Page 41 of Hate You to Love You

I begin to walk through the house, pointing things out to Mum. ‘Remember when you started working late nights, and Dad was forced to cook for me?’ I ask her, standing in the kitchen. ‘He broke the oven and the three of us spent the entire evening arguing about whose fault it was. We stayed up past midnight laughing at him for burning the mac and cheese.’ I point through the open kitchen window. ‘Look at the garden. Dad should be out there, watering those goddamn plants.’

‘Carlos—’

‘No!’ I step away from Mum as she extends her arms out towards me.

I can’t just accept this. Another person in my life willing to let go. Tears fill my eyes, and I can see a quiver in Mum’s face that signals she is about to cry too. I hate upsetting her, but if I support her decision, I’ll be opening myself up to mourn the loss of Dad again. And my heart won’t be able to take being shattered a second time.

‘I’m flying to the UK for the tour on Monday,’ I tell her. ‘I’ll see what I can do about sorting this stuff when I’m back.’

The distance will give us time to cool down. There’s even a chance that it will give my perspective on selling the house time to resonate with her.

‘When do you get back?’ she asks.

‘In three weeks.’

‘You’ll call when you’re back?’

I step backwards into the hallway. ‘I will.’

I storm out of the house, fighting back tears. Mum’s moving on. Dad’s being forgotten. Jones will be in Queensland soon. And Laney has her wedding and her mother to worry about. If everyone I know and love is set on changing, I can do the same. I’ll move forward. I’ll forget.

chapter seventeen

then

It’s been just over a week since my first kiss with Elliot. One week since he officially asked me out, and it’s overwhelming in the best possible way. Although it’s also a little terrifying. Because now this relationship is real.

With his work schedule full of various campaigns, and some of his weekends taken up by accompanying authors to festivals and events, we mainly see each other on weeknights. Evenings that we spend walking the back streets of the Inner West in the moonlight.

We’re meeting at a wine bar called Where’s Nick, a small space along the main strip of eateries in Marrickville. When I arrive, Elliot’s reading a book. He loves carrying one around wherever he goes, squeezing in any possible chance to read. Tonight he’s got a copy of Sunburn set down on the table. A light breeze fills the bar thanks to the large open window that allows a bench full of diners to look out at the street. I’m scanning the chalkboard menu, realising that I know next to nothing about wine and wishing that I could just order a house white. After much deliberation with the waiter, I take a recommendation on an orange wine, while Elliot orders an Aperol spritz.

‘I’m pretty sure the bartender is giving me a death stare,’ he says.

‘I mean, this is a wine bar,’ I point out.

‘A bar is a bar!’ he adds with a laugh.

Even though the rest of our conversation flows naturally, I can feel my body tense up. I put my hands together and hold them close to my body. Something about tonight, the intimate space of the wine bar, is making me nervous. Maybe it’s because everything I know about dating comes from the movies, and this suddenly feels far too real.

I manage to hide my awkwardness through two rounds, but after we finish our drinks, Elliot offers to walk me home. It’s close to midnight as we head down Marrickville Road. The chatter of diners from the bar dies down until the only sound around us is the occasional car driving by. We walk in silence back to The Terrace, where Elliot leans in for a forehead kiss. After parting ways and saying goodnight, I blush. My heart flutters and my entire body feels warm and relaxed. I look up at the moon and smile, grateful that our paths have crossed.

A few days after my date with Elliot, I head over to my parents’ house for Sunday dinner. Ever since moving to The Terrace, I’ve made an effort to visit them at least every couple of weeks for dinner or a movie. Tonight, Dad has made the call with 50 First Dates.

‘Hey Dad, how did you know you and Mum were meant to be?’ I ask, while Drew Barrymore’s character is busy building a waffle house on the TV screen.

‘Is the movie making you philosophical?’ he teases.

I give a half-hearted laugh back. I’ve never struggled telling my parents anything. Perhaps that’s because when I have told them things, they’ve always understood where I’m coming from. Talking with them always feels safe. But admitting that I’m now dating Elliot is different. It’s something real that has changed my life, and there’s no taking it back. So I take a deep breath and say, ‘Elliot asked me out. We’re dating.’

Dad shuffles forward in his armchair. ‘I had a feeling. That’s wonderful!’

‘We’ve been getting to know each other for a while, but it’s a week since we’ve made it official, so it finally feels real enough to tell people.’

‘What made you think you couldn’t tell me us sooner?’

‘You know I’ve never dated anyone before. I didn’t realise how scary it was to put myself out there and let someone in. How do I know if I love someone if I’ve only ever experienced the kind of love that’s in the movies?’

Dad grabs the remote and points it towards the TV. He fast forwards the movie until we reach the final scene, where Drew Barrymore wakes up and watches the video tape Adam Sandler has made to comfort her and help her make sense of her memory loss. ‘Love like the movies happens every day.’