“Yes.” Toby folded his hands in front of him. I looked away and tried not to cry. “He’s hurting too,” he whispered finally.
“Good,” I replied, my tears falling at last. It sounded spiteful, but it wasn’t. I simply felt that if a couple who loved as hard as Nate and I didn’t hurt when it ended, it wouldn’t be fair. I wiped at my face and sniffed. “What are you going to do now?”
“Get some petrol for the ute you abandoned, then drive it back home.”
“Not right now,” I explained. “For your future. Are you going to stay, or are you going to chase your dreams?”
He pressed his lips together and shrugged. “I don’t know, Holland. I’ve spent my lifetime taking orders. Maybe I don’t know how to be my own boss.” I stared a moment into his kind and weary eyes. I could see the struggle in them.
“I’m sorry, Toby,” I said, placing my hand over his. “That day at the wedding, I shouldn’t have insulted you the way I did.”
“It was all true. You’re a far braver woman than I am a man. You took off when you were given the chance. Me, I just keep staying.”
“It wasn’t brave, Toby. I ran scared. It would’ve been brave to stay, to love purely despite the danger. At the end of the day, I chose myself over Nate.”
“I don’t think he sees it that way.”
“That’s because he told me to run. He chose me over himself.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Blanche and Stella
“I told you those good-looking ones weren’t to be trusted,” Aunt Maya said as I walked through the grocery aisle with her. I couldn’t face going back to the apartment when my relationship with Nate was basically all over it, so I went to stay with her instead. “They sweep you off your feet and then break your heart, and you’re never quite the same again.” She paused at the end of the pet food aisle. “What do you think about getting a cat? I wouldn’t mind having a little friend to come home to at the end of work. I like that one.” She pointed to a can with a fluffy white cat on it.
“Why not get a cat each?” I said, figuring that I may as well get started on my lonely life cliché. I certainly wasn’t planning on ever finding another man.
“Now there’s an idea. We could call them Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Or Hop and Scotch. Oh, I know, Chess and Shire so that together they’re Cheshire cats. How clever.” She beamed and dropped two cans of food for our non-existent pets into the trolley.
“Sure, Aunty. Those are fine names.” My voice was void of emotion.
“I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously.”
“Sure I am. Two cats. Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”
“No, Chess and Shire. Although, now that I’m saying it again, I’m not sure I like those. Should we stick with the Alice in Wonderland references or go with something else?”
“I don’t mind, Aunty.”
She stopped pushing the trolley and looked at me sternly, studying me for so long that I almost started to cry. It felt like she was reading my emotions. She knew me so well that she probably could.
“Why don’t you call him?” she said after a while. “Surely the two of you can work this out?”
“We can’t.” I shook my head.
“Did he cheat on you?”
“No. He’d never.”
“Then what is so unforgivable that you can’t work it out? I wish you’d tell me.”
“We just can’t work, OK?”
“All right,” she said, adding a few more cans of cat food to the trolley. “But when we get the cats, I don’t want you calling it something ridiculous like Fluffy or Mittens just because you’re too depressed to be creative.”
“We can call them Blanche and Stella.”
She smiled. “I like that. We’ll make sure we get sisters and keep them away from any tomcats named Stan.”
“Perfect.”
I picked a stray cat hair off my sleeve as I gestured for my students to gather around me. With only one week left until the Christmas break, it was finally time for the end-of-year performance. This was the final stage of the fundraising fair that had been taking place on the school grounds all day. I was trying to focus on the girls, but I did have a little voice in the back of my mind wondering if they were going to do it—were Nate and his brothers going to steal the proceeds for their own pockets?
I didn’t know if I could forgive them if they did. Not that it mattered—I was already out. I hadn’t had contact with any of them in over two months. That included Alesha. She was one of them now. I'd lost my love and my best friend to the Cartwright way of life. Doing the right thing had never felt so bad.
“Ladies, if I can have your attention please,” I said as we stood behind the curtain ready for our performance of A Streetcar Named Desire. It would be the one and only show, and after the work the girls had put in on not only learning their lines, but also on the props and costumes, I knew the whole thing would go off without a hitch.
They crowded around me, their various character guises donned and ready to show the audience.
“I just want to take a moment to tell you all how unbelievably proud I am. You’ve worked so diligently on transforming yourselves into your characters and supporting each other in your roles. I honestly couldn’t be prouder. So when you go out there tonight, I want you to take that knowledge with you, and know that at the end of it, I’m taking you all out for pizza to celebrate what I know will be a fantastic show.”
Their excitement and nerves bubbled with the positive comments. There wasn’t a Debbie Downer in the whole bunch. These girls were ready.
“OK, places everyone, and don’t forget to break a leg. Metaphorically, of course.” I smiled and moved to the side of the stage while they all scattered and got ready. We had our music students at the side of the stage, ready to provide the soundtrack, and the auditorium was packed with family, friends and faculty.
I gave the thumbs up to our head of music, and she readied her students to play. We were using a simplified version of the score that accompanied the 1951 film, and soon the drama of that classic main theme filled the auditorium as the lights dimmed. I held my breath and clasped my hands beneath my chin, taking it all in.
Besides Blanche’s pearls getting hooked on the back of a chair and scattering about the stage, the performance was perfect, the music fantastic, and the audience appreciative. For the first time in the months since I’d run away from my life with Nate, I had a genuine smile on my face. I felt like me again.
“Thank you all so much for coming,” I said as I took the microphone at the end of the performance. “The students worked incredibly hard to make this performance the work of art that it was. I’d like you all to give a big hand to our stars. Emily MacNamara as Blanche DuBois! Rachael Emerson as Stella Kowalski!” I went through our actors one by one, handing them all a small bouquet of flowers as they took their bow to an uproarious applause. At the very end, they presented me with a bunch of flowers I hadn’t known I was getting, and I shed more than a couple of tears from the gesture as I hugged them all for being so thoughtful. Then I pulled the music director onto the stage and made the school orchestra and stage crew all stand up and take a bow as well.
“And let’s not forget our sound and lighting crew in the back of the room.”
It was when the spotlight turned their way that I saw him. Up the back of the auditorium, smiling and clapping along with everyone else. Nate.
He looked… proud of me.
My heart caught in my throat, and if I hadn’t been crying already, I would’ve started. He was there. And oh God, he was even more beautiful than my memory was giving him credit for. I wanted to call out to him, to run through the audience and fling my arms around his neck. But what would be the point? He was still doing what he was doing, and I was still against it.
When it was all over, I stepped back with everyone else before the curtain closed. We held hands and bowed, and I kept my eyes locked on Nate’s until the heavy fabric of th
e curtain cut us off from each other. My heart sank at the separation, hitting the bottom of my belly with a thud. He wasn’t there to watch and be proud of me. He wasn’t silently supporting me. He was there to steal the takings. I felt sickness and longing all in one moment, and I wished I could go home and curl up on the sofa with my cat. But I had girls I’d promised pizza to.
“Who’s ready to go out and celebrate?” I asked, putting on a fake smile and steeling myself for the inevitable phone call the following day, telling me that the money was gone.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I Know It
Struggling to find the motivation to get ready for work, I was still in my dressing gown when a knock sounded on the door at seven the next morning. Aunt Maya was waving about a laser pointer that projected tiny green paws on the wall, and our kittens, Stella and Blanche, were jumping all over it.
“Get that, will you, sweetheart?” Aunt Maya said, not even budging from where she chuckled at the cats.
Setting down the kettle I was in the middle of filling, I tightened the sash around my waist and headed for the front door. The moment I saw the shadows through the stained-glass panels I knew it was the police. Oh no.
“One moment,” I called out, pausing at the hall stand and studying my expression in the mirror. I practised my shocked face for the moment they told me the money was gone. I tried one with wide eyes and an open mouth and decided that looked too contrived. Then I went with wide eyes only, which seemed to work a lot better. I practised a few more times, making sure I was ready to perform on cue. Then I whispered a couple of responses.
“That’s horrible. Who would do such a thing? We needed that money to upgrade the sound system in the auditorium.” God, I really was a terrible actor.
“We’re looking for a Mrs Holland Cartwright,” the police called out, knocking again.
“I’m coming.” Gulping, I met my eyes in the mirror and took a breath. “Showtime,” I whispered.
“Mrs Cartwright?” The officer took his hat off his head and held it against his chest when I opened the door.
“Yes,” I responded, a little off balance by the action coupled with a very sombre-looking expression on the female officer’s face who accompanied him. It was terrible that the money was taken from the school, but surely they didn’t feel that horrible about delivering the news. And how did they know already? No one would even be in the office until eight. “Has something happened?”
The male officer gulped and looked at the female officer, who stepped forwards. “Is it possible to come inside, Mrs Cartwright? Somewhere we can sit, perhaps?”
“Sit? Why?” What’s going on? This isn’t want I was expecting.
I moved to let them inside, gesturing for them to sit in the lounge.
“Who was it?” Aunt Maya called out.
“It’s the police, Aunty.”
She arrived in less than a beat of my rapid heart. “Has something happened?”
“We were hoping we could sit down.”
“Who died?” she blurted. “You don’t ask to sit like this unless it’s bad.” Her eyes were wide. She’d been through this before, the night my parents died. Oh God.
“If we could please just sit down,” the female officer responded.
Both Aunt Maya and I sat with straight backs as we stared at the officers. I didn’t even want to think about what they were about to say to me. Who could they possibly be coming to tell me about? The only family I had was in the house right beside me.
There was only one other person who would earn me an official visit.
Nate.
No. no. no. no. no. no.
My entire body trembled as I grabbed Aunt Maya’s hand and squeezed. Tears fell silently. I quit breathing.
“We’re sorry to report, Mrs Cartwright, but your husband has been in an accident.”
My breath burned in my lungs and escaped in a pained gasp. I clapped my hand over my mouth and shook my head. No.
“What happened?” Aunt Maya asked, wrapping her arm around my shoulders as I held her hand for dear life.
“A bushfire broke out along the coast yesterday afternoon. It got out of control very fast, and it seems that his car got caught in its path with Mr Cartwright inside. We’re so very sorry, ma’am.”
Oh God. Nate. My beautiful Nate.
Wait. What did they say?
“Yesterday afternoon?” I asked, struggling to see through my tears.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And he… he died?”
The male officer nodded. “I'm sorry.”
“But….” I frowned and shook my head. “Are they sure it was him?”
“The coroner confirmed it a short while ago. We came to inform you as soon as possible.”
“But I—” I stopped myself from saying any more. What’s going on? I saw Nate last night with my own eyes. He was there, I know it.
“We’re so very sorry, Mrs Cartwright.”
After going over a few formal details, we walked the officers to the door and watched them go, standing silently until they drove away.
“I’m so sorry, pet,” Aunt Maya said, rubbing her hand up and down my back.
Pushing the front door shut, I shook my head. “He’s not dead.”
She gave me this pitiful look that told me she thought I was in denial.
“You don’t get it. I saw him. Last night at the performance.”
Her look didn’t really change much.
“Did you speak to him?” she asked.
“No. I saw him in the back of the audience. He was smiling and clapping with everyone else. I saw him.”
“Oh, honey,” she said, gently stroking the side of my face. “When your mother died, I swore I saw her sitting beside me on the couch. But it wasn’t her, it was just a random dream I had while waiting for them to come back from dinner.”
“This wasn’t a dream, Aunty. I was awake, standing on stage.” Why doesn’t she believe me?
“Some people think it’s their way of saying goodbye to the people who are most important to them—their way of letting you know they’re OK.”
“No.” I pulled away from her. “No. I saw him. He isn’t dead. They’re wrong.”
“Where are you going, Holland?”
“I’m going to check for myself.” I grabbed my bag and keys, then shoved my feet into a pair of shoes. I was going to drive out to Torquay and demand answers. This wasn’t happening. I saw him.
“Maybe you should get dressed first.”
I looked down at the robe I was still wearing. Feeling too panicked, I shook my head. “I don’t have time,” I ground out, marching for the door. “He’s not gone! I’d feel it if he were gone. I’d feel it right here.” I jammed my finger into my chest, then threw the door open.
I saw Aunt Maya’s expression change, but I didn’t register what it meant until I slammed into a massive wall of muscle in my haste to leave.
Two big beautiful hands caught me. “Duchess.”
“Oh thank God.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Pinch Me
My bones disintegrated and refused to hold me upright anymore. Tears streamed down my face and I clawed at his shirt, babbling incoherently, “They said. They said you were…. I knew it wasn’t true. I saw you. Last night. I knew they were wrong.”
“God, I missed you.” He smiled that smile that warmed my heart, and then his mouth came down on mine, kissing the life back inside me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held tight, wanting to crawl inside him and curl up into a little ball as long as it meant we wouldn’t have to part again.
The moment he released me, I pulled my hand back and slapped his face.
“Holy fuck,” he muttered, his hand covering the blooming on his cheek.
“That’s for scaring the life out of me,” I yelled, and then I fell against his chest, crying into it, so incredibly relieved that he was standing in front of me alive and well. I was barely coping living without him
when I knew he was only a couple of hours away.
His arms wrapped around me like comfortable dream. “I’m sorry, duchess,” he whispered. “It was the only way I could do it.”
“Do what?” I pulled back so I could see his face.
With gentle fingers, he brushed the tears from my cheeks. “Get out.”
My heart jumped into my throat. “Out? As in out out? For good?”
He nodded. “But we have to go, duchess. We have to start again. That’s what you wanted, right?”
It was exactly what I wanted. But I’d never expected it, never dreamed he’d actually make it happen. I stood there with my mouth open, unsure of how to respond.
“You do still want this, right? You still want me?” The fear in his eyes almost broke my heart.
“Of course,” I answered quickly. “But go? Now?”
“Right now. Grab anything you can as fast as you can. Can you do that for me?”
“Wait. We’re leaving? You’re giving up your entire life for me?” I couldn’t wrap my head around it. He’d made it sound impossible to escape.
He placed his hands on either side of my face and kissed me before looking deep into my eyes. “No, duchess, I gave up my life the day I let you walk away. Doing this, it’s giving me my life back. It’s giving me you. As long as you still want me.” His eyes grew serious as he studied my expression.
Mine were wide as saucers. I couldn’t believe it. Nate had faked his death and given up everything just so he could be with me. If that wasn’t a declaration of love in the highest order, then I didn’t know what was.
“I want you,” I gasped, my eyes brimming with tears.
“My God, girl! Go get your things!” Aunt Maya interrupted. “You can ask questions later. Can’t you see the man is in a hurry?”
“Yes, but….” I looked back to Nate. “Are you sure about this?”
Fool Me Twice_a Cartwright Brother Romance Page 24