Six Naughty Nights: Love in Reverse, Book 2 (41 page)

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 kissed 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.”

Esther opened her eyes and sighed. She’d been having a lovely dream. She’d been lying on a desert island somewhere in the Pacific, the ocean lapping at the sand while seagulls cried overhead. The sun had warmed her skin, and she’d even been able to taste the salt in the air.

Toby had been leaning over her, trailing a finger along her arm. She could still see his smile, and the way the sun had highlighted the coppery tones in his hair. If she closed her eyes, she could even feel his gentle touch…

She opened her eyes again. Charlie was drawing on her arm with a ballpoint pen.

“Charlie!” She sat up, exasperated. Uneven blue lines covered the slowly fading tan.

Her son stuck out his bottom lip. “You were snoring,” he repeated. “I wanted you to wake up.”
 

“You could have just said, ‘Wake up, Mummy’.” She sighed and picked him up, taking the pen out of his hand. “Come on, let’s get something to eat, shall we?” Food invariably distracted him.
 

He’d needed a lot of distracting lately.

She took him into the kitchen, sat him on the work surface and opened the pantry.

She brought out a box. “Want some cereal?”

“Plizz.”

She gave him the box while she retrieved a bowl and the carton of the milk from the fridge. When she turned back to him, he was examining the photograph on the back of the box. “Dan Carter!” he said triumphantly.

“Yes, it is,” she said, a lump in her throat.

“Daddy’s superhero,” Charlie said.

“Yes.” She bent forward and kissed his head, her lips lingering on his curls.
 

When they’d first left, Charlie had surprised her by not mentioning Toby at all. He’d not spoken about him on the plane back to Christchurch, nor at all during the first few days in their old city. That had made her both sad and thankful. He’d obviously picked up on her distress and knew better than to question when they were going to see Toby again.

Since then, he’d mentioned him a couple of times in passing, but she hadn’t had any of the expected “Where’s Daddy?” questions she’d expected to have to field.
 

Now, however, he studied her thoughtfully. “Daddy smelled nice,” he said unexpectedly.

Her lips curved. “Yes, he did.”

“Why?”

“Because he used nice aftershave.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s like perfume a man puts on after he shaves his face.”

“Daddy shaves his face?”

“Yes,” she said, thinking about the way his bristles had given her a rash all over her breasts.

“Why?”

“Because men have hair on their face.”

Charlie crunched a piece of cereal as he thought about that fascinating fact. “Will Charlie have hair on his face when he growed up?”

She heaved a sigh. It had been nice for a few days for Charlie to be able to ask Toby these sorts of questions. She’d thought she could be everything to her baby boy, but she was beginning to realise he needed more than just answers to his questions. He needed a role model—he needed to see with his own eyes the way other men behaved and acted.
 

He needed his father.

Too bad she’d ruined that for him.

She opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment there was a knock at the door. She lifted Charlie down, and they walked over together to answer it.

A courier delivery person stood there, a huge box at his feet. “Ms. Tyler?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes.” She stared at the box. “What’s this? I haven’t ordered anything.”

He checked his notes. “It’s definitely for you. From the Bay of Islands?”

She felt as if he’d punched her in the ribs. “Oh. Yes. Thank you.” He held out the form and she signed it, then stood back so he could lift the box into her apartment.

“What is it?” Charlie asked.
 

She closed the door and dragged the box into the living room. It was heavy. “I’ve no idea, sweetie.” She grabbed a pair of scissors and ran the blade across the tape. The box was full of polystyrene pieces, and the package in the middle was wrapped securely in bubble wrap.

She lay the box on its side and drew the package out carefully, not caring that the floor was soon covered in polystyrene beans that had Charlie squealing with joy as he threw them up in the air like snowflakes.