Page 31 of Where the Heart Is

That’s the first day the insidious doubt crept in and took root. Had she made a mistake marrying Jack and following his dream at the expense of hers?

She’d given up travelling to Europe to paint followed by an arts degree in Melbourne to be with him, convincing herself that she’d have plenty of time later to re-enrol. But that never eventuated, considering the time suck of raising a child and helping run a farm.Instead, she did a part-time small-business accounting course so she could take over that side of things, leaving Jack to shoulder the onerous task of agriculture and its constant fluctuations.

She’d admired him for pursuing a degree in ag despite hating studying. He’d spend all day in the field, then be stuck reading books half the night, while attending a TAFE an hour away on weekends. She hadn’t minded at the time because he said he was doing it for them, for their family, and in the long run it would mean they’d get to spend more time together when the farm flourished and he could hire more employees.

It never happened.

Farming life wasn’t for the faint-hearted and in the end, it wasn’t for her.

Tears stung her eyes at the recollection of the day she confronted him. She’d waited until Mila finished her last Year 12 exam and told her she was leaving the next day. Mila had been about to spend the day celebrating with friends and Adelaide had hoped that would distract her after she delivered the bad news. Mila had been stoic—she got that from Jack—and hadn’t begged her to stay. Her granddaughter assumed her grandparents had a fight and it would resolve soon. Adelaide hadn’t corrected her. Instead, she’d packed her bags and left them at the back door so Jack would see them as he entered. He had, but his reaction hadn’t been what she’d expected.

She’d thought he’d take one look at the evidence of her intent to leave and talk to her. That they’d finally converse on a deeper level than they had for years. That they’d confront their lack of communication and intimacy issues, he’d beg her to stay, and she would.

Instead, he’d barely glanced at the suitcases before shrugging and heading to the sink to scrub his hands like he did at the end of every day. She’d asked him if he had anything to say and he shook his head, his jaw set, unable to meet her eyes as he trudged into the bedroom.

She yelled out, ‘Aren’t you going to say something, Jack? Do you care that I’m leaving? Don’t you want to salvage this marriage?’

His silence was all the confirmation she needed that her husband didn’t give a crap about her, and she’d left. Even as she stored her cases in the boot of her car, she’d half expected he’d come after her and talk her out of leaving. Even when she started the engine she waited, letting it idle for a few minutes, hoping he’d come out of the homestead and run towards her. Even as she drove away as slow as she possibly could, she couldn’t tear her gaze from the rear-vision mirror in case he ran after the car.

It didn’t happen and she drove away with tears streaming down her face. A glutton for punishment, she spent the night in that motel in Kaniva and sent Mila a text, knowing her granddaughter would tell Jack where she was. He still didn’t come for her, yet she waited, and when she drove away a few mornings later, leaving the Wimmera and Western Victoria behind her, she vowed to never look back.

So why was she so heartsore now?

Being back at Hills Homestead should be a stroll down a nostalgic lane; it shouldn’t leave her guilt-ridden. Her conversation with Mila precipitated it, but if she was being completely honest with herself, it was Jack being so civil—getting her car towed, offering her a place to stay, driving her around—that made her wish she’d come back sooner for closure.

Once she got divorce proceedings rolling, hopefully she’d feel better, putting a full stop on her past once and for all. To do that, perhaps she should stick around longer than anticipated? Getting the divorce finalised in person would go a long way to emphasising the finality of it. Her past behind her, her future to be lived.

But she couldn’t stay at Jack’s any longer. How awkward would it be, living in a bungalow on her husband’s land when he’d legally be her ex soon?

That’s when her gaze landed on Mila’s farm-stay project again, the first cottage almost completed, and the idea came to her. She could stay here, spend some quality time with her granddaughter, and go through the uncomfortable process of formalising her divorce without living in Jack’s pocket.

The perfect solution.

She hoped all parties agreed.

CHAPTER

19

While Addy took a stroll, Mila called her grandfather.

He picked up on the sixth ring, like he had no intention of answering her call. ‘Mila. How are you?’

His standard greeting made her smile. ‘Good, Gramps. You?’

‘Not bad. I’m getting a coffee in town.’

For someone who’d once told her he couldn’t understand why young people wasted money on buying barista-made coffee from a café when they could just as easily make it themselves at home, this was almost as shocking as learning Addy had spent the night in his bungalow.

‘You’re getting a coffee in town?’ Her scepticism made it sound like he was running up Main Street naked, and she heard a subdued chuckle.

‘I haven’t been in town for a while, thought I’d take a walk. Get something to drink.’

‘Clearing your head, huh?’

He’d have a lot to think about, with Addy landing on his doorstep after so many years.

‘I’ve always taught you to be blunt, young lady, so if you’ve got something on your mind, say it, and stop implying you know what I’m thinking.’

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