Page 16 of Chasing Blue
I don’t want to think about any of that right now. I have my moments. Every morning when I wake up, I have those few seconds where it’snotwith me, then it hits, my heart skips a few beats and my belly flips, I allow myself those moments, and then I get on with my day.
“Drive safe.” Jack taps the roof of my car when I fail to respond, he closes my door, and I pull away without a word or another glance.
When I reach the esplanade, I pull over. With my throat aching from unshed tears, and my car facing the beach, I lose my shit.
I cry so hard that I can hardly breathe through the sobs. When I feel a little calmer, I text Zoe and tell her I won’t be back in today. I lied when I told Jack I had other clients to meet with. I have plenty of work I should be doing, but no meetings. Zoe calls me almost instantly, but I let the call go to voicemail.
I sit and stare out at the water. It’s usually much quieter bayside, it looks like glass some days, unlike the crashing waves of the back beaches, but today, with the wind and the rain, it’s a lot choppier.
Drawing in a deep breath, I decide to get home before I allow the memories of what happened eighteen years ago to surface. I want to be in the comfort of my own home while I decide what I’m going to do about the reappearance of Jack Cole in my life, and I’m definitely going to need wine . . . or gin, maybe both.
Putting my car in reverse, I turn the wheel, pull back out onto the esplanade, and drive home, my heart and soul feeling as battered as the shoreline.
* * *
Staringinto the artificial flame of the fire in my living room later that afternoon, for the nine hundred and seventy-eighth time, I run through this morning’s encounter with Jack Motherfucking Cole. I absolutely hate that it didn’t play out the way I’d re-enacted the fourteen million times I’d imagined over the years.
I always knew our paths would cross again at some time in my life, but the last place I expected it to happen was down here in Victoria, both of us so far away from home.
I’d looked him up on Facebook a couple of times but had never found anything, and decided for my own mental wellbeing, it was probably better that way. I knew more about the controversy surrounding his older brother, Shannon, than I did about Jack. He’d been a successful MMA fighter until some scandal rocked his career. I’d avoided the headlines, and his reality show, just in case, on the off chance there’d been any kind of mention of Jack.
I swirl the red I’ve been nursing in the glass I’m holding before taking a sip. It’s one of my favourite wines, but today it tastes like shit. I lean forward and place it on the coffee table just as my phone lights up with a call.
I’d silenced it after Zo’s eighth attempt at contacting me. We live on the same floor of the same building, so she’ll no doubt turn up here later, but for now, I need time to process.
I reach for my phone, and in doing so, I disturb Mac, my teacup Frenchie who’d been sleeping by my side. He stands, glares, and circles before flopping back to his back, legs in the air, and continues to sleep like the human he thinks he is.
“Sorry, dude,” I whisper to my dog while seeing Matt’s name on my screen. I ignore the call and wait for the usual text to come through.
Matt:Call me x
“Not today, Matthew,nottoday, not tomorrow, not fucking ever.”
The wine I wasn’t enjoying earlier suddenly appeals to me again. I reach for it and take a gulp as I listen to Toni Braxton begging some unknown motherfucker to unbreak her heart.
“You’ve got no chance, darl,” I tell her, the wine obviously getting to me.
I’d changed into my PJs when I got home earlier. Poured myself a drink, curled up on my sofa under a blanket with Maca, and searched on Spotify for an ‘Old School Love Songs’ playlist.
I’ve wallowed now for a couple of hours, contemplating my next move.
I’m hoping that by giving myself this time, I’ll be able to think straight and come to the right decision regarding Jack. Should we turn down the work? Should I hand him over to Zoe? Should I just get on with the job and say nothing, or should I tell him everything and see what happens?
Extreme’s ‘More Than Words’ is playing when I hear the keypad sound right before I hear Zoe’s accented voice say, “Oh for fuck’s sake, love songs, this is not good.”
Zoe moved to Australia from England when she was about fourteen, but she’s never lost her London accent.
“What the fuck happened?” Is her greeting as she appears in my living room. I swallow down my emotions or at least attempt to, the knot firmly lodged in my throat not making it easy.
I watch as she puts her bag on one of my barstools before toeing off her boots. Moving into my kitchen, she takes a glass from my cupboard and pulls a bottle of white from my fridge, “I’m waiting,” she says while striding towards me.
I remain silent as she shifts Mac out of her way and positions herself at the opposite end of my couch. I watch her wedge the bottle between her legs, unscrew the lid, and then pour wine into her glass before taking a chug. Checking she’s made enough room, she tops up her glass before replacing the lid on the bottle and setting it down on the floor beside her.
She looks at me with a raised eyebrow ‘well,’ expression on her face.
After a moment’s silence, I proceed.
“When you took the booking for the job you sent me to this morning, what name was given?”
