AllFreeNovel
Share Us
If it was possible to live with a broken heart.
Where was Zac’s lead? She had to get away for half an hour or she’d say something she’d regret for ever. If she already hadn’t.
* * *
Michael cracked eggs into a bowl too hard and had to pick out pieces of shell. That was what listening to Stephanie did—wound him up something terrible.
He picked up the whisk and began beating the eggs. His injured wrist wasn’t very helpful in holding the bowl. Ignoring it, he whisked harder, faster. Gooey egg flicked over his sweatshirt.
Whisk.
The bowl slid sideways. Over the edge of the bench onto the tiles.
He stared down at the yellow goo, the shards of crockery which had been a bowl moments before, and wanted to roar. To shout at the world. To blame someone, something, for the wound in his thigh hurting like stink, for the ache in his sprained wrist, for the mess splattered over his track pants and on his floor.
For the words pinging back and forth in his head.
‘You sure that you’re not hiding behind this responsibility? That there’s not something else keeping you from finding happiness, having the life you want?’
He cursed out loud. No, he wasn’t sure. He knew that if he had his sister and his nephew to keep him busy and involved he could cope with being single and living in this big house alone, because they added noise whenever they dropped by. But that was coping, not enjoying, and definitely not loving someone special.
Patricia had taken him to the cleaners when she’d walked out on him. He hadn’t minded so much when she’d demanded half his money. But he’d hated it that she slept with one of his teammates and that she’d gone to the press, who had been only too eager to hear the ‘inside story’ she’d chose to make up about their marriage.
He’d been broken-hearted that the future he’d hoped would bring him love and a family had dissolved into nothing but recriminations. That he really did have the family divorce gene.
That gooey puddle on the floor wasn’t getting any smaller.
Stephanie wanted all the things he couldn’t give her. Commitment beyond everything. Which meant his wanting a repeat fling with her was unrealistic. He would not deliberately hurt her, and that was the fastest way he knew how to.
So he needed to get on with cleaning up the mess and forget how her body had felt up against his yesterday. Had it been only yesterday that he’d kissed her? Seemed timeless...as though that kiss had brought all the previous ones forward to wreak havoc in his head, make him hungry for future kisses.
After filling the sink with cold water he tried to bend down and scoop up egg with the dishcloth. His leg protested. Spots flickered across his eyes.
Straightening, he pulled a chair close and eased himself down on that. Now he could reach the mess, but he had to stand to rinse the cloth. Just as well he didn’t have to be anywhere in a hurry. Up, down...up down.
Those spots behind his eyes were annoying, but the sooner he was done here the sooner they’d disappear.
* * *
At the park Steph unclipped Zac’s lead to let him run free. He barked and leapt in the air, his tail going in all directions, before chasing after a blackbird that was happily digging for worms under a tree nearby.
Her heart lifted momentarily. Why had the dog sought her out? It wasn’t as though she lived next door to his owner. Not even close to her house.
Which reminded her...
She punched her speed dial. ‘Hi, Dad. How’s things?’
‘Your mum has got me sorting through the shed in the hope I’ll get rid of what she calls rubbish and I think of as treasure. What about you? Settled in with your friend?’
Far from it.
‘It’s all good. We hardly see each other—though that’s about to change now I’m on days off. Can you give me Bill’s number? Or get him to ring me? I want to talk real estate with him.’
‘I’m seeing him at golf this afternoon. I’ll give him your number. What are you thinking?’
Her parents would support her in a move if it eventuated. They’d often said her house was too much for her to look after on her own.
‘That I might look for something low-maintenance. Wouldn’t mind a kitchen and a bathroom that were designed in the last couple of years, not nearly a century ago.’
‘Your oven’s better than a coal range!’
Her dad’s laughter always warmed her, but today it was a struggle. Michael had got to her in ways she hadn’t expected, and it hurt that they’d never get together properly...permanently.
‘Only because I put a new one in before I went away.’
She followed Zac around the park as she talked to her dad. If only she could talk about Michael—but what was the point? There was nothing anyone could do to fix her heart. No one but Michael, and she knew where she stood with him.
Right now her feet were itching to run. Out of town, out of the country, as far from Michael as it was possible to get. As far from the source of pain in her stomach, her head, her heart. So much for the best-laid plans. She really had blown those to shreds.
But she had no intention of taking off for other places. She’d come home for good, and that was where she was staying. A new house, maybe, but not a new location. Another tick on her list? Absolutely. She was getting a few of those now. Only the big one she wanted was evasive.
Bark, bark.
Zac bounded up, skidded to a stop at her feet, causing her to trip around him. ‘Easy, beautiful...’ Then, ‘Dad, I’d better get going. Have a great game. Love you.’
Clipping Zac’s lead onto his collar, she glanced at her watch. Ten o’clock. The day stretched out interminably. Sleep was required, but that meant heading back to Michael’s. At the moment being in the same space as him would crush her, though she was meant to be there for him.
She had to find someone else to take her place—fast. If only she had Chantelle’s phone number she could apply pressure to get his sister to take a couple of days off from university. Waiting until the end of the day seemed impossible—too long and too filled with worry that she wouldn’t be able to convince the woman.
Why hadn’t they swapped numbers? It was usually the first thing she did when she met someone she knew she’d see again. But then nothing had been normal these past couple of days.
What about Max or Jock? Surely one of them could take Michael home for day or two? They’d insisted she have their numbers, and had phoned a couple of times to ask after Michael, only to follow up by giving him hell about being lame.
She’d try them. And a district nurse could call in to change his dressings.
‘No can do, Steph,’ Jock said as soon as she’d put his mind at rest about Michael’s condition. ‘My in-laws are coming to stay today.’
Max wasn’t any more helpful. ‘Love to help, but my parents are coming to stay.’
In-laws and parents all coming to stay on the same day? Jerks. They were forcing her to stay with their mate. As for why—she wasn’t going there. Michael needed new friends.
Back on the road, Steph headed for coffee and a muffin, then hit the supermarket, visited the vet clinic to make an appointment for Zac to be checked over, then spent time in a dress shop trying on and discarding an array of outfits she had no need of.
It wasn’t until Zac began whimpering and looking distressed that she knew she could no longer put off going back to Michael’s house.
The moment she opened the front door a feeling of apprehension slithered down her spine.
‘Michael?’
It was too quiet.
‘Michael?’
He wasn’t answering. He wouldn’t have gone out without leaving her note. He wouldn’t have gone out at all. Would he?
He lay on the floor, half against the cupboards beneath the kitchen sink, looking very sorry for hims
elf. And very angry.
‘Michael—what happened?’ She nudged aside a chair that had tipped over near him. She dropped to her knees beside him, lifted his arm to feel for his pulse.
He pulled his arm free. ‘I’m fine. Just need a hand up.’
‘I’ll tell you whether you’re all right.’ She grabbed his wrist again.
‘I slipped. That’s all. Nothing to get in a flap about.’
‘Says the man who would berate any of his patients who didn’t follow his instructions on how to look after themselves.’
Now it was her turn to get angry.
‘What were you doing?’
There was something sticky on the floor. And bits of the bowl she’d been going to scramble eggs in before she’d flounced out of here.
‘You were scrambling eggs?’
‘I was hungry. Can’t a bloke do anything for himself?’
‘Not when his wrist’s sprained and his thigh has layers of stitches that a knock could damage—let alone what falling to the floor might do.’ She let go his wrist. ‘Your pulse is normal.’
‘That’s good.’ Relief flicked through his gaze.
‘What? Is there something you’re not telling me?’
‘Help me up, will you?’
‘Are you going to faint all over me?’
‘No.’ Michael sighed. ‘I promise. I dropped the bowl of eggs and I was trying to wipe up the resultant mess but it wasn’t working. I couldn’t reach properly. And then I stepped in the egg and my feet went out from under me. That’s all.’
‘That’s more than enough. Are you sure you didn’t faint?’
