How To Mend A Broken Heart

Fletch shook his head. ‘No, she’s at my place for the moment.’

Tess blinked. ‘You have a place in Brisbane?’

Since their separation Fletch had moved to Canada, where he’d been heavily involved in research and travelling the world lecturing. Or at least the last time she’d heard, that had been where he’d been. It was suddenly weird having absolutely no idea where he lived—or any of the details of his life for the last nine years.

She honestly hadn’t cared until today but it somehow seemed wrong now to know so little about someone whose life had been so closely entwined with hers for so long they may as well have been conjoined.

When she thought about him, which she still did with uncomfortable regularity, it was always against the backdrop of their marital home. The ninety-year-old worker’s cottage they’d renovated together.

Polished the floorboards, painted the walls, built the pergola.

The house they’d brought Ryan home to as a newborn.

‘I’m renting an apartment on the river.’

‘Oh. Okay.’

Tess tamped down on her surprise. Fletch had always despised apartment living. Had loved the freedom of large living spaces and a back yard.

But, then, a lot of things had changed over the last ten years.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’ll follow you.’

Fletch nodded. ‘It’s only about a ten-minute drive. See you soon.’

‘Sure,’ Tess murmured, then walked on shaky legs to her car.

Nine minutes later they drove into the underground car park of a swanky apartment block. She pulled her cheap hire car in beside his Jag in his guest car space. They didn’t talk as he ushered her to the lifts or while they waited for one to arrive.

Tess stared at the floor, the doors, the ugly concrete walls of the chilly underground car park—what did one say, how did one act around one’s ex? An ex she’d deliberately put at a fifteen-thousand-kilometre distance?

A lift arrived, promptly derailing her line of thought. He indicated for her to precede him, which she did, and then stood back as Fletch pushed the button for the nineteenth floor. More silence followed. Surely at least they could indulge in inane conversation for the duration of their time together?

A sudden thought occurred to her and she looked at him leaning against the opposite wall. ‘How did you know I was going to be there today?’

Fletch returned her look. ‘Because you’re there every year on the anniversary.’

Tess blinked at his calm steady gaze. ‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I watch you.’

Another silence descended between them as her brain tried to compute what he’d just said. ‘You watch me?’

He nodded. ‘Nine years ago you were leaving as I was arriving.’ He remembered how close he’d come to calling her name. ‘I thought you might come back the next year. You did. And the year after that. So now I … wait for you.’

The lift dinged. The doors opened. Neither of them moved. The doors started to close and Fletch shot an arm out to push them open again. ‘After you,’ he murmured.

Tess couldn’t move for a moment. She stared at him. ‘Why?’

‘I know you think that your grief is deeper than mine but he was my son too, Tess. I also like to visit on the anniversary.’

Tessa flinched at the bitterness in his voice. And then again when the lift doors started beeping, protesting their prolonged open state. She walked out, dazed, conscious of Fletch slipping past her, leading the way down a long plush hallway with trendy inkspot carpeting. She followed slowly, still trying to get her head around Fletch’s revelation.

She drew level with him, glancing up from the floor. ‘I meant why wait for me? Why not just visit for a while and leave?’

Like she did.

Fletch wished he knew the answer to that question. It was the same thing he told himself every year as he set out for the cemetery. Go, talk with Ryan for a bit, then leave.

But he didn’t. He’d sit in his car and wait for her. Watch her kneel beside Ryan’s grave.

Torture himself just a little bit more.

He shrugged. ‘To see you.’

CHAPTER TWO

‘MUM, we’re home,’ Fletch called as he opened the door, checking behind him to see if Tess was following or still standing in the hallway like a stunned mullet.

He wasn’t sure why he’d said what he’d said. Except it was the truth. He just hadn’t realised it until right that moment. He’d kidded himself that it was to check up on her but now he knew it was more.

That there was part of him, no matter how hard he’d tried to move on, that just hadn’t.

He walked into the apartment, throwing his keys on the hallstand. ‘Mother?’

A voice came from the direction of the bathroom. ‘I’m in here, darling, there’s no need to shout.’ Jean appeared a moment later with a spray pack in one hand and a mop in the other.

‘Mum, you don’t have to clean the apartment,’ Fletch said, trying to keep the exasperation and relief out of his voice as he unburdened her of her load.

He didn’t like to leave his mother alone for too long these days. She seemed so frail and unsteady on her feet and he worried she might fall and injure herself while he was out.

Especially if she was mopping floors.

‘I have a cleaning lady for that.’

‘Nonsense, darling, I have to make myself useful somehow. Now, is Tess working late or shall I put something on for tea for her tonight?’

Tess stepped out of the shadow of the entranceway where she’d been frozen since Jean had entered the room. Jean, who had once been a towering Amazon of a woman and was now white-haired and stooped and looked like a puff of wind would blow her over.

She sucked in a breath at the absurd urge to cry. ‘No, Jean, I’m here.’

Jean looked over her son’s shoulder and smiled. ‘Oh, Tess! There you are!’ She hurried forward and pulled Tess into an effusive hug. ‘Goodness, you’re getting so skinny,’ Jean tutted, pulling back to look at her daughter-in-law. ‘And your hair! Did you have that done today? I love it!’

Tess swallowed hard at the shimmer of moisture in Jean’s eyes as her mother-in-law wrapped her in another hug. She shut her eyes as she was sucked into a bizarre time warp where the last decade and all its horrible events just didn’t exist. She held tight to Jean’s bony shoulders.

Her mother-in-law had become an old woman while she’d been away. Guilt clawed at her.

‘How about a cuppa?’ Jean said, finally letting Tess go.