I wanted to hit rewind and go back to just before, ignoring the child and kissing him anyway or at least ask him if he had felt it too. The magnetic attraction which somehow eviscerated whatever friendship we had, begging us to break the rules and explore. But I was no longer feeling bold, only disappointed.
We sat there for a while longer before deciding to hop out and find a place to scatter my parents. Somewhere close enough to hear the trickling of the water where their story commenced. And it was only as I was about to exit our little haven, that his thumb tentativelyreached forward and grazed my wrist, telling me hehadfelt it too. A silent confirmation that we’d been at an almost – a quiet turning point in our friendship, where one word, one action, could have shifted everything.
Well, shit.
Shelby
Chapter Five
High Tea & Co, Australia
I know I will forever look back on my time here with a smile. A fondness which can only come from spending four days with the funniest person you’ve ever met in a picturesque oasis where you know your deepest secrets will never be uncovered. I could spend pages describing the serenity of the mini rainforest blanketing the bed and breakfast style rooms but Ash is already trying to rip the pen from my hands desperate to make the most of our last day here (can you believe she didn’t want to come here?) Especially with how the isolation alone created a space where we could be our truest selves without recourse.
I want to remember the sanctity of wandering through a few hundred square metres of hidden tranquillity. And so close, yet so far from civilisation. But that hasn’t even been the highlight.
The highlight has been the food. The sweets. Kennedy and his all you can eat cakes have been the true treasure of this trip. And something I will endeavour to replicate as soon as we are home.
High Tea & Co. you deceptive dream. Something I will never recommend as I hope to maintain your untouched ambience, but a place Ash and I will laugh until we cry remembering.
“Why don’t you just remove that song from the playlist?” Corbin asked with a quick glance towards the dashboard where I’d just pressed skip.
Outraged, I gasped. “Blasphemy! Celine is my queen!”
We’d been driving for close to three hours, leaving the vibrance of The Springs behind as we travelled across the country towards our next destination. Neither of us had broached our near kiss, nor come close to it happening again, but things felt a little lighter. Both reaching for each other more often as if we’d always been like this, with closeness part of our language.
“Since we left Melbourne, we’ve listened to this playlist in its entirety, three times, and you’ve skipped that song every single time.”
“But what if I feel like listening to it the next time it comes on? She is my compatriot after all.” I held firm, refusing to acknowledge the man had a point because the thought of removing it was as outrageous as it was cumbersome. Who even removed tracks anyway? Just skip them like the rest of us normal folk.
“I, umm, never mind,” he relented, shaking his head as the GPS indicated we needed to turn right in two kilometres. We still had another hour to drive, and I wasn’t even remotely upset. The landscape afforded the most beautiful viewing experience as we travelled, a natural colour palette of all Australia had to offer.
Driving through the vast road felt like moving through a never-ending postcard of the outback – it was sparse, empty and magnificently mesmerising. A captivating travel companion and despite staring at the same view for hours, I wasn’t even close to bored. I could have walked the sweep for days, enjoying the breathtaking panorama of open land, if I liked walking – which I did not. Also, I wasn’t built for the summer. You could see the heat literally twisting through the air, making everything ahead look likea hazy dream. Unlike the singlet wearing adonis beside me who was born for a warm holiday season, I was a snow gal.
I kept sneaking glances at his prominent biceps, which at this point I was certain he had on display to test my willpower in keeping my hands to myself. It was an unsolvable equation how someone who didn’t use a gym and commanded boardrooms all day, had a physique like this guy and, not for the first time, I wondered if it would be inappropriate to ask him to pull over and conduct aten for tenpurely so I could touch him. It would be the first time in the history of Shelby that I’d ever wanted to participate without thinking about my own turn. But I knew it would prove equally gratifying if only so I could trace the contours of his skin, connecting the splattering of freckles with my fingers, and I couldn’t have cared if he didn’t reciprocate. An oddity.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come over with Mum the last time she visited.” The change of subject was so swift it took me a minute to stop perving on his eye-catching biceps and decipher what he meant.
He was apologising he wasn’t there when Mum passed and the sincerity in his apology caused my heart to ache.
“It was for the best that you didn’t. For so many reasons.” I answered honestly. The end hadn’t been kind for Mum. It wasn’t a peaceful passing or one that happened in her sleep or from old age where I could seek comfort in knowing it was her time. It was altogether too soon; she was far too young and it was one hundred percent unfair. In the end she was frail. Unrecognisable to the point where even Blake found it difficult to visit and so, with just Aunty Ash by my side and Mum’s wishes to remain at home, we made her as comfortable as possible.
“I wasn’t in a great way, and it would have been a long way to travel for…that.” I said, with sincerity in my tone.
I thought about the long nights towards the end sitting by her bed. The gaps in her breathing, wondering if each was her last. The endless tears until they too dried up and I became a zombie. AuntyAsh having to prompt me to shower and eat each day. I wasn’t the sort of person who braved through and had things sorted. Those powerhouses who upon hearing awful news were able to push their own emotions aside and rally for everyone around them. I was quite literally the opposite. Unless I knew Blake was going to be there and I needed to shelter him from pain, I was scattered, lost and angry. And it had taken me a long time and many hours in counselling to work through that and accept the grief was now something I had to live with. It didn’t have to be my dominant emotion though.
“Still, I wished I could have been there for you. I -” He cut himself off and I kept my gaze out the window, knowing if I looked his way, I would lose the battle with the tears threatening to escape. The last thing I wanted right now. I wanted to tell him hehadbeen there for me. The flowers he’d sent every day for a month. The crayons and colouring packs he had delivered so frequently that the postman started recognising my name, and all those late-night calls, sometimes just a simple ‘hello,’ knowing it was the middle of his workday, but never hanging up until he was sure I’d fallen asleep. And often I wouldn’t sleep without him on the other end of the phone, especially in the first few weeks after she passed. The loneliness had been consuming and no one else realised.
“Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone?” He finally asked with a hint of apprehension which had me turning away from the barren landscape and the depths of my memories.
“Of course.” I let out a deep breath, my hand reaching forward to stroke his forearm. The move was platonic, therapeutic even, but it sent a flurry of goosebumps across my own skin which were entirely out of place given the heat.
I felt his eyes move down to watch the gesture briefly and I waited for him to pull away or ask me to stop but instead he turned his arm over, giving me access to the underside of his forearm. The soft, smooth canvas was receptive to my touch, his palm opening as he relaxed.
“My biggest fear is flying,” he admitted softly. “Terrifies me. Have never been on or even near a plane.”
My eyes widened, but I did my best not to stiffen. This was something I didn’t know. Something he had never shared and something which explained so many things. We’d never really discussed visiting, with the cost of flights and then as we grew, work commitments and Mum’s illness taking over, but I never considered there was something deeper.
“Aren’t you moving overseas soon?”
