Page 15 of Lime Tree Hill

“He left you at the altar? No way!”

“It turns out hewasat the hospital, but not with a patient. His ex-wife went into early labor, and they welcomed a baby boy on the Monday morning. I’d had no idea they were still a couple.”

“Sweetie, no. I’m so sorry.”

A sob caught in her throat. “All the time we were together, he’d been seeing her too. No wonder he was hardly ever home. Not that we lived together. That was our next step.”

“And was it his baby?”

“According to his PA. She’s a chatty little thing. I called her, pretending it was about a patient. She was more than happy to share Hayden’s exciting news.”

“Have you talked to him since?”

Tayla plucked a tissue from her sleeve and wiped her eyes. “Once, a few days after I landed in Auckland. He offered me every excuse under the sun at first. But in the end, he was too exhausted to keep up the pretense. Of course he apologized…said he loved us both, and still wanted to marry me, but the timing wasn’t quite right. Can you believe that? It all came down to timing. If it wasn’t for the baby’s early arrival, we would have been married by now. How scary is that?”

“I’m so sorry you went through that alone. Why didn’t you tell me when you were up here last?”

“I should have. But, you know, Dad was so sick, and I needed time to lick my wounds. As it turns out, I’m packing up our family home, and Hayden’s in Sydney dealing with poop explosions and sleepless nights. Meanwhile, we’d started to meld our lives, so I still have stuff at his place. And I need to sort out my apartment. I should do that this week if I can get a cheap flight.”

“Do you still love him?”

Tayla chewed her bottom lip while she considered her sister’s question. “I’ve been asking myself that very thing since the moment I boarded the plane to come home. You don’t stop loving someone because they’ve done you wrong. You may love parts of their personality…their behavior less, but that final disconnect takes time. In some ways, marrying Mitch will give me that time. I won’t be able to pack up and return to Sydney, knock on his door, and ask him why. I can hide at Lime Tree Hill and take stock.”

Ruby looked at Tayla with concern. “Maybe. But what will you have at the end of it? A ‘divorced virgin’ label to attach to your story. Isn’t it all a bit too drastic?”

“Yeah, I’ve thought about that, but with my history with men, what does it matter? Think of it this way—historically, marriage for purely romantic reasons was never popular. Women married for honor, or necessity, or economic advantage. And my decision to marry Mitch would be purely economic.”

“Yes, but that economic advantage is for Mum and Dad, notyou. You’re lining yourself up to be the sacrificial lamb, and I’m the only one in the family who even knows about it.”

“And that’s the way it has to stay. Mind you, I haven’t seen Mitch for a couple of weeks. So who knows what’s going on in that head of his?”

Ruby picked up their plates and took them to the sink. “You said his lawyer suggested we contact a realtor?”

“He did. I had a look on the net but didn’t know where to start. I hoped Mitch would still settle, so I put it in the ‘too hard’ basket.”

“With interest rates being so low right now, you’d think he’d be able to raise the money. Lime Tree Hill’s a huge operation. He must be loaded and then some.”

Tayla shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t like debt.”

“Maybe. Anyway, do you remember Andrew Harper? We went out for a while in high school. Broke my little heart, then wanted me back a year later.”

Tayla shook her head. “No. Why?”

“He owns Clifton Falls Realty. I’ll give him a call.”

8

BONDI BEACH

Tayla walkedinto her apartment in Bondi Beach and looked around. She’d hesitated before booking the flight, her stomach in knots as the anticipation of returning to Sydney clouded her every thought. Now here she was, back in her cozy home, struggling with a tinge of regret and an unexpected tug of homesickness for Clifton Falls.

She’d leased the apartment furnished, complete with a hammock strung from one balcony support post to the other. Not that the balcony was part of her package. It belonged to the apartment above. Hers was a tiny ground-floor space, three blocks from the beach, with just enough room to park herself and her Vespa.

Tayla opened the windows and listened to the sound of children’s chatter and laughter as they ambled home from school. She recalled her life here: weaving her scooter through the crazy traffic, devouring the local sourdough, and early morning boot camps at the beach. Her home for three years, it had been the first time she’d lived alone, and she’d loved it.

Hayden had a three-bedroom terrace in Paddington. She’d been there many times but had seen no sign of a wife. Apart from hers, not even one feminine toiletry lurked in the bathroom. Shewondered where else he lived in that double life of his. Probably Darling Point, or somewhere equally as fabulous.

She eyed her treasures: small market finds—paperbacks, jars of shells, and candles. Apart from her beloved Vespa, there wasn’t much else to pack, just a few things from the kitchen and her favorite linen sheets. Half a dozen boxes should do it. She’d managed to sublet to the daughter of the couple upstairs for a few months. That should give her enough time to sort out the orchard and remap her journey.

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