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I PARK MY Mini Cooper in the garage of my parents’ Point Piper mansion and head into the house, my stomach hollow and my muscles clenched, ready for a fight. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen my family, but as I step out onto the terrace, donning my sunglasses against the glare of another fantastic Sydney day, I want to switch off the sun and hide. Not from my family, although gatherings these days are usually fraught with competitive undercurrents and entrenched dysfunctional dynamics I could do without, but from myself. From the decisions I’ve made. The mess. The knowledge that the mistakes I made before are minuscule in comparison to this one—losing Cam.
Holding on to the torrent of emotions inside, I wave to my mother, who’s in the infinity pool with my nephew, and head for the barbecue, where, typically, the males of my family congregate, as if grilling a steak requires testosterone. Before I even arrive I can sense an argument brewing between my brother, Liam, and my father.
I sigh, every bone in my body aching with self-inflicted grief. What am I doing here? I could have made any number of excuses—I have tons of emails to catch up on, six weeks’ worth of laundry to organise...damn, even airing my own long-neglected penthouse would be preferable to this, although I’m mostly here for my mother’s sake. But what I really want to do is lick my wounds while I try to work out if I’ve just sabotaged the best thing that ever happened to me.
My hollow stomach gripes again—ever since I arrived home last night after the gala I’ve wanted to throw up and it gives me a sick sense of satisfaction. I got what I wanted and it hurts like hell. It’s over, the end not neat as I’d hoped, but then when is anything ever neat when matters of the heart are involved?
Something inside my chest lurches.
It’s grief, just grief.
It will pass.
I force my face to conceal everything I’m feeling and greet my brother, accepting his kiss on the cheek. I pour myself a drink and take a tiny sip of the iced water, but even that gets stuck in my throat. I put it down and tune in to the argument to take my mind off Cam and the gaping hole he’s left in my life, although this is the very drama I was dreading.
Cam was right. Why am I putting myself through this? I’m a grown-ass woman, not a dutiful child. And today there’s only room inside my battle-sore body for one fight: staving off tears.
If I weren’t afraid of bursting into those unheard-of tears, I’d join my mother in the pool, because I’m too heartsick to deal with family drama, but perhaps Liam needs my support.
‘Have I interrupted a fight?’ I say, watching my father stab at a steak on the grill
with barbecue tongs.
My brother is uncharacteristically annoyed. ‘More of an ongoing discussion of how badly I’m running the ship,’ says Liam. ‘You know, sis, you did well to bail when you did.’ He stares at the back of my father’s head as if daring him to contradict this in front of me.
I’m shocked speechless. This is the first time I’ve heard of any discontent between my father and his golden boy, not that the fault lies with Liam.
I try to keep the bitterness from erupting, from saying something I’ll regret, but then it hits me.
I really don’t care.
I’m thirty-six. I’ve just lost a man with whom I suspect I’ve fallen in love. I have bigger problems than causing a scene at a family barbecue. Massive problems. Insurmountable problems...
What have I done?
I focus on my brother. ‘Well, I wasn’t given a choice. As I recall, my services were no longer required.’ Sympathy for Liam wells up inside me—so he’s not good enough either, in our father’s eyes. ‘Is this about Jensen’s?’
I have no desire to be the source of tension between these two men, but really, where does my father get off with his expectations and constant criticism? I shouldn’t need to impress this man, and shame, hotter than the November sun, licks at me that I even tried. I’m his daughter. His pride should be automatic. His love unconditional. Like Cam’s...
Cam—the only person whose opinion matters.
The pangs of longing twisting my stomach into knots grow stronger.
Liam’s clearly more pissed than I’ve ever seen him, because he ignores my question and puts down his beer at the nearby table.
‘You know, Dad, Orla bested us because she’s just better. Perhaps you should have thought of that when you were succession planning.’
Liam turns away from our father in disgust and squeezes my shoulder. ‘You look great, sis. It’s been years since I’ve seen you look this relaxed. Whatever you’ve been doing these past few weeks suits you. If you want my advice, you should keep it up.’
He moves away to the other side of the terrace to join his wife, presumably to calm down so he too can get through a simple family gathering. I watch him kiss my sister-in-law and wave to his son in the pool, pangs of jealousy slicing through me, not for his position as CEO that I once coveted above all else. But because he has a life. A rich and balanced life. A life like the one I could have tried to create with Cam, if I wasn’t so caught up in my fear of failure.
I close my eyes, clarity arriving like a smack in the face. What is failure but evidence that you’ve tried your best?
Cam’s already said I’m enough for him, just the way I am. No changes, no expectations, no conditions. I touch an earring, the earrings Cam gave me in Singapore, hoping somehow to connect with the man who’s taught me how to love. Properly, unconditionally, and without fear. I located the box last night when I returned home to my dark and empty home. I fell asleep clutching it, the only part of him I had access to. The first thing I did this morning was change my earrings.
Even if I’ve lost Cam for ever through my own stupidity, I need a fresh reminder every time I look in the mirror. A reminder of everything he gave me. A reminder I’m more than Orla Hendricks, successful CEO. I’m also Orla Hendricks, woman, and I can have a fulfilling, complete relationship as long as I’m prepared to work just as hard at it.
Not that loving Cam would be hard.
