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“We didn’t take care of you.”
Jason kissed her temple again. “There’s plenty of time for that, baby girl. This was about you. I’ve been wanting to do that since I first read your email. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind, baby.”
“Really?”
Catherine didn’t want to admit the effect his words had on her, but they filled her insides with warmth. Knowing that he’d been thinking about her… She smiled.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
* * *
Jason smiled at Catherine’s reaction to his admission. He’d been thinking about her far more than he wanted to admit. He’d checked his phone constantly, waiting for a new email from her, unable to really focus properly on anything because his mind was on her. Remembering. Wondering.
Her emails had upset him. The knowledge that she’d been treated terribly had bothered him immensely. He hadn’t been able to concentrate for worrying about her. Mucking out the stables this morning, he’d barely been able to complete his task. And in the saddle, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. He’d had to shift his seat repeatedly to pull his phone out of his back pocket, making his horse dance beneath him in confusion. In the end, he’d dismounted and put the horse away. He couldn’t bring himself to ignore his phone—he didn’t want to miss any email she might send. And if he couldn’t concentrate, he was going to ruin his horse. The hours, weeks, months of patient schooling would be in vain. The colt would never reach his potential and his place in the Olympic team would be in jeopardy.
He hadn’t been able to get her perfect pout out of his head. As he rode, he could imagine the sadness he’d seen in her eyes, the fear he knew she must have endured. That she spent her life moping on the couch and filling herself up on ice cream and cheap wine broke his heart. The Catherine he had fallen in love with years ago had been so vibrant and alive. This Catherine was so different. This Catherine was broken.
He bent down and kissed her hair, smiling at the little shiver she gave in response. He had to consciously stop his fists from clenching in anger as he thought about the horrors she’d let slip from her past. What else was there that she was hiding from him?
* * *
Catherine couldn’t help but smile as she drove home, music blaring from the speakers. It was a long drive—well over an hour—and she blasted her music the whole way, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel in time with the beat. At home, she preferred the company of the television to her music. It was predictable, the telly. She knew what to expect. But her tastes in music were vast, and she didn’t need upbeat, dance-y rhythms suddenly changing to soulful ballads that threatened to make her cry messing with her head. She was messed up enough.
“Book the hut for the weekend,” had been Jason’s last words, as he’d leaned in her car window to kiss her goodbye and send her on her way. They’d made her smile at the time. But now, the closer she got to home and having to actually book the hut, the more nervous she got. None of this made sense. Why was she dreaming about the hut in the first place? How was it even possible for her to dream about a place that actually existed, but that she’d never been to? And what was up with the old man? Who was he and why was he calling her name in such a desperate, haunted tone?
Part of her wanted to just forget about the whole thing. But the other part of her couldn’t get away from the fact that she’d been dreaming about this hut for years, ever since she was a child, and wanted to solve the mystery.
Back in her rented flat, it wasn’t long before depression and hopelessness overwhelmed her once again. She was lonely.
You’ve only been home for a few hours!she chided herself, but the time she’d been apart from Jason didn’t matter. She missed him.
She looked around the dismal, dreary flat. She felt so trapped here, much like she had been in her marriage. There was nothing but the four walls around her, the telly, and the outside noises for company. She lived in the quiet part of the city, in a tree-lined outer suburb, not the bustling metropolis of the city centre where she’d once thrived, but still, the sound of cars revving, horns tooting, kids playing, all made their way in from outside.
It was never silent. Not even at night. She wasn’t far from the main road here, and when the night was still, the growl of the exhaust brakes on the large trucks echoed for miles.
And dogs barking. Always dogs barking.
Dogs.
She thought of Jason’s two Labradors. Their gentle company had been just what she’d needed today. Their heavy paws resting on her feet when they’d flopped down beside her, as she watched Jason ride from the comfort of the wooden bench outside the arena. Milo’s comforting presence when she’d been sitting in her car, upset. She missed the dogs already.
Book the hut for the weekend. I’ll come with you.
Hearing Jason’s words in her head made her smile.
Jason. The man she’d once thought the sun had risen and set on. The first man she’d loved. He’d changed, but he hadn’t, at the same time. He was the same man he’d always been, but more rounded, perhaps. His rough edges had smoothed slightly, sanded away by the harshness of life. But that was the only thing that had eroded; his determination and focus were stronger than ever. So was his ability at giving her pleasure.
The weekend was only three days away—three days without Jason. Three days to sink back down into depression. Three days to do nothing but sit on her couch with her ice cream and casket of cheap supermarket wine. Three more days of her pathetic existence she called a life.
* * *
Watching Catherine drive away from the stables after he’d leaned in her window and kissed her goodbye had been hard. They’d started something, something tangible, but they hadn’t completed it. The further down the driveway she’d driven, the harder her strings had tugged on his heart. He’d stood there outside the barn, watching her, his heart clenching, until she had driven around the corner and out of sight. And then he’d gone about his evening chores, reliving every moment of their relationship years before.
She used to be upset a lot. He knew her home life hadn’t been happy, but it wasn’t until they were older that he found out why: her mother was an alcoholic.
Her family had always had plenty of money: her father was a doctor. He knew they were rich because they paid for riding lessons for so many years, as well as agistment for her very expensive horse. She used to catch the school bus there after school and always got picked up in a fancy car. He’d wondered how someone who was from a rich family, and wanted for nothing, could be miserable. He shook his head sadly. There had been so much back then that his young mind couldn’t comprehend.
Back then, he didn’t know Catherine outside of the stables. They didn’t go to school together—he was older than her—but they still saw each other every day. She spent most of her time outside of school there. But she didn’t say anything about her home life. He didn’t know her brother had left home and moved in with a friend, because he couldn’t stand the arguing at home. He didn’t know she hadn’t seen her grandparents, cousins, or any other extended family members that she’d once been so close to, for years. He didn’t know she was estranged from all of them, due to her mother’s drinking. His heart clenched tightly. Painfully. He hadn’t known any of that.
