by Levine, Nina
I take the plates from her. “She wasn’t strict?”
Paris rolls her eyes. “Have you met the woman?”
Following her to the table, I say, “No.”
“I’m right here,” Luke says from the stove.
We ignore him.
“Apparently, she let him get away with everything. I’m surprised he’s turned out the way he has. He could have become so bratty with the way he was raised,” Paris fills me in.
“Tyler’s a little bratty,” I say. I’ve witnessed Luke’s brother pull some really bratty stunts, but for all that, he’s still a good guy.
Paris nods. “Yeah, he is. He’s lucky his father pulls him into line when needed.”
Luke joins us with a plate of pancakes and Sean jumps off the stool to come sit at the table. As we all sit and shovel pancakes onto our plates while laughing and joking, I feel a sense of belonging I’ve never felt. This is all new to the four of us, and I’m not really a part of their family yet, but I feel a little like I’m home.
About halfway through breakfast, Paris remarks to Luke, “You really need to come up with a better design for the backyard. I wanted to lounge on the sunbed while Sean was playing in the sandpit yesterday, but they’re too far away from each other. We need something near his swing and sandpit for me to be able to lie down and read while he’s playing.”
“You designed your backyard?” I ask, eyeing Luke. I explored a little out there last night. He has an awesome setup for Sean on one side of the yard and an area that looks like an adult’s retreat on the other side. Between the two is an immaculate lawn and well cared for plants.
“Luke’s an architect,” Paris declares.
His eyes meet mine. I hope my complete surprise isn’t showing. “I didn’t know that.”
“He’s won stacks of awards and worked for one of the best firms in Australia,” she says, her pride in her brother clear.
“Did you give up your job to take on the bar?”
He nods. “I was already contemplating a change when Dad left me the bar. I think that’s why he left it to me in his will rather than to both of us—”
Paris cuts in, “I told him I didn’t want it.” She turns to me. “Dad left me his car and his bike instead. I didn’t want them either, but he insisted I should get something. Told me to sell them and put the cash towards my study, so I did.”
“Why were you contemplating a career change?” I ask Luke.
“The pay was awful for the level I was stuck at and my boss, who started out great, had begun to stifle my creativity.”
Paris cuts in again. “He was just jealous of your success with your clients. His designs were so out-dated and lacked the fresh appeal yours did.”
Luke finishes off his pancakes and shoves his plate to the side. “Well, either I had to suck it up or find a new firm to move to. I was just starting to think about all that when Dad died.”
“Do you miss it?” I ask.
He doesn’t have to think about that. “Yeah, I do. It’s why I muck about with the yard.”
Sean finishes his breakfast and says, “May I please be excused?”
“Yes, but we need to wash your hands first,” Luke says.
Before he can stand, Paris does. “I’ll do it. Leave you two to have some time alone.”
After they leave us, I reach for Luke’s hand. “You have this whole other life I know nothing of. I can’t wait to learn all about it.”
He shakes his head. “That stuff’s all in the past, Callie. I just want to focus on the future.” His voice thickens, and his eyes turn hard while he speaks. His shoulders tense, and I sense a complete mood change in him.
I take in this gorgeous man sitting in front of me. He's broken. Everything pouring out of him right now tells me that. As I watch him, I realise something. I’ve had one relationship that lasted a couple of years and I thought I knew what love was, but now I know I didn’t. Because although I’m still falling in love with Luke, what I feel for him already is more than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.
I want to spend my days making him happy.
I want to fill my time laughing with him.
I want to love him so hard that he begins to believe in life again.
But more than anything, I want to take those broken pieces and bandage him back together.
I want to swathe his wounds with love.
Squeezing his hand, I say softly. “You can’t wipe your past from your life, Luke. Good or bad, it’s gotten you to this point, and your future wouldn’t be what it could without everything that’s already happened.”
His eyes dip to look at our hands. He stares at them for a long silent minute before slowly lifting his gaze back to mine. When he speaks, his voice is as hard as his eyes. “I don’t see it that way. My life has been shredded, and I’m just the fucked-over guy who has to pick through the remnants and figure out which bits to keep and which to toss. And I can tell you now, there are a lot of bits I want nothing more to do with.”
His pain pollutes the air and snakes along my skin causing me to shiver. Life isn’t always fair, but this feels like a gross injustice. I’m lost for words, because what do you say to a man who thought he had it all only to discover his life was just a wreckage waiting to happen?
Luke ends up filling the silence when he says, “I’ve gotta head out for a few hours this morning. Thank you for looking after Sean last night. He didn’t stop talking about you this morning.”
It’s clear that he’s ready for me to leave, and while it hurts that I feel like I’m being dismissed, I try hard to remember everything he’s said to me up until this point. He’s made it more than clear he’s in this—it just might take us a little while to wade through the debris in his way.
13
Luke
“You took your time to come back,” Jolene says. Her tone is full of accusation that I ignore.
My lips press together. “I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy for your wife?” Her eyes glitter with anger. And resentment. Always that. Jolene and I exist in an acid bubble of resentment, anger and misery.
“Can we just move past this? I’m here now.”
Her eyes bore into mine, and I try to imagine the thoughts filling her mind. I’ve spent hour upon hour trying to figure out the workings of her mind over the last two years. Hell, even before that, when our marriage spiralled into a whirlpool of arguments and accusations, I spent hours trying to work her out. What I’ve decided is that I will never come close to understanding my wife. The other thing I decided? Marriage is for fools. Handing your life over to someone else and giving them permission to fuck with everything you value is something only those who are crazy in love would ever do. The rest of us know better. I’ll never do it again.
She leans forward and places her arms on the metal table between us. Her face is just as pallid as it was the last time I was here, and she still appears ill. Ice slithers down my spine when I realise just how much I don’t care. Am I really as cold as I feel? “Exactly why are you here, Luke? Do you actually want this marriage?”
“Why the fuck else would I be here?” I snap.
Careful.
You need this.
We sit in silence.
She stares.
I try not to glare.
I clench my fists by my side and remind myself of everything I’m working for here.
I end up breaking the silence. And faking the shit out of this visit. “I’m sorry…” I reach for her hand and do my best not to flinch when our skin meets. “I’m tired, and I’m a bastard. I love you, and I need you out of here just as much as you need to get out.” The words taste dirty even as I think them, let alone speak them.
Her breathing picks up, and then tears fall down her face. Within a minute, she’s sobbing. All I can do is hold her hand and watch in fascination as my wife gives me an Academy Awards-worthy performance. Because it sure as hell isn’t real.
She spends a good five minut
es turning on the waterworks. Finally, she gets herself together enough to talk. “I love you, Luke. I feel so alone in here, and I spend my time wondering where we are at and what you’re thinking.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I think I’m actually going crazy.” Another sob tears through her, and she gasps for breath. “I just want to come home.”
If I were a Hollywood producer, I’d hire her right fucking now. My mind begins cataloguing the last six years that I’ve known her. What was real? What parts of my life can I look back on and know were honest?
I let her hand go. I can’t take one more second of touching her. “Right, so we need to sort through the information the investigator needs. He thinks he’s close to a breakthrough, sweetheart.” Bile threatens as I let that endearment pass through my lips. But I’m closer than I’ve been in a long time. I just need to push myself a little harder.
She takes a deep breath and nods. “What does he need?”
“Did you have a chance to think about those things I asked you the other day?”
Nodding, she says, “I think I was with Alanis the Monday before Mum died. It’s hard to remember that far back, but pretty much every Monday we spent together shopping.”
Her best friend.
The friend who uncovered the truth.
The woman I owe so much to for putting an end to the lies.
“And do you remember if you took the car to that carwash?”
“No, never. The only car wash I’ve ever used is the one you and I went to together. But I still don’t understand why he thinks this information is relevant.”
I want to sag with relief that she finally gave me this information. However, I hold myself together. “I don’t know, but he made it clear it was important.”
She frowns. “Is that all he wants to know? It doesn’t seem right that he’s only asking those questions.”
My carefully held together patience frays. “I told you, I don’t know,” I snap.
Jolene recoils and I swear silently. I need to keep her onside in case the detective demands more information. Raking my fingers through my hair, I mutter, “Sorry.”
She doesn’t respond, but the expression on her face settles back into acceptance.
We sit in another few minutes of tortured silence. The minutes drag by, and I feel like I’ve been sitting here for hours rather than the short time I have been.
Finally, she cuts through the quiet. “We can get us back on track, right?”
I swallow down my distaste. “Yes.”
“I know it will take time, but I’ll be different.” She’s talking as if it’s a given she’s leaving this place.
So many words sit on the tip of my tongue as I think back to the marriage we lived through. I don’t dare speak them, though. I doubt I will ever say them to her because the minute I can give up this charade is the minute I’m wiping Jolene completely from my life. I don’t care that she’s the mother of my child; I’ll do everything in my power to stop her poison from touching him.
I sit through another twenty minutes of hell before I finally tell her I have to get back to Sean. It’s not until I’m sitting in my car that I realise she didn’t once ask about her son.
Two hours later, I knock on Callie’s front door and lean against the doorjamb. My gut swirls with apprehension. I was a bastard to her this morning, and I need to make it right between us.
The door flings open, and I’m met with a gust of Taylor Swift and Callie dressed in yoga pants and a tight, flimsy T-shirt. She lifts her face to mine with a smile. “Luke.”
I take a deep breath. I’ve been mentally preparing myself for this over the last two hours. I’m sure I’ll never be able to prepare myself enough to revisit the past, but I know Callie, and she’ll push until she gets what she wants. “All I ever wanted in life was to be an architect and to build the family I never had. I thought I had both, and now I have neither. And as much as my wife lied to me the whole time we were together, I lied to myself just as much about our marriage. Sometimes, the past isn’t worth going back over, Callie, but if it’s what you need, I’ll give it to you.”
“I don’t need it all at once, Luke. We can do this at your pace.”
“If we do that you’ll never get anything.”
She sucks her bottom lip in and bites it. “Let me turn Taylor off and we can talk,” she says as she steps aside for me to enter.
I follow her into the lounge room and wait for her to switch the music off. Once we’re in silence, she sits on the couch, and I join her.
Smiling, she asks, “Why did you want to be an architect?”
“Some of my favourite memories growing up are of when Tyler and I had this one particular nanny. She had this love of bridges. I was about nine, and I remember her taking us to different bridges and her pointing out the things she loved about them. She also loved architecture, and we spent hours looking at books of different buildings. She’s the reason.”
“I love that. I wish I’d had someone like that in my life—someone who introduced me to things.”
I frown. “Your parents didn’t?”
“No, Dad was always working, and Mum tended to give her attention to my sister more than me. It’s why I turned to writing. I discovered I could make up my own world and give my characters the happiness I wanted in my own life.” She pauses and then with a cheeky grin, adds, “That, and I could also hurt the ones I wanted.”
“So, you used words to channel your pain,” I murmur.
She nods. “Yeah. I still do.”
“I understand that because I escaped into a world of design to deal with mine. The hours I spend drawing help me forget all the bullshit.”
“Do you do much these days?”
“Not really. I don’t have a lot of spare time between the bar and Sean. I landscaped the backyard, and I’m in the middle of designing a granny flat for a friend, but other than that, I haven’t worked on any other project since I left work.”
She cocks her head. “Do you think you’ll ever go back to that work? I realise the bar might hamper that, but it sounds like you really love designing.”
“I will one day. I’m planning on that, but it feels like there’s a lot of hurdles in my life I need to clear before that can happen.” I lean close to her so I can move a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you how your first day at the new job went.”
“It was okay. I think I may get a little bored with it, to be honest. They’ve got me covering local events and social stuff. Ugh.”
“Can you work your way into what you really want to do?”
She shrugs. “Maybe. But for now, this is money, right?”
“Absolutely.”
Guilt rears its ugly head as I sit with Callie discussing our lives. Keeping the truth from her of what’s currently happening with Jolene is eating into me. I almost tell her twice during the conversation, but in the end, I continue to keep it from her. All I can hope is she never finds out that I wasn’t completely honest with her. In my experience, women hold that shit against you, even if you’ve done it to protect them. And that never leads to a good place.
“Barry, I need to know what’s happening with the cops. Have you found anything yet?”
My lawyer has been evasive over the last few days every time I call him to ask this question. Today, however, he gives me some hope. “I’m in discussions with the detective, Luke. He’s assuring me that if you give him the information he wants, he’ll drop your involvement. Did you manage to get anything out of her today?”
Barry and I decided that I’d deal with the detective through him going forward. I give him what Jolene told me today.
“Good. I’ll take this to him today.”
“You’ll let me know as soon as you do?”
“I will. And Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“Try and relax. This will be over soon.”
“Easier said than done, Barry.” Not when your whole life hangs on this.
/> 14
Callie
Me: What are you doing?
Luke: Zoning out in front of the TV. Sean’s asleep. How’s work?
Me: Ugh. Please send vodka. This is not how Monday mornings are supposed to go.
Luke: I could make it all better tonight.
Me: Go away.
Luke: Seriously, come over for dinner. My food will make you smile again.
Me: So long as food isn’t code for a body part of yours.
Luke: Do you want it to be?
Me: You’re killing me here, dude.
Luke: Come over tonight. Let me kill you a little more. I promise to wear one of those cottony shirts you love.
Me: Gah! Go away, I have to work.
Luke: See you tonight.
* * *
I shove my phone away with a groan. This whole “doing the right thing” is really beginning to suck. And it has only been two weeks. Why do I have to have the beliefs I have? Why can’t I be one of those women who can sleep with a married man and not blink twice?
“Callie, are you good to cover that mother’s charity lunch on Thursday?”
I look up to find my boss peering down at me expectantly. “Definitely. I’ve got it in my diary,” I say with a sweet smile. Shoot me now.
“Great. I have some more functions I want you to cover. I’ll email them through later today. How are you going with the weekend’s events?”
“I’ll have them to you on time.”
He grins. “I knew we hired the right person when we hired you.”
With that, he leaves me alone to die a slow, unhappy death filled with society events.
But at least I have a job, and for that, I’m eternally grateful.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you’d kill me with a cottony shirt, were you?” I ask Luke after he opens his front door to me that night.
He watches me intently. “I’m a pretty serious guy, so when I tell you something, you can be guaranteed I mean it.”