Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Caleigh

 

If he thinks he’s winning me over with flowers, no matter how stunning an arrangement it is—which it really is—and a Disney reference, that boy has another thing coming.

Nice job on referencing my second favourite film, but no. Just no. I am not caving in that easily.

Rhiannon has helped make one thing clear—I still love him. But she also said that I ought to make him earn my forgiveness, and as nice as it is to have flowers delivered, it doesn’t even scratch the surface.

To be honest, I don’t know what it will take for him to earn back my trust. I can’t figure that out. I don’t believe there’s any one thing on its own that will do it. All I do know is that I need to remain strong, not show any outward sign of weakness, not give in to him as easily as my heart wants me to.

With Hardin settling in nicely at school, and the studio getting noticed more thanks to paid advertising and word of mouth, things are beginning to feel a lot more like home right now.

Mum and Dad came to visit, which was nice. I showed them the studio and mum even stayed for a class.

I’ve decided to stop avoiding Brent’s house on the school run. The other way adds ten minutes to our route, and it’s hard enough getting a five-year-old ready and out of the door for eight o’clock as it is. It’s time I did what Rhiannon said and pull up my big girl panties, suck it up like an adult.

Life isn’t all about Brent, even if love is a wonderful thing to have in your life. I have much more important things to focus on, like Hardin, like my new career. It’s so nice to have a stable routine, one where I can be around for Hardin more. Where I can walk him to school and back, be around to help with his homework. It’s nice to work during school hours but have weekends off. During the school holidays, Rhiannon has offered to look after him while I go to Savasana. I said I’d hire a sitter, but she wouldn’t hear a word of it. In her words, she’s a lady of leisure. With Lewis being a tad old-fashioned, he doesn’t want her to have to work while Luna is young. So, she said it makes no difference if she has just Luna or Hardin too, and it would be nice for them to play together.

Maybe one day, when the studio is full to bursting, I might be able to afford to hire help and take some time off during his school holidays so that we can take a little holiday for a week, somewhere nice like Devon or something.

“Mummy, can I go to Billy’s for a sleepover?” Hardin asks as Mrs. Buckle lets him leave.

“Not tonight, darling, not on a school night. But maybe over the weekend, okay baby?”

“Okay, Mummy. Can I just go and tell Billy? He’s waiting for me just there,” he says as he points at a cute little blond boy.

“Okay, honey, but make it quick. We’re making something special for tea tonight.”

He runs off and stops next to Billy. He waves his arms around, a habit he has when he’s talking. He obviously inherited my mannerisms.

We skip along the road home, and Hardin chatters excitedly when he sees Brent outside his house.

“Hey, Brent,” he calls.

“Hey, little man,” Brent calls with a wave. “Hey, Caleigh.”

I offer a small smile and wave as we pass, but then I see a gorgeous woman coming out of his front door. My heart feels as though it might come up out of my mouth. I put my head down and speed up. Hardin questions why we’re going so fast, but I just tug his hand and he walks faster to fall in step with me.

We hang our coats up and Hardin asks for his normal snack. I make it for him, and he sits down in front of the telly to eat. Not something I allow him to do often, but I need a few moments of peace to collect my thoughts.

Who was she? A friend? A neighbour? Something more? If it’s more, then why did he send me the flowers?

Maybe he thought I’d call or text to thank him, and then felt like I’d blanked him. Truth is, I picked up my phone to thank him, but then I couldn’t send the text. I hovered over the button, but when it came to it, I just deleted the words and put my phone away, and gave Hardin a bath to distract myself. Sure, I’d had a chance to text him when Hardin wasn’t here, but I got the flowers just as I got home from work and then had to shower and change ready to collect Hardin. I was too busy, or at least that’s what I tell myself to quiet the nagging thoughts.

Turning my iPod dock on, I find a playlist on YouTube and let it play while I gather the ingredients needed to cook our tea. We’re making courgetti bolognese, a healthier alternative to spaghetti. I even bought a weird new spiralizer thingy to help make the courgette into long strands like spaghetti. I haven’t used it yet, so we’re going to give it a whirl this evening. Even though right now, all I feel like doing is having a bath and going to bed.

“Want to Want Me” by Jason Derulo and Luke Bryan begins to play, and I can’t help but dance around the kitchen, looking oh so elegant in my slippers and apron. This song just makes me happy, and this version in particular makes me smile, probably because Luke admits he can’t hit the notes that Jason does. I like his modesty.

Hardin comes in and puts his plate in the sink before washing the chocolate off his hands.

“Can Brent come for tea, Mummy?” he asks with a smile.

And just like that, my good mood evaporates. An ache in my chest replaces it.

“Not tonight, baby. Another night, maybe,” I reply around the lump in my throat.

“Okay.”

He skips off back to the living room, no doubt to watch more telly. Skipping the end of the song, I try to clamour back some of my good mood.

***

After bathing Hardin and reading him a bedtime story, I change into my pyjamas and head back downstairs. I load the dishwasher, turn it on and make myself a coffee before heading back to the living room to watch a DVD.

I put 10 Things I Hate About You on, one of my all-time favourites—not just because Heath Ledger is a total hottie, but it helps.

When my favourite scene comes on, I can’t help but swoon as Patrick belts out the lyrics to “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” and the marching band starts up on the football field. Totally cheesy, but a win in my book. I always only had eyes for Patrick.

As the film ends, I notice the time and am shocked by how late it is. Guess I’ll have to forego the long hot soak in a bath and opt for a shower instead.

I let my head fall back against the tiles and the hot water wash over me. Closing my eyes, I picture Brent. His smile flickers behind my eyelids and I feel my own lips stretch in response to the image in my mind. How I miss those soft, pink lips, his soft hands with calloused fingertips from playing guitar, his perfect abs, his tight ass …

My eyes fly open, my brain unwilling to picture more of him, lest I just give into my heart and let down my defences. I have to be strong. I’ve come this far without him and I’ll go on further. Won’t I?

What did Rhiannon say? She said to open my mind and my heart to the idea of loving and being loved by Brent. That if we were meant to be, then somehow, we would. She also said something about being “master of your own destiny”—or in my case, should that be mistress? She said that sometimes fate needs a helping hand. I’m not sure whether I believe in fate or making your own destiny, and Rhi was talking at crossed purposes about them both, probably due to the wine.

***

“The class was great, thank you, Caleigh. You know, you’re just what we need around here.”

“Aw, thank you, Ali. You’re too kind.” I take a long gulp from my water bottle.

“No, really. I mean, there’s a group of us who go to a local Weight Watchers together. I’ll certainly be telling them all about it and seeing if I can persuade a few of them to try yoga with you. There used to be a class around here, but the instructor was rather abrasive. So much so, that people stopped coming and she closed up eventually.”

“Well I’m sure we can fit you all in; this is a decent-sized studio after all. Maybe we could even think about doing a special class just for you. As you know, it’s unisex classes at the moment, but if, for example, your Weight Watchers group was all female and a little self-conscious of having males in the class, we could accommodate that.”

I begin to pack away my things, ready to fetch Hardin.

“That’s so thoughtful, Caleigh. And I’m sure my class would thank you for it. We come in all shapes and sizes, and some are more self-conscious than others. I think some of them think that yoga is only for super skinny women, because that’s mostly what they saw passing by the old studio. In fairness, that’s probably why more didn’t join.”

“Well, we come in all shapes and sizes, and there are exercises for all. Nobody should feel too self-conscious to come. Everybody is welcome here, and if the abrasive instructor put them off, then no offence meant, but she shouldn’t be in the business.”

“Well, I heard that she used to be quite sweet and caring, then one day, her partner left her for a younger woman. Rumour is he married her and had kids with her, even though he’d never wanted kids with Karen.”

“Gosh. Well, I think that would make me terribly sad, but I don’t think it’s something you should take out on other people.”

“Oh, I totally agree. Some of her older students stayed with her through it because they knew what Karen was like before, but newer students like me could only hack it for a short time.”

“I don’t blame you, Ali. I think I would have been the same. My instructor before I moved here, she was a lovely woman, had the gentlest nature of anyone I’ve ever known. She helped me heal a little after my husband passed away, but then I didn’t have a class to go to when I moved back to be close to my parents in River’s Edge. That’s one of the reasons I started my own class.”

“I’m so sorry about your husband,” Ali says with a sad look in her eyes.

“Thank you. It’s been a few years now, and I’m in a better place than I was. Largely because I have good people around me.”

My watch beeps, reminding me it’s time to pick Hardin up.

“Sorry, Ali, that’s my warning that it’s time to go and fetch my son from school.”

“Oh, right. Sorry to have kept you.”

“No, no. Honestly, it’s been lovely talking to you.”

“It’s been lovely talking to you too. You know, you seem like you’ll really fit in around here. A nice, warm and welcoming atmosphere with a lovely, compassionate instructor. You’ll do really well.”

“Well, take some of these,” I say as I hand her some flyers, “and just let any of your friends know that we can do an all-female class, and I’m sure we can figure out a discount rate for a large number of you.”

“You’re really too sweet. Thanks, Caleigh. I’ll see you on Friday.”

“It’ll be nice to see a familiar face,” I reply as I walk her to the door. “If the class keeps growing, I’ll have to assign myself a mnemonic to remember everyone’s names.”

Ali giggles as we walk out, and I lock the door. She really is a pleasant woman, someone I could see myself becoming firm friends with.

After fetching Hardin from school, it’s time to do my least favourite kind of shopping—food shopping. If only there was someone to do it all for me. I mean, seriously, I’d rather watch paint dry.

As I’m walking down the aisle, I see a familiar face. At least I think that’s her; I didn’t get the best look the other day. Saw enough to know how beautiful she was though.

“The photo doesn’t do him justice,” the woman says.

“He’s extremely handsome, isn’t he?” says the woman she’s with.

I walk down the aisle and push my trolley into a gap in the row down the middle of the aisle so I can’t be seen. Hardin’s harder to hide, but thankfully he’s busy deciding what to pick for the treat I promised him.

“You’re telling me, honey. I’m married to the man, and I have to keep pinching myself to make sure he’s real.”

The woman she’s with laughs, and I can’t help but feel sucker-punched at the word “married.” When did he get married? Tears sting as I try to bite them back. I don’t want Hardin to see me cry, don’t want to be seen crying in the supermarket either.

I ought to make a run for it, but it’s like my feet are welded to the floor.

“I’m holding out hope that I can get meet and greet tickets next time they’re on tour. I think I’d die of a heart attack if I got to see Whiskey Lullaby in the flesh, an arm’s reach from me.”

I watch as the woman quite literally swoons, and I can’t help but roll my eyes at her. There are two flaws in her thinking. One: Brent is no longer with the band, so she won’t meet him. And two: he’s already married, so it’s not like he’s going to look at her in that way.

“I’ll see if the hubby can have a word with the boys and get you backstage passes, if you leave me your number. And once again, thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“You’d do that for me?” the woman squeals, nearly bursting my eardrums.

“It’s the least I can do. You saved my bacon after all.”

“I only did what anyone would have done.”

“Trust me, there are plenty of people around who wouldn’t,” she replies as she places a hand on the other woman’s arm.

“Honestly, there are some ignorant people in the world, but I believe in paying things forward. Be the good you want to see in the world, that’s what I say.”

Seriously? Could she be any more like a Hallmark greeting card?

“Well, I appreciate your kindness. My hubby will too. I don’t know what we would have done if Jessa couldn’t have the turkey nuggets his best friend helped her cook the other day. She’s been nagging since then to have them every single evening.”

“Well, it sure beats kids wanting nothing more than fast food, honey.”

“Oh, it sure does. I just kind of believe my daughter has been replaced by an alien.”

They both chuckle as my heart plummets to my boots. I think I’m going to throw up. Brent not only got married, but he married a single mum? It didn’t take him long to move on, did it? Are single mums his type? Like an insta-family kind of thing without any of the groundwork? Seems like I got out just in time. Hardin and I aren’t anyone’s insta-family. We’re a package deal, but not for a man who sniffs out single mums a mile off so that he doesn’t actually have to conceive the child and do all the usual stuff like changing nappies, feeding, bathing. Shit. I have to get out of here.

“Mummy, can I choose a magazine instead? I can’t find anything I want,” Hardin says as he runs off towards the magazines––which happen to be right next to the two women––before I can stop him.

“Hardin, wait,” I call after him.

I take a couple of deep breaths and try to swallow around the lump in my throat. I feel sick to the pit of my stomach.

Taking off after him, I see him accidentally bump into Miss Stunning Blonde with Long Legs.

“Sorry, it was an accident. My shoes are slippery on this floor.” He apologises profusely to her.

“Don’t worry, young man,” she says as she looks down at him with a smile. “Are you okay? Did you bump yourself on that shelf?”

He looks at his arm, and that’s when I see it bleeding as he holds it in the air.

“Oh my, let me go and fetch someone with a first aid kit,” the other lady says as she disappears around the corner.

“Hardin, honey. How many times do I need to remind you not to run on this floor in your slippery school shoes, huh baby? Are you okay? Does it hurt?” I abandon my trolley and kneel down beside him.

“Sorry, Mummy,” he cries as he wraps his arms around my neck.

“Woah, careful little man. Let’s get you cleaned up before you get blood all over your mummy.”

She smiles down at me, all pearly white teeth and dimples. Damn, she’s so gorgeous. I don’t blame Brent for making a move. If I swung that way, I would have done too. Probably wouldn’t have married her after two minutes, but hey, that’s his lookout.

“Sorry, Mummy,” Hardin says as he pulls away.

“It’s okay, baby. I can always wash my clothes. But the nice lady is right, we need to get you cleaned up.”

The other lady comes back with a first aider who’s carrying a box.

“Are you the handsome little fella this nice lady was telling me about?” she asks.

“Me, handsome?”

“Oh yes, she definitely means you. She said to look for the most handsome boy in the store. Said he had the brightest smile it could light the whole world.”

Kneeling down next to him, she asks to see his arm and he shows her without fuss.

“Ouch, this looks painful. Were your shoes a bit too slippery?”

“It’s my fault. I ran when Mummy told me not too. She always says my school shoes are too slippery on the tiles.”

“And she’s right, by the looks of things,” she says as she cleans his arm up.

“Am I going to have to go to hospital?” he asks with a pout and a wobbly bottom lip.

The first aider looks up at me with sad eyes.

“I think so, young man. But I’m sure they’ll give you a lollipop if you’re a brave boy. They do that with my Thomas.”

“Do they? I promise I’ll be brave. Where does Thomas go to school? How old is he?”

Ever the chatterbox, even when he’s in pain.

“He goes to Brookhaven Primary. He’s five.”

“FIVE?” He yells loud enough to pierce her eardrum. “I’m five and I go to that school. What’s his last name? Mine’s Flynn.”

“Really? Golly, what a coincidence. Do you know a boy called Thomas Grey?”

“I do. He’s my best friend. He was the first one to be nice to me when I started there.”

“Really? What’s your name? Let me guess. It’s Hardin, right?”

“YES!” he squeals. “How do you know?”

“Well, Thomas came home the day you started school and started chattering about his new friend, Hardin. He’s talked about you every day since, too.”

“He has? I love Thomas, because when this boy wasn’t very nice, he stood up for me. When the boy spilled my juice on the table, Thomas gave me twenty pence to buy a new one.”

“Aw, that’s not very nice is it? Was that boy called Lucas, by any chance?” she asks as she puts a bandage on Hardin’s arm until we can get to hospital.

“He is, yeah.”

“He’s not very nice to a lot of people, or so Thomas tells me.”

“He’s always getting his name put in park.”

“Well, the teachers must know he’s not very nice if that’s the case.”

“What does putting someone’s name in park mean?” Miss Gorgeous with Long Legs asks me.

I briefly explain as best I can. “Oh, there’s this chart on the wall, and all the students’ names are on cards. If you misbehave, you get your name moved down the colour chart or something and being put in park makes you lose your breaktimes.”

“Hey, you’re Caleigh, right?”

“I am. How did you know?”

“Brent talks about you and Hardin all the time. I saw you across the road the other day. I only got a brief glimpse, but a gorgeous woman with pink hair and a son called Hardin—it’s not hard to connect the dots.”

So, he talks about me to his wife? How odd.

“All done here, Mum,” the first aider says as she stands.

“Oh, thank you so much. Sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Anita. Anita Grey.”

“Thank you, Anita.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

She sneakily shows me a lollipop and I nod, allowing her to give it to him.

“Would you like this, for being such a brave boy?” she asks him.

“Can I, Mummy?”

“Of course, baby. You’ve been so brave allowing Anita to clean and bandage you up.”

“Thank you, Anita,” he says as he wraps her in a hug.

“You’re very welcome, Hardin. You’re a very brave little soldier. You’ll have to tell Thomas that you might have a cool little scar.”

“Let me take you to hospital,” Miss Gorgeous with Long Legs offers.

“It’s okay, I have my car here. Thank you though.”

“Please, I insist. Your hands are shaking; you’re in no fit state to drive.”

Are they? I look down at my hands and realise she’s right.

“Let her take you, miss,” Anita says warmly.

“Okay, thank you.”

“I’ll get your shopping packed into bags. Do you have anything frozen? I can take it back home with me and drop it round once you get home if you give me your number.”

“I do have a few frozen bits, but that hardly matters in the circumstances. Plus, I haven’t even paid yet, and I don’t have cash, only my card.”

“That’s no problem. Just give me your number.”

I reel off my mobile number as she types it into her phone.

“It’s Caleigh, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, my brain’s a bit scrambled,” I say as we begin to walk towards the double doors to exit.

“Don’t worry, Caleigh, you have people who can help you, so just let us. All you need to worry about is Hardin.”

“I don’t think it’s a very deep cut, if that helps,” Anita says. “He may get stitches or it may just be glue, but either way, he’s a little warrior so he’ll be fine.”

“Thank you so much for helping, Anita. I remember you from Mrs. Buckle’s class now.”

“Yes, I’ve seen you waiting for Hardin. I didn’t really pay much attention, even though I should have known by your gorgeous hair. I was too focused on this little man.”

She ruffles his hair and he looks up at her with a smile.

“You be good for Mummy now, won’t you, Hardin?”

“I will. I promise.”

“You’re a good boy. No wonder my Thomas likes you.”

We say our goodbyes and get in the car with the woman whose name I still haven’t caught.

As we make our way to the hospital, she tells me her name is Julia and her daughter is a little younger than Hardin, at only three. She’ll be starting nursery this year.

Julia seems nice; it’s no wonder Brent set his sights on her. I really need to get over this shit with him. He’s taken now, and I’m fine alone. Well, maybe not fine yet, but I will be once I shake him from my system.

Julia sits with us as we wait to get Hardin into triage. I try telling her that she should get home, but she says it’s fine because she’s texted her husband and let him know, so he’s taking care of Jessa.

I feel a pang of jealousy as she speaks about Brent. She really is a very nice person though, and I’m just hoping she makes him as happy as he deserves.

I send Rhiannon a text but tell her we’re okay, and she doesn’t need to drop everything and rush over like she wants to. She says it must be weird for me when I tell her I’m with Brent’s new partner. I can’t bring myself to say wife, not right now, anyway. Hardin needs me, and I don’t want to waste time explaining it all to Rhi. I’ll chat with her later when I call her to update her on my brave little soldier.

We get called through to triage by a pretty brunette, and Hardin shows her his war wound.

“Hi, Hardin, my name is Louise. How did you manage to do this?” she asks as she unwraps the bandage and takes away the blood-soaked gauze.

“I hit my arm on a shelf when Mummy was shopping.”

“Oh no, that must have been a very sharp shelf. That’s not good, is it?”

“It was the edge of a magazine shelf. If you hit that, it can come quite sharp,” Julia says.

“Ouch, maybe the supermarket should be told, and they could make changes, so this doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

“I think that’s a good idea you know, Caleigh,” Julia says as she looks at me. “I know his shoes were slippery, but that’s no excuse really. They ought to think of changing to plastic shelving or putting something on the edges of the current shelves.”

“Am I getting stitches?” Hardin asks Louise as she cleans up the blood.

“Well, I think this just requires a little glue. I can get a nurse in cubicles to do that for you.”

“Will it take long to heal? Does he need to take time off school?” I ask.

“Well, the nurse will give you an aftercare leaflet, but try not to get it wet for the first five days, and if it does get wet, pat it dry, don’t rub. He might be best not going to school tomorrow because he’ll be a bit sore and may need some painkillers. He should be okay to go back in a day or so, depending on how sore it is. The last thing we want is for it to get bumped and split back open and then you end up coming back here for it to be glued again.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Right, Hardin, I’ve put a new gauze over it until the nurse calls you through. Mum, if you want to go back into the waiting room, someone will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you, Louise.”

“You’re most welcome.”

We walk back into the waiting room, and a few minutes later, another nurse calls us through. She shows us into the cubicle and Julia holds my hand as Hardin sits up on the bed and allows the nurse to look at his arm.

“You’ve been in the wars, young man,” she says with a warm smile.

“I fell when we were food shopping,” he replies in his ever-chipper way.

Kids are so resilient, and I am thankful for that right now. I can’t say the same for me. I feel sick as I look at the cut and can’t help but blame myself for his fall.

“He’ll be okay, Caleigh,” Julia whispers as she squeezes my hand.

I’m glad she can be so strong, because I feel like a nervous wreck. Hardin’s never had stitches or had a cut glued. He’s never broken a bone, never done anything to end up in hospital. I know it’s almost inevitable, but I feel like the worst mum in the world right now.

“Okay, now Hardin, I’m going to need you to be very still. Can you do that for me?”

“Uh-huh,” he confirms with a vigorous nod.

“Good boy. If you’re brave while I glue this, you can pick a lolly from my jar over there, if it’s okay with your mum.”

“It’s okay, Anita gave me a lollipop when she cleaned my arm up. You can keep the lolly for the next boy or girl who comes in. They need it more than me.”

He really is the sweetest, most thoughtful little boy. His words make me smile.

“Aw, Hardin, that’s such a lovely thing to do. How about I give you a sticker instead?” she asks as she gets the things ready to glue the cut.

He nods his head but sits upright and keeps the rest of his body still.

“Okay, now this might sting a little as I close the cut, Hardin. Do you want to hold Mummy’s hand with the other one?”

Holding out his uninjured arm, he takes my offered hand. I squeeze his hand and smile at him.

“I’ll be brave, Mummy.”

“I know you will; you’re my little soldier.”

He winces a little as the nurse presses the two sides of the cut together for a few seconds, but other than that, he’s braver than I thought he might be.

The nurse gives us an aftercare leaflet, and once we get back into Julia’s car, I read it:

General Advice:

• avoid touching the glue for 24 hours

• try to keep the wound dry for the first 5 days

• showers are preferable to baths to avoid soaking the wound

• use a shower cap if the wound is on the head

• pat the wound dry if it gets wet – don't rub it

 

Things to avoid during the first 5 days:

• don’t stick a plaster on the skin glue

• don’t put creams or lotions on the glue

• don’t wear clothing that could rub against the glue

• don’t pick at the glued area

• don’t brush hair around the glued area

I guess that’s easy enough, except we’ll have to be careful in the shower. The nurse was kind enough to give us a few waterproof dressings; I just hope they work.

Julia pulls up outside my house and gives me the number for Sandra, the lady who was with us earlier. I didn’t even think to get her number to let her know when I’d be home.

“Thank you for everything, Julia. You really didn’t have to help.”

“Oh, my goodness. You’ll have to go and fetch your car first. You don’t want to get clamped on the supermarket carpark.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“Let me take you to get it.”

“Oh, it’ll have to wait. It’s time for Hardin to eat, and he probably has homework.”

“You only get three hours free parking, honey. Don’t worry, let me sort something, hang on.”

She pulls out her phone and taps away.

“Right, that’s sorted,” she says as her phone chimes in response. “Have you still got your seatbelt on, Hardin?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, good boy. Right, let’s get you two sorted out, shall we?”

She pulls back onto the road and when we pull up, I look up at Brent’s house. There’s a knot in my stomach as he comes to the front door and waves.

“Right, Hardin, Brent is going to look after you while I take your mummy to get her car. We’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Cool.”

He claps his hands together in glee as I walk around to unbuckle his belt.

“Bye, Mummy,” he says as he kisses my cheek.

“Bye, baby, be good.”

“Brent,” he shouts as he heads up the steps, “I hurt my arm, but it’s glued back together now.”

“Oh no, buddy. Were you brave at hospital?” he asks as he ruffles his hair.

“Uh-huh. The nurse gave me a sticker, look,” he replies as he shows off his shiny sticker.

“That’s awesome, buddy. What do you say to a nice fruit smoothie? You can come and meet Jessa too.”

“Do you have strawberries?”

“I sure do. Want some in your smoothie?”

“Yes please.”

Hardin bounces on the balls of his feet as I watch from the end of the path.

“Is that okay with Mummy?” Brent asks, looking at me with a warm smile.

“Sure. Are you sure you’ll be okay with him? We can take him instead of imposing.”

“Of course. He’ll be fine here. He can play with Jessa until you girls get back.”

“Thank you, Brent.”

“Bye, Mummy,” Hardin say with a wave as a little blonde-haired girl comes to stand in the open doorway.

“Bye, baby. See you soon. Be good.”

“I promise.”

With a wave, he dashes off with Jessa. Brent chuckles and follows them inside.

I’m not sure it’s good to have him get attached to Brent, given the circumstances. But what’s done is done now.

Julia turns the radio on quietly. A song plays and my breath catches in my throat as I realise it’s Brent.

I did it all for love,

Something I knew nothing of,

Until the day I met you,

And you showed me the way.

But now I’m here without you,

Lost in a sea of despair.

The lyrics are beautiful, but make my heart constrict. Before I can stop them, tears start to fall. I move to wipe them away and Julia notices.

“He wrote it for you, you know?”

My head whips around so fast I’m not sure I haven’t given myself whiplash.

“You didn’t know?” she asks, shock evident on her face.

“I-I’ve n-never heard this song before,” I whisper as more tears fall.

“It’s only available on the iTunes album. Or it will be once that version is released. They’re holding it off until—well, I guess until you’ve had a chance to hear it on the radio.”

“I-I’m n-not sure what you mean.”

We pull up in the car park and Julia turns to me, her eyes soft and full of compassion. She’s a stronger woman than I would be if my husband wrote a song about someone else.

“Honey, it’s not really my place to speak for him, but Brent loves you.”

I see the sun shining on her wedding ring and my heart hurts more than I ever thought possible.

“B-but h-he can’t. He m-married y-you.”

“Married me? Oh, honey, I’m not married to Brent. I’m married to one of his best friends, Evan. What made you think I was with Brent?”

“I-I o-overheard you in the s-store earlier, talking about how handsome he was in the picture in the magazine. Sandra said you were lucky to be married to him, or y-you did, I-I can’t quite remember.”

“Oh, honey, I was talking about Evan Winslow.”

“A-and I-I jumped t-to c-conclusions.”

God, I wish I could stop stuttering, but I feel like I’m stumbling over my words thanks to how hard my heart is beating.

“Brent only has eyes for you, Caleigh.”

Julia takes my hand in hers and softly squeezes it. The radio still plays in the background. As I take a few deep breaths, I feel tears racing down my face.

“What If I Never Get Over You” by Lady Antebellum plays, reminding me how many times I’ve listened to it these last few weeks. I cried every time, because I wondered what would happen if I never got over Brent.

“Don’t cry, sweetie. You can’t cry pretty, as Carrie Underwood would say. And you don’t want to end up with panda eyes.”

I manage a small chuckle at her words.

Julia turns the radio off, probably for fear I won’t stop crying. It feels like a dam has finally burst and now I can’t do anything to stop it as the tears cascade down my face.

She reaches into the glove box and hands me a pack of tissues. I sniffle and thank her as I wipe my cheeks and blow my nose in a rather unladylike way.

“You should talk to him. Or if you can’t talk, at least listen,” she softly urges.

“Did he really write that song about me?”

“He sure did. It was the last thing he did before leaving the band.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s why you should hear him out.”

“I-I—”

“As I said, it’s not my place to speak on his behalf, but I would urge you to hear him out.”

“We haven’t seen each other for a while.”

“Are you scared of what he has to say?”

Her bluntness shocks me but urges me to confess the truth.

“Yes,” I whisper.

Julia squeezes my hand and looks at me with compassion written across her face.

“Oh, Caleigh,” she replies softly. “Honey, there’s nothing to be scared of, unless you don’t feel the same way. But—and please correct me if I’m wrong in my assumption here—it seems like you might. After all, if we’re over someone, we don’t sit and ugly cry, do we?!”

“I-I g-guess not, no.”

I wipe away fresh tears and sigh.

“Can I ask … do you still love him?”

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I dry my eyes and make eye contact, so she knows I’m speaking the truth.

“I really do.”

“Then, darling, you need to go to him. Or, if you can’t or won’t do the running, let him come to you. Be open to communicating with him.”

“I will.”

I mentally pull up my big girl panties.

“Thank you, Julia. Not only for your help today, but for your honesty and helping set me straight.”

“You’re most welcome. Good luck. Although, I don’t think you’ll actually need it.”

I open the door and thank her again before walking to my car, feeling lighter than I have all day, maybe more than I have in weeks.