Page 63 of Barging In
“He never takes anyone to the house.”
“Failed,” Clem retorted with a tilt of her head.
The comment made Victoria remove her hand from Clem’s leg. Clem had been enjoying how it felt there, and she felt its absence, sharp and immediate.
When Victoria spoke again, her voice was slower, quieter. “That I and” — her jaw worked — “are never in the same room as each other.”
Clem smirked. “Does the car park outside count?”Noticing a pained expression on Victoria’s face, she softened her tone. “You should be a main character in your own life, not an extra in Drew’s.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that Iwantthings to stay as they are. I'm an employee of his company. He owns the wharf, the house. Everything is in his name. I don't have anything, and who knows what I’ll end up with in a divorce. I gave up the only job I was good at — for what? A calling?”
“I can relate to that. At least you didn't buy a boat and try to make a living off coffee and cakes to survive.”
Victoria gave a faint laugh, easing Clem’s tension for the briefest moment. “Hey, I’ve tasted your cakes. They’re amazing.”
“Do you still love him?” Clem asked, brushing past the compliment. She wasn’t finished with her line of questioning.
Victoria hesitated. “We have a history together. We’ve built things.”
“I’m not talking bricks and mortar, Victoria. I mean connection. Affection. Desire. The kind of love that lights you up.”
“I fell out of love years ago,” Victoria answered, her gaze drifting away. “We made a good team in business, just not romantically. I think it began to fizzle out as soon as the ring went on and the babies didn’t come out.I miss what we were at the beginning.”
Clem let out a humourless laugh. “If you’re hanging around hoping to get that back, then I hate to break it to you, but you’re dreaming. He’s shown you who he is; how little he values you.”
“Some things are too difficult to undo. Our lives are entwined even if our hearts aren’t,” Victoria said, her voice flat with the weariness of acceptance.
“There is nothing that can’t be unpicked and something new sewn in its place — stronger. Sometimes it requires a leap of faith.”
“I’m not religious,” Victoria scoffed.
“I don’t mean it like that,” Clem groaned. “I mean trusting that the end of something isn’t the end ofeverythingbut the start of something new. No matter how hard it is to begin again.” Clem paused to soften her tone. “I’ve done it. I gave up a career, a guaranteed income, all because I knew deep down it wasn’t what I wanted for my future. Who knows how it will turn out? I bake and sell relentlessly, and I still don’t know if I can make it work.” She tried to breathe, but the tightness in her chest returned. “If it doesn’t, then I’ll have to try and come up with a new plan. But whatever it is, it has to drive me out of bed in the morning. Something that lights my fire.”
“You’re braver than I am,” Victoria murmured, quiet resignation threading through her voice.
“I took a risk… a risk that could see me homeless and jobless. And yeah, working in Florence wasn’t quite how I pictured it, and I don’t how long it’ll last. I never saw myself doing it forever, but I knew I couldn’t keep going as I was. I ran with an idea to escape. Then Florence came into it, and it became emotional.” Clem sighed. “Now there’s even more pressure to make it work because I could never sell her. It would break my mum’s heart.”
“Sounds like you are trapped,” Victoria observed. “Risks are not so easily taken as they are spoken.”
“You have an answer for everything,” Clem said, frustration creeping in as she tried to ignore Victoria’s comment. “Why hold so tightly to something that burns your fingers but not your heart?”
“Safety and security. I’m fifty,” Victoria said, her words firm, almost defiant.
Clem softened. “And how do you think the next fifty years will play out turning a blind eye?”
Victoria’s gaze hardened. “I can turn a blind eye to keep my life together.”
Clem felt her anger rising again as her heart twisted. “He’s in the wrong here. He’s got plenty to lose, too — way more than you do, I expect.” She paused, carefully choosing her words. “Why are you scared?”
“I don’t want to be alone.”
“It’s better to be alone than unhappy. And honestly, I believe you already are alone.”
Victoria folded her arms. “The wharf makes me happy. It sustains me… as much as I need.”
“I’m not sure I believe that. What about your self-worth? Your dignity?”
Victoria looked away, her silence speaking louder than words.
