The thought of Tony being so bold as to get a room ready for me makes me angry. Is it that obvious that I was going to fail in LA? Did he know my marriage wouldn’t work, or was he hoping it wouldn’t?
My mind is yo-yoing all over the place with Tony. I don’t know whether to be thankful that he has done all this for me or angry that he knew I couldn’t look after myself. I decide on thankful. There’s enough negativity in my life at the moment and having an ex who’s looking out for me is a good thing.
I open my laptop and stare at the screen.
Today there’re thirty-seven unread emails from angry customers.
“WHERE’S MY ORDER,” screams the first subject line in all caps.
I think about the customers on the other end of the line. Customers I’ve nurtured through attending events and holding local workshops. People who trusted me enough to buy my products. And I’ve let them down.
I close the laptop and push away from the desk. I’m not ready to face them yet.
Wandering through to the kitchen, I find a fresh pot of coffee but Tony’s nowhere to be seen. He must have popped out, and I’m grateful he’s given me some space.
I pour a second mug of coffee and take it into the living room.
There’s a giant TV hung on one wall with a comfy corner couch opposite. A coffee table is in front of the couch, but that’s all. It’s sparsely furnished, which was always Tony’s way. He’s a military man through and through.
Some photos hang on the wall, and I walk over to take a look. There’re lots of Amy. When she was a baby, Tony holding her in his military uniform the first time he met her, his smile as wide as the ocean.
There are military photos, the guys from his unit, grim-faced in their uniforms.
I look to the next photo, and my breath hitches in my throat.
It’s our wedding photo.
The wide-eyed kids staring out at me look like different people. I’m in a simple dress I found at the charity shop, and Tony is in his new, and slightly too big for him, military uniform.
I’ve got my hand on my stomach, which protrudes in the tell-tale baby bump. But my eyes are on Tony. We’re gazing at each other with such adoration, the way only teenagers in their first love can look at each other, so sure that this was forever and nothing could ever get in the way of our love.
The week after we married, Tony was deployed. I didn’t see him for another six months. And by the time he came back, we had a daughter.
Th sound of the doorbell pulls me out of my memories.
I don’t know where Tony is, so I tentatively open the door. There’s a bunch of flowers so big they’re taking up the entire doorframe.
“Are you Caroline Leveson?” asks a man from behind the flowers.
“Yes.”
He hands them over and turns away before I have time to protest.
“There must be a mistake…”
But he’s already down the driveway.
The fragrance of lilies fills my senses. They’re my favorite flower, and these ones are large, orange and vibrant pink alongside the pure white.
I take them through to the kitchen and put them on the table, searching for the card.
LA doesn’t know your worth.
Welcome home.
Tony
The heaviness in my chest lifts as I read the message. How does Tony always know the exact words I need to hear? He has this way of picking me up and making me feel like less of a failure.
