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Olivia had cried and called me mean. It broke my heart and still does, but Ellen constantly reminds me that they are resilient. They forgive easily and they love with all their heart.
This vineyard is as much their sanctuary as it is mine and I ruined a part of it for them just like he did for me.
Because I am bitter.
Because I am lonely.
I sit down on the swing, my feet pushing off the ground to get it moving and it picks up speed, my head falls back, letting the wind blow through my hair.
With each pass of the swing, I feel lighter, like the weight I’ve carried today is disappearing, and I try to take myself back to that moment in the shed with Jack. His lips nearly touching mine, the happiness I felt being near him. It was the first time in a long time that I can remember laughing, like truly laughing.
It wasn’t forced. I wasn’t reminding myself to laugh. It just came naturally as does my attraction to Jack. There’s something about him that calms me, but also makes me feel alive.
My eyes are closed as I swing, my hair blowing wildly and when I open my eyes, the vineyard is lit up like a single ship on an empty ocean. Everything around it is dark, pitch-black except the millions of twinkling lights.
I often wonder if it can be seen from the sky, a beacon of light in an otherwise black existence.
One thing I do know, if you’re anywhere on the property at night, you can see the glow radiating from this part of the fields.
Chapter Nine
Jack
My phone ringing is what wakes me and for a second I think I must be back in Australia because no one has called me since I got to the States. I reach for it just as the ringing stops and when I see the name on the screen, I’m glad I missed the call.
“Fucks sake, Mel,” I mutter to myself.
It’s bad enough all the emails she keeps flooding my inbox with, but to now start calling me. I’d thought I’d made it pretty obvious the last time I saw her that I never wanted to speak to her again.
Clearly, she isn’t getting the message.
There’d been a heap more emails when I finished up with work yesterday, only this time I’d actually opened a couple, only to immediately delete them when I saw all the bullshit they contained.
It had totally killed any ideas I’d had of heading over to Lu’s house and trying to pick back up with that almost kiss we’d had earlier in the day too. Instead, I’d sat on the couch nursing a beer in the darkness, my eyes blankly watching a TV show that I wasn’t following, before I eventually dragged myself to bed.
My phone chimes out to let me know she’s left a voicemail. Groaning, I drag myself from bed, pulling on a pair of track pants before wandering into the kitchen to make some coffee.
I most definitely need caffeine to hear this, probably laced with alcohol if I’m being honest.
I switch on the machine and while it does its thing, I take a deep breath and listen to the message I really should just ignore and delete.
“Jack, hi, it’s me, Mel,” she starts, as though I can’t possibly work out that the voice belongs to the woman who ruined my life. “Look, I don’t know where you are or what’s going on here, but we really need to talk. Can you please answer my emails or better yet, return this phone call? Please, Jack, I…” she pauses and already my body is bracing for what I think she’s going to say, the words that are nothing but lies. “I miss you, okay and I…”
The message cuts off before she has a chance to say anymore and I’m grateful. Throwing my phone on the counter, I turn and grab my coffee just as a knock sounds at the front door.
Walking over, I nearly drop my cup when I see who it is.
“Lu, hey,” I say, grinning at her, the voicemail now a distant memory.
“Hi,” she says, her eyes flicking to my bare chest.
I watch as she licks her lips and swallows hard and I can’t resist saying, “You here to finally take me up on my offer?”
Lu immediately rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she pushes past me and walks into the house. I follow her into the kitchen, chuckling a little while also using the opportunity to check her out. She’s wearing some sort of summer dress that’s nothing more than a piece of material that stops just above her knees, thin straps on the shoulders that I’m already itching to pull down.
“No, smart ass,” she says as she walks in and pours a coffee for herself.
“No?” I repeat.
