘Because I’ve seen the way you two are around each other.’ She bumped me gently with her shoulder. ‘It’s like no one else’s in the room. You’ve only got eyes for each other.’
‘You read too many romance novels,’ I said, knowing exactly what she meant, because that was how I felt when Tanner was around.
Like all he could see was me.
Heady stuff for a girl who’d always been second best to everyone else. Tanner made me feel wanted and cherished and important in a way I never had. And that was during our supposed fling.
What would it feel like to have a real relationship with a guy like that?
Considering how I might have mucked this up, I’d probably never know.
‘Go see him.’ Makayla nudged me again, more forceful this time. ‘Besides, you fought for your independence from your family. You fought to follow your dream to bake. Why wouldn’t you fight for love?’
My instinctive response, ‘I don’t love him’, died on my lips.
I hadn’t loved Bardley and I’d felt nothing but sadness I’d put up with so much for so long when I’d walked away from him.
I hadn’t seen Tanner for three days and I felt like my insides had been ripped out, put through a blender and stuffed back into me in disarray.
If that was love, did I really want any part of it?
Then again, Makayla was right. I’d fought hard to get where I was. I’d fought family expectations, social constraints and a possessive husband to gain freedom.
Tanner had become an important part of my life, no matter how hard I tried to dismiss him as bad-boy fling material to purge my past.
If I didn’t put up some semblance of a fight, I’d end up regretting it, and I’d had a lifetime of living with regret already.
Makayla must’ve seen something in my face, because she smiled. ‘Go home. Clean up. Then knock him dead.’
‘Thanks.’ I hugged her, emotion clogging my throat.
She wriggled out of my embrace and swatted me away. ‘And don’t forget, I’ll expect details tomorrow.’
‘If I make it into work.’ I winked, knowing I’d never let Remy down but hoping I wouldn’t get much sleep once Tanner and I made up.
‘Go get him, girlfriend.’ Makayla gave me a thumbs-up sign of encouragement as I tried to quell an aviary’s worth of butterflies slam dancing against my rib cage.
I would confront Tanner.
Ensure he wouldn’t shut me down.
I had a lot to say and I’d make sure he listened.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Tanner
FOR TWO HOURS after Hudson had left my office I tried to focus on work. But my concentration was shot and I ended up reading the same spreadsheets ten times, numerous applications for a cocktail waitress that blurred into one, and staring unseeing at the architect’s plans for an upcoming venture.
Shit.
I stood and stretched, working out the kinks in my back, feeling like I’d wasted an entire afternoon and had nothing to show for it.
Grunting in frustration, I picked up my keys and cell. Maybe a workout at Jim’s would help. But as I drove out from the underground car park, a sparring session lost its appeal. The mood I was in I was liable to knock someone’s head off and that wouldn’t be good for anybody.
I pulled up at a traffic light, hating the indecisiveness that plagued me. Usually, when I made decisions I stuck to them. But my head was a whirl of dark thoughts, mostly centred on how I’d screwed up yet again.
As the light changed to green, something Hudson had said reared up like a grizzly demanding to be heard.
‘Confront what’s got you so riled. Get it out of your system. Deal with it.’
Easier said than done. I’d love to confront the prick that’d done such a number on me that I still heard his derisive voice in my head sometimes. Berating me. Castigating me. Putting me down.
A crazy thought pierced my self-pity. There was a way I could confront him. Do something I hadn’t tried before to put the past behind me. It wouldn’t come close to coming clean face-to-face, but it would be a gesture I could’ve tried a long time ago.
Feeling like a fool, I headed for the small cemetery on the outskirts of Surrey Hills.
I’d only been to the place once, on the day of Dad’s funeral. I hadn’t wanted to go. Remy had made me, citing it would look bad if I didn’t show and might raise red flags with Social Services that he had no control of me and therefore would be a lousy guardian.
The thought of losing the one person who meant anything to me was enough to scare me into an ill-fitting suit and into the neat cemetery where a handful of mourners had gathered.
It didn’t surprise me that hardly anyone turned up for his funeral. He hadn’t had many friends. People rarely came to visit. He didn’t go out. Maybe if he’d socialised more, he wouldn’t have focussed all his attention on me; and not in a good way.
Considering his hatred of me stemmed from Mum, he must’ve made her life hell too but she’d hidden it from us kids. We’d never gone on outings as a family and he’d kept long hours, coming home late from the building site to sit on the couch in front of the TV, more interested in the news than Remy and me.
We’d done our homework in the kitchen, with Mum pottering around, content to listen to the recount of our days. She’d ply us with snacks and make us laugh, her impulsive hugs growing more frequent the more Dad withdrew.
On the rare Sundays he was home, I had a vague recollection of being shunted into the backyard with Remy to play while they talked in the house. Though Mum wouldn’t last long inside and she’d soon join us on the back lawn, where we’d play tag or cricket.
Until that fateful day when I’d heard raised voices and my first instinct was to protect Mum. She never shouted, so for her voice to reach me in the furthest corner of the backyard meant things were bad. Remy had been at a friend’s birthday party, leaving me to decide whether I should keep weeding or check if Mum was okay.
I chose the latter. And what I overheard explained so much.
I’d hidden behind the back door as the argument escalated, frozen in shock, wishing I were bigger so I could punch my father and knock him out for saying such hateful things.
Tears had burned my eyes but I’d refused to cry. I needed to be strong. For Mum.
&n
bsp; She’d spied me when she’d rushed out the back door, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen, her mouth trembling. She’d gathered me close, squished me in the way she always did, and I’d felt her shaking. She’d said she had to go for a drive and she’d bring me back my favourite humbug lollies.
She never came back.
Her car had veered off the road and into a tree less than two kilometres from our house. The police hadn’t been able to explain the cause of the accident but I knew. She’d been so distraught by the disgusting, vile accusations hurled by my father, she hadn’t been concentrating on the road.
Thankfully, brake marks and the pattern of skid showed she’d tried to avoid the tree, because I couldn’t have handled the fact she’d been hurting so badly she would’ve abandoned me to that monster.
That day when she got in her car, I remember being scared, left alone with Dad after what I’d overheard.
Little did I know that hour would turn into five miserable years where I’d tolerated whatever the old bastard dished out, wishing every single day that he’d been the one to die instead of Mum.
Surprised to find my eyes moist with unshed tears, I pulled into a parking spot and composed myself before heading into the cemetery.
He didn’t have a fancy gravestone. Remy had opted for a small plaque that simply had his name, date of birth and death, and RIP. Rest in peace my ass. I hoped he was squirming in hell, hopping around to avoid the flames.
I stood over the plaque, glaring at it, resisting the urge to kick it. Why should he rest in peace when I’d had nothing close to peace because of him?
‘You were a piece of work,’ I said, thrusting my hands in my pockets, rocking on the balls of my feet as if spoiling for a fight. ‘You were a mean, spiteful bastard that made my life hell. Which is where you’re at now and I hope you’re burning.’
Stupid, talking to a piece of stone, but it somehow felt cathartic. So I continued.
‘Remember that time you locked me in the cellar because I didn’t eat my broccoli? Well, the joke was on you, because the first thing I did when you let me out was go dip your toothbrush in the toilet.’
