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A moment passed, and gradually, she became aware of the way she was plastered to him. She wouldn’t dare to hug another man this way, but she couldn’t bring herself to let him go, and he seemed to feel the same, lowering his chin to the top of her head and breathing her in. His chest was firm beneath her cheek and she wondered if he worked out. She was seized by the urge to trace the outline of his muscles and discover whether they were as defined as she suspected.
She drew back, but couldn’t move away completely because his arms were locked around her and he didn’t seem to want to let her go. She allowed herself to drink in the wonder of that. Could a man like him be interested in someone with as much baggage as her? It seemed too much to hope for.
Cut it out, she scolded herself.You’ve been single for all of a week. You need time to get your head on straight.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t help thinking that her heart had been detached from Charles for much longer. She had absolutely no lingering feelings for him. That didn’t mean she was ready to move on, either. It would be a good while before she recovered from the trauma of her last relationship.
“Do you mind if I make cupcakes while you prepare breakfast?” she asked to break the fraught silence.
“That’s fine,” he replied, releasing her and turning away to continue scrambling the eggs. “Just don’t take up all the counter space.”
She watched the lines of his back as he moved, and wanted so badly to kiss the spot between his shoulder blades. “I won’t.”
She collected the ingredients she’d purchased yesterday and started making a base mix, to which she’d add several different flavorings. She’d decided on four types of cupcake based on the basics she’d purchased and what else she’d found already in the cupboards and freezer—pina colada, passion fruit mojito, tropical mai tai, and strawberry daiquiri. Alcoholic cupcakes was something she’d always wanted to try, but Charles had said they were too unrefined.
Screw Charles and his refined taste buds. She was sure someone else would appreciate her efforts. She separated the mixture into four portions and added the flavorings. Real fruit, a number of essences, and assorted other goodies such as desiccated coconut and miniature alcohol samplers. As she worked, she hummed to herself. She was in her happy place, so preoccupied she didn’t notice when Tione left, only twigging that she was alone when she finished scooping batter into cupcake cases and loaded them into the oven.
He’d washed the dishes so the sink was empty. She loaded her mixing bowls and utensils into it and left them to soak, then she hunted down Kat and asked to borrow her phone. It was time to make a long overdue phone call to her mother.
Leaning on the counter in the kitchen, she dialed the familiar number. It rang twice before her mum picked up.
“Rose Talbot speaking. How can I help you?”
“Hi, Mum. It’s Megan.”
“Megan!” she shrieked. “Where are you? Are you okay? What’s going on?” The questions all strung together on a single breath, as happened when her mother was frantic.
“Don’t panic. I’m okay.” She debated whether to say where she was, but considering Charles had already found her, she had no reason to keep it secret. “I’m in a little town called Haven Bay. The place Mark’s friend Sterling moved to. I’m sorry I haven’t called. I left my phone behind in Auckland.”
“Why?” Rose demanded. “Please explain to me what’s happening, darling, because I can’t piece it together.”
“I… uh…”
Why was this so goddamn hard? Lowering herself to the floor, she squeezed her eyes shut to combat the wooziness. She’d kept her own counsel for so long that now she didn’t know how to share. Rose stayed quiet, giving her time to collect herself.
“The thing is…” She wished she didn’t have to do this. She didn’t want to admit what she’d let happen to her. Not to the strongest woman she’d ever known. She tried again. “The thing is that Charles hit me.” She heard a sharp intake of breath but didn’t stop. If she didn’t get all of this out now, she might never. “More than once. It started a little while ago. On the Friday before last, I left him and came here. I didn’t tell any of you because I was so ashamed that I let it happen. God, I should know better, but I didn’t see the warning signs, and you all told me I was moving too quickly and I ignored you.” She swallowed. “I need your help, Mum.”
“Oh, my God,” Rose said. “Oh. My. God. He hit you?”
Picking at her cuticles, she said, “Yes.”
A wail came through the line. She held the phone away from her ear.
“My poor baby,” Rose cried. “You know you can tell me anything, darling. Anything at all. But oh, how did I not see it? You stopped visiting so much, and when you did, he was always there. I just thought he was being attentive. And yes, I was concerned when you decided to move in with him, but I never dreamed he was violent.”
“Please don’t blame yourself.” She held the phone closer to her ear, guilt swamping her. She and her pride were responsible for making Rose feel this way. “He was sneaky, and I hid it well. I’d hoped I could get away from him without anyone ever knowing.”
Rose made a tearful sound. “I should have noticed something was wrong. You’re my daughter. It’s my job to know these things.”
Shame washed over her anew. She hated to hear the self-recrimination in her mother’s voice.
“Shh, Mum. It’s okay. I’m all right. Please don’t feel bad. It’s not as if it’s been going on forever. I just… well, I never thought I’d be the kind of person who was weak enough to let an abuser into my life, and I didn’t want you to think worse of me for it. Especially when Mark and Mikayla would never make a mistake like that.”
“Oh, baby, I could never think poorly of you. In my line of work, I see all kinds of women who end up where you’ve been, through no fault of their own. Some of them are strong career women with dozens of staff reporting to them, and they’re just as vulnerable to a man like Charles as anyone else.”
She wished that made her feel better. But deep down, she couldn’t believe it. Rose had been an awesome role model, and yet, Megan had still strayed down this path. Surely that meant something was wrong with her. Some part of her was broken.
“Thank you for saying that.”
