Page 129 of Loving Wild

“For what? Hitting me? Kicking me? Punching me? Pissing over me? Or for making me feel worthless? Like absolute shit?”

“All of it,” his voice only just above a whisper.

I stare at him, my teeth gritted together so tightly, I’ve given myself a headache.

“Well.” I relax my jaw and let out a deep breath in an attempt at calming myself. “You’ve said what you’ve gotta say. Thank you for the closure. I hope you continue to recover and rebuild what you’ve lost,” I tell him as I stand, unsure if my legs are even capable of holding me up right now. “Especially with the boys, Jay. I really hope you find a way back to being a part of their lives.”

“And you?” he asks as he too stands.

“And me what?”

“Is there a way back to you, to us?”

I shake my head, not quite believing he would think for a single second this could be a possibility.

“I’m with Gabe. I’m happy, and I’m in love. I’m not living the life I planned, but I’ve found a whole new one that I love, and even if I hadn’t, after what you did to me, there would still benoway back.”

I hear the breath he lets out and hate that I feel a sharp stab of something at the sadness and defeat on his face. He nods. “Be well, Jay. Be lucky, be well, and be safe.”

I start to turn towards the exit, “Loz?” he calls my name and I turn back to him.

“I’ve lost the house. I re-mortgaged and not met the payments. I have to be out before Christmas. If there’s anything left there that you want, you need to come and get it before then.”

I shake my head, barely able to breathe when I think of the love that went into building that house and turning it into a home. The memories of raising our boys there, and just like because of his actions, it’s gone.

“I can be out when you come around, take whatever you like, I know you’ll look after it better than me.”

I don’t respond because I have nothing to say. I feel empty.

Focusing on putting one leg in front of the other, I turn and walk away. I call a taxi from my mobile and stand next to the security guard at the door while I wait for my ride to arrive. The whole time, I’m terrified that Jay will flip and come outside looking for me, but he doesn’t, and I don’t see him leave. The instant I close the door to the car and tell the driver where I’m going, I fall apart. I shake so badly my hands can barely hold my phone as I call Gabe.

“Ren?”

I know I’ve taken a beat too long to answer when he says, “Talk to me, babe, you okay? What’s happening?”

“I’m coming . . . I left the hospital. I’m coming to you.”

“What the fuck? What do you mean you’ve left the fucking hospital?”

“I’m in a taxi, please, please don’t shout. Just meet me outside in a minute.” Not wanting to listen to him losing his shit, I swipe and end the call.

Less than five minutes later, I’m outside a different hospital with a different man. This man holds me as I sob into his arms while trying to explain what just happened.

* * *

The sun is shining,the sky that perfect shade of blue without a single cloud in sight, and I wonder what’s sadder, a funeral on a sunny day or a funeral on a rainy day?

Rain probably suits the occasion more, but a sunny day makes me think of the beauty the person being buried will no longer get to see. The sunrises and sunsets, the blue skies, beaches and forests, even the rain.

Gabe’s grip on my hand tightens, my attention returning to him as we stand outside his old family home on the day of his dad’s funeral.

Joe had left specific instructions that his funeral should start and end here, and I can totally understand why. Despite being in need of modernisation, the house is magnificent. Set on an acre block, with sweeping, uninterrupted views of the bay, it’s prime peninsula real estate.

We’re surrounded by Gabe’s brothers, sister, and extended family, who’ve flown in from all around the world, as well as the many, many friends Joe had gained throughout his life.

Even Gabe’s cousin Callum, a member of one of the world’s biggest bands, has taken time out from a world tour and flown in with his wife, Mel, younger sister, Billie, who he has custody of and is raising after the death of their dad, and little girl McKenzie, who, at a guess is around two.

It’s almost three weeks since the accident, and apart from constantly feeling tired, I’m fully recovered. Ava is home and doing well. The only side effect we’ve witnessed so far is a little forgetfulness. The whole reason the funeral has been delayed is so that—at her request—Ava can attend.