Sweet Thing Page 14

  She nodded, her eyes clear with clarity at last. ‘You’ve been honest with me so I’ll return the favour. I don’t expect your father to come around. He’s still livid at your “antics”.’ She made air quote marks. ‘But I’ll do my best to make him see reason.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  This time, I leaned in to give her a brief hug. To her credit, she hadn’t baulked at my revelations or tottered out of here on her designer heels. Maybe there was some hope for us to re-establish a mother-daughter relationship. A real one, free of domination and subservience and lies.

  ‘I’ll be in touch but in the meantime if you need anything you call me, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  She kissed my cheek, cast me a final confused glance like she couldn’t figure me out, before sailing out of the patisserie, leaving a cloud of rose-scented air in her wake.

  There’d been no mention of a specific catch-up. No mention of coming home for a meal. But for now, it was enough. I knew my mum and her coming here to offer me my own patisserie had been a big gesture on her part. Huge.

  It was a start.

  Later, I’d mull our exchange at length. For now, I had a stack of beignets to bake and loads of news to catch Remy up on.

  Starting with how his brother had stolen my heart without trying and I had no idea what to do about it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Tanner

  THE MOMENT I heard Abby’s mother offer her a patisserie I should’ve eased away from the door and headed back to the kitchen.

  When we’d initially heard Abby’s raised voice, Remy had sent me to the front to investigate but I’d stopped short when I’d peeked around the half-closed door and spied Abby in a standoff with a woman.

  I had to admit curiosity had got the better of me when I’d heard Abby call the immaculately dressed, perfectly coiffed older blonde ‘Mum’.

  So this was the dragon that’d abandoned her daughter for an entire year. She didn’t look so bad. Then again, most people had thought my father looked like a frigging saint and he’d had the black soul of a devil.

  I’d been so proud of Abby, standing up to her mother. But it sounded like this wasn’t the first time they’d met up. I’d heard something about Abby being ambushed outside TAFE.

  Which meant she’d lied to me. She’d said her parents hadn’t been in contact over the last twelve months, yet she’d obviously seen her mother. Why would she keep that secret?

  If I’d needed proof that she only saw me as short-term fling material, this was it. Obviously I wasn’t to be privy to her family dealings, not when we had a clear expiration date.

  A date I’d deliberately brought forward today.

  I hovered at the door like a goddamn sneak, long enough to witness their happy reunion. Abby had forgiven her mum. She’d accept the patisserie. She’d be welcomed back into the family fold. Who knew? She might even find some other rich prick from her social circle to hook up with.

  Wasn’t any of my concern. That ache in my chest had to be heartburn from downing three steaming espressos at the hospital.

  In a way, Abby’s decision made things easier. I’d had a gutful of being second best growing up. This time, I wouldn’t stick around to be anyone’s second choice. Never again.

  Leaving them hugging and in tears, I backed away from the door. Time to hit the road.

  When I strode into the kitchen, Remy was flicking through one of Abby’s notebooks, covered in her flowing scrawl and overflowing with recipes cut from newspapers and magazines.

  I’d teased her about the many notebooks lying around her apartment. She’d said it was her thing, to let it go, but I’d loved watching her sit in her favourite armchair, idly flicking those pages, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, as a small satisfied smile played about her mouth.

  She loved her job and it showed. She’d be a great pastry chef, good enough to give Remy a run for his money. Good luck to her. Pity I wouldn’t be around to see her success.

  ‘What happened out there?’ Remy flipped the book shut and laid it on the bench. ‘Abby sounded upset.’

  ‘It’s her mother.’

  Remy gaped at me, like I’d announced a visit from the Queen. ‘She’s here?’

  I nodded and jerked a thumb over my shoulder at the front of the patisserie. ‘They’ve made up.’

  ‘Good for her.’ The concern clouding Remy’s eyes didn’t dissipate instantly. ‘That family has a lot to make up for, abandoning Abby like that.’

  ‘I agree.’ I made a grand show of looking at my watch. ‘Now that you’re back, bro, I’ve got a ton of work to catch up on. So take it easy. I’m outta here.’

  I should’ve known Remy wouldn’t let me leave so easily. ‘But you’re coming back, right?’

  I could’ve made up some bullshit story. But this was Remy. I couldn’t do it. Not to him.

  ‘No.’

  A short, sharp refusal that hung in the air like a stinky pall. Heavy and oppressive. Stifling anyone unlucky enough to be near it.

  ‘You’re leaving?’ Disgust curled Remy’s upper lip. I didn’t blame him. I disgusted myself too.

  ‘I’m staying in Sydney but I won’t be around here to help any more.’ I thrust my hands in my pockets, alarmed to find them shaking a tad. This was it. The break from Le Miel. And Abby. ‘You’ve got it covered. I’ll check in on you at home and if you need me for anything, just call—’

  ‘You’re running scared. Again.’ Remy spat the words out, staccato and stabbing. ‘Let me guess. You’re not even going to say goodbye to Abby.’

  Feeling like a low-life bastard, I shrugged. ‘I’ll call her—’

  ‘You’ll call her? How fucking magnanimous.’ Remy sneered, his loathing nothing on what I felt myself. ‘I can’t believe I thought you’d changed, that this time might be different.’

  I shouldn’t ask. I really shouldn’t, but I found the question spilling from my lips. ‘Different, how?’

  ‘You’ve looked lighter, happier, than I’ve ever seen you.’ Some of Remy’s anger faded as his face relaxed into an expression bordering on antipathy. ‘I knew it was Abby. She was good for you. And judging by the way she lit up earlier when you walked in the door, I’d say the feeling is mutual. But you’re going to screw it up again. Run like you usually do. Pretend that you’re a big tough guy not affected by your past, when in fact it consumes you.’

  ‘You’re talking out your ass,’ I snapped, clamping down on the flicker of fear Remy’s accusations elicited. ‘And keep your psychobabble bullshit to yourself.’

  ‘No. This time you listen.’

  I’d never heard Remy like this, his tone low and lethal. Ice cold. Chilling.

  ‘Dad did a number on you. I get it. For some unknown reason he hated you, and I’m sorry I wasn’t around enough to figure it out earlier. But he’s gone. He can’t hurt you any more, so why are you letting him?’

  I gaped at Remy in open-mouthed shock. I’d never spoken to him about Dad. Had gone out of my way to put on a brave face the few times Remy was home to eat dinner with us. Had deliberately pretended I was fine while he chased his dream and I lived at home with a monster that blamed me for every bad thing that had happened in his life.

  I could deny it now. But what was the point? Besides, it might do me good to offload some of the bottled-up crap, considering I was screwing up with Abby because of it.

  ‘How did you know?’

  Remy slumped, aging before my eyes. ‘The day before Dad died I came home early. Heard you two arguing. Heard some of the stuff he said to you...’ Remy’s voice broke and he cleared his throat several times before he could continue. ‘I hated myself for not knowing, for not being more aware. I was going to talk to Dad about it, and to you, but then he had that heart attack the next day and it seemed pointless dredging it all up when you seemed so
relieved.’

  ‘Best fucking day of my life.’

  Sadly, it could never trounce the worst. The day I’d overheard my parents arguing, the day I’d learned why Dad hated me, the day Mum had been so upset she’d driven off in anger, swerved off the road and hit a tree, dying on impact.

  Remy’s eyes glittered with realisation. ‘Did he ever hit you?’

  I shook my head. ‘Not punches, just the good old-fashioned wooden spoon on my ass, but the rest was worse...’ Then it all came bubbling out, like a lanced boil, filled with putridity. ‘He grabbed me a few times, rattled the living daylights out of me while yelling the usual abusive crap. About how I looked like Mum and that was a constant reminder of how he’d made the worst decision of his life to marry her.’

  My chest heaved with the effort of subduing sobs. ‘But he didn’t stop there. Because tolerating his crap and me asking what was behind his hatred was like uncorking a genie bottle; unfortunately for me, vitriol appeared and I sure as hell didn’t get any wishes.’

  I wanted to tell Remy all of it but I couldn’t. If he looked shattered by my partial revelations, the rest would undo him completely and I couldn’t be responsible for that.

  A derisive chuckle, devoid of amusement, exploded from my mouth. ‘When you were around, he behaved normally. When you weren’t, he heaped praise on you and acted like I didn’t exist. When he wasn’t accusing me for being as useless as Mum, that is. I pretended like the constant put-downs meant nothing. That I was impervious to whatever he said. But even now, I still think I’m not good enough. That people can see through me to the unworthiness beneath...’ I sounded broken, frail, and it mortified me.

  I’d hidden everything from Remy, had not wanted to worry the brother I idolised. Remy had been my rock, the one constant in a crappy childhood. For him to now know how badly I was fucked up... I should’ve felt better, finally confessing, but it made everything one hundred times worse.

  ‘Fuck, I’m so sorry, I had no idea...’ Remy’s voice hitched and his face crumpled as he swiped a hand across his eyes. ‘Why didn’t you tell me—?’

  ‘Not worth both of us having a shit upbringing.’

  My eyes burned but I’d be damned if I shed one tear over that old bastard. My brother staring at me like I’d stabbed him in the heart, that was another matter entirely. I wanted to blubber like a baby the longer he gawked at me with pity visible in his tear-filled eyes.

  ‘You really feel unworthy still?’

  A question I didn’t want to answer because it sounded pathetic articulated out loud. At my core was that bitter young boy, filled with resentment and anger and hatred, but helpless to do anything about it.

  When I didn’t respond, Remy slumped further, appearing to sink in on himself. ‘Shit, I’m so sorry, Tanner. But look how far you’ve come.’ Remy gestured at the door, his eyes glistening with tears I’d caused. Me. It tore me apart all over again. ‘Out there is an amazing woman who I’m pretty sure is head over heels for you and you’re walking away because—’

  ‘Because she’ll ultimately walk away from me. Her mother just offered Abby her own patisserie,’ I hissed through gritted teeth, the futility of all this washing over me like an icy wave. ‘Don’t you get it? I’ll never be good enough for someone like her.’

  A lone tear trickled down Remy’s cheek. ‘You are the best—’

  ‘Thanks, bro, but it is what it is.’

  I had to get out of here before I lost it completely. Or worse, Abby came back in.

  ‘Say bye to Abby for me.’

  I didn’t wait around to hear Remy’s response as I bolted out the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Abby

  I DABBED AT the moisture under my eyes with my pinkies, not wanting Remy and Tanner to interrogate me about the reason behind the tears when I re-entered the kitchen.

  I couldn’t believe it. Mum making a grand gesture. Seeking forgiveness. Re-establishing contact without trying to direct my life. Despite blaming them for so much, I’d missed my family and after our last confrontation had given up all hope of ever being part of the Prendigasts. But if Mum had made an overture, I hoped Dad would follow and, eventually, we’d be a family again.

  Not like before, with me afraid to voice an opinion or following their lead for everything, but in a mature way where we respected each other.

  I could live in hope.

  I paused at the kitchen door, breathed in and out a few times, before fixing a smile on my face and striding in. Only to find Remy slumped at a bench, head in hands, looking like he’d received devastating news.

  Tanner was nowhere to be seen.

  Foreboding strummed my spine as I approached him. ‘Hey, everything okay?’

  When he raised his head and his agonised, bloodshot gaze met mine, I knew it wasn’t. In fact, something bad had happened in the few minutes I’d been out front, and I rubbed my bare arms against the sudden chill sweeping over me.

  ‘Where’s Tanner?’

  He shook his head, his expression so morose I wanted to hug him. ‘Gone.’

  ‘Did you two fight?’

  ‘No.’ He swore, something he never did, and I pulled up a stool alongside him. ‘There’s no easy way to say this, but he’s not coming back.’

  Confused, I leaned closer. ‘What do you mean? Not coming back to help here? That was inevitable, but—’

  ‘He’s gone, Abby.’ He spoke softly, barely above a whisper. ‘And he asked me to say goodbye to you.’

  It took a second for understanding to dawn, and when it did I slumped against the bench too, filled with horror and disappointment and eventually numbness. An icy, debilitating chill that spread from my chest out, making my arms and legs tingle then shake.

  It did little to anaesthetise the pain twisting my gut, making me want to vomit.

  ‘What happened? I was only gone a few minutes.’

  I couldn’t comprehend it. This morning in bed he looked like he cared way beyond casual. Now he’d walked away from me without even saying goodbye? It didn’t make sense. Sadly, I had a feeling nothing Remy said would clarify my confusion.

  ‘Tanner’s in a funk and when he’s overwhelmed, he runs.’ Remy pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘It’s what he’s always done.’

  ‘Am I the cause of that funk?’

  Remy had the decency to meet my gaze when he nodded. ‘I think so. I’ve never seen him so happy. It’s why I thought this time would be different.’

  A stab of jealousy pierced my sadness. ‘So he’s done this before with other women?’

  ‘No, he’s never let other women get this close.’ A deep frown slashed Remy’s brow. ‘You’re a first, which is why I thought he’d make a stand and fight.’

  ‘I don’t understand. He’s in a funk because he’s happy?’

  Remy nodded, sorrow turning down his mouth. ‘He thinks he’s not good enough for you.’

  ‘What?’ Incredulous, I pressed my fingers to my temples to try and make sense of all this. ‘He’s successful, rich and hot. Why would he think he’s not good enough?’

  A slow-burning anger overtook my indignation. ‘And I’m not going anywhere, so why would he think I’d leave?’

  Remy faced me, his expression morose. ‘Has he mentioned our parents?’

  I nodded. ‘Yeah. Sounds like he idolised your mum but your dad was awful.’

  ‘Okay, so you know some of it...’ Remy shook his head. ‘It’s not my place to tell you everything I just learned, but let me say this. Tanner has been through a hell of a lot and he’s hurting...’ He shrugged, a simple gesture filled with helplessness. ‘It really messed with his head. Explains why as soon as he inherited his trust fund he rebelled, determined to do his own thing and prove himself to the world.’

  A picture formed in my head that broke my heart. A boy losing his p
arents too young and becoming emotionally stunted because of it. A child with an inherent lack of trust for anyone other than the brother who stood by him through everything. Now that boy had become a man who shunned intimacy because of that lack of trust.

  But I’d never given him any indication that I would hurt him.

  Other than the clearly articulated short-term nature of our liaison.

  Hell. I’d basically told him at the start that I was one of a long line of people in his life who wouldn’t stick around. No wonder he’d bolted when he’d thought we might be getting serious.

  I muttered a curse under my breath. ‘What can I do?’

  Remy patted my arm. ‘Honestly? Nothing. I know from experience that once Tanner makes up his mind, nothing or no one can change it.’

  He glanced away, his furtive look not filling me with confidence. ‘He thinks that once you’ll open your own patisserie, you’ll be absorbed back into your old life and you won’t want him cramping your style.’

  ‘What the...?’ I shook my head, confused again. ‘But I’m not opening my own patisserie. I mean, maybe one day, but I’m happy here.’

  Remy’s expression lightened as he eyeballed me. ‘But he overheard your mum’s offer and thought you’d accepted?’

  ‘He misconstrued.’ I made crazy circles at my temple. ‘That’s what happens when you listen at keyholes.’

  He managed a wan smile at my dry response. ‘So you’re staying?’

  ‘For as long as you’ll have me.’ I leaned over and gave him an impulsive hug. ‘You saved me when I needed it most. I’d never betray you.’

  ‘It’s not a betrayal to embrace your family again,’ he said when we’d sat back. ‘I saw how gutted you were when they abandoned you.’

  ‘Honestly? I’m trying to give Mum the benefit of the doubt with her generous offer, but a part of me can’t help but feel she’s trying to buy my forgiveness?’

  He nodded, his brow furrowed in thought. ‘You could be right, considering the length of time she’s taken to approach you. But she’s your mother. Take it from someone who lost my mum far too early and who’d give anything to have more time with her. Don’t waste time analysing her motivation. Just give it a chance.’