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“It’s not that I don’t want to. But I can’t see your father letting me.”
“Mum, if you definitely want to come, I’ll make sure it happens. You just tell me that you definitely want to.”
Lynne raised her chin. “I definitely want to.”
“Okay. Good. Let’s finish up so we can get our facials.”
As they found a beauty salon with availability and settled into plush leather chairs, Leah’s mind wandered. She knew she’d been living in limbo, skirting around the edges of the Callum situation. The conversation with her mother had brought it front and center, though, and she found that she could start thinking about it without dissolving in a ball of tears.
She sighed as the beautician smeared a moisturizing mask over her skin. If she was seriously considering heading back to Blessed Inlet soon, she had some unfinished business to deal with first. Georgie.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Callum wasn’t sure how he got through the days after Leah left. They ran into each other with unrelenting pain. He’d texted Leah, but the message bounced back. She’d blocked him. Fair enough. It hurt. A lot. But he could see the reasoning behind it. So he went to work with John. Ate his meals in the unit by himself. Strummed on his guitar. Watched the video. Thought about Leah. Endlessly. After countless days of playing out this pattern, he needed to get something off his chest. He was aware that everyone was avoiding him. Leaving him to his pain. He had needed that. But now, he needed to talk. He reached for his phone and shot off a quick text.
When he pulled up at Rafe and Mikayla’s, Mikayla was already sitting on the front veranda with two bottles of beer. He dropped onto the bench seat next to her, trying to ignore the look of sympathy in her eyes. He didn’t deserve it.
“How is she?”
Mikayla shrugged, handing him one of the bottles. “She doesn’t say much. Just that she’s spending some time with her mother and she’s trying to get in touch with that old friend of hers, Georgie.”
“Is she coming back?”
“She hasn’t said.”
“Has she said anything about me?”
“No.”
He blew out a breath. “Did you know?”
“I only knew that she’d met you before, not the circumstances.”
“I saw her out the front of the pub, afterwards. Asked for her number. She gave it to me. Then I kissed her.” He took a swig of the beer, ignoring the bitter taste.
“Oh,” Mikayla said slowly. “I thought it was like a fan thing, you signed something at a gig, or something like that. I had no idea it was that big.”
“She didn’t tell you.”
“No.”
“She didn’t tell me, either. Why didn’t she tell me?”
“I don’t know.”
He took another sip of beer. “You know what cuts me, Mik? I mean, cuts me to the bone.” He couldn’t go on.
“What?”
He swallowed hard. “The idea that if I’d rung her…If I’d rung her, maybe that would have been enough to stop her from marrying that fuckhead.”
“You can’t know that.”
He shrugged.
Mikayla sighed, scooted closer to him on the bench and put her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.”
