Page 96 of Coming Home to Wishington Bay
But he hadn’t shared this then, and he certainly hadn’t mentioned it before we took things further, and I would have expected that something as major as the fact he was leaving the country for good would have been a point he might have raised before telling me that he no longer wanted our relationship to be fake. Of course, he would have done. I’d just got the wrong end of Martha’s stick.
‘How do you think you’ll like living in Australia, Holly? I can’t remember now if Gabe said you’d ever been before?’
Or apparently I had exactly the right end of the stick, and it wasn’t all that pleasant.
‘No. I … I’ve never been,’ I said, the words sounding in my head as though someone else had spoken them, my mouth dry, like I’d been chewing on cotton wool.
‘It’s so wonderful that you’ll be coming with him. Anyone can see how happy you are together. It’d be so hard if you’d found each other only to have a move force you apart …’
Martha was still speaking but I didn’t hear a word. Gabe was returning to Australia and he’d never said a word. He’d made me care about him. Made me think he cared about me and all the time he’d known that this … none of this had meant anything. Clearly, he’d just got bored of the fact his pretend girlfriend couldn’t, or wouldn’t, give him all that he wanted so he’d done a little pretending of his own.
‘I’m sorry. I …’ I stood, feeling myself sway. Gabe’s arm automatically steadied me but I felt my body tense at his touch and I knew he’d felt it too, his hands dropping as I leaned on the wall. ‘I know this is really rude, but I think I’m going to have to go to bed. I’m not feeling well. Please don’t rush off though. You’re more than welcome to stay. Gabe can just lock up and post the key through the letterbox.’
Gabe’s expression showed he’d got the message. If he thought he was welcome in my house, in my bed, after tonight, he was entirely mistaken.
‘Oh, love,’ Martha said, standing and clasping my hands in hers, thankfully completely missing the underlying drama being played out. ‘Have you been doing too much? Gabe’s been telling us how hard you’ve been working on the house and all the other things.’
I couldn’t speak anymore. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be in my bed, back before I knew any of this happiness, so that I wouldn’t feel so utterly ripped apart now that it had been snatched away. And by the one person I’d trusted never to do it.
‘Come on, George. We’ll leave you to it. Gabe? You take care of her and let us know in the morning how she’s doing, all right?’
He nodded as they hugged him and headed out of the glass door, the crunching of their footsteps getting softer as they got further away.
‘You need to go too,’ I said, having moved to the door, now desperate for air, feeling the tightness in my chest, the tell-tale tingles beginning as the room began to seem less grounded.
‘Holly. We need to talk about this.’
I shook my head. ‘Enough. Said,’ I forced out, wincing at the pain.
‘Come and sit down,’ he said, his hand on my arm.
My breath was coming in shorter and shorter bursts now, so that I couldn’t even speak but the violence with which I shook off his hand said more than all the words could have. Gabe stood back.
‘You need to breathe, Holly. Please! I know you’re angry with me but let me help you with this!’
I shook my head and pointed outside, my arm straight, knuckles white with the effort of holding myself up on the door handle. Gabe ran a hand over his hair, frustration showing in the tense muscles of his neck, his own balled fists. I couldn’t speak but my eyes told him I wasn’t changing my mind.
Scooping up Bryan, and Petey the prawn, he stepped through onto the patio, turning before I could close the door. ‘If you need me, call me. Message me. Whatever. Don’t risk your health because you’re mad at me.’
I closed the door and snapped the blinds shut.
* * *
By the time I got to the bedroom, I was on my hands and knees, tears streaming as I struggled for breath. I wasn’t sure if those tears were for what had happened tonight or panic at the struggle, or maybe both. Using the last bit of energy I could muster, I dragged myself up onto the bed and curled up into a foetal position, as I tried desperately to remember everything I’d read in the self-help book. But all that swam in front of my eyes was that Gabe had pretended this was real when all along he’d known it wasn’t.
* * *
It was just after eight when I finally awoke the next morning. The panic attack had finally subsided about an hour after it had begun and I’d then lain awake for another few hours, unable to sleep, turning everything over in my mind, until finally I’d given in to the physical and emotional exhaustion and slept.
There were several messages from Gabe and three missed calls. I deleted them all. Ten minutes later, another message came in.
Holly. Please talk to me. G xx
So not going to happen. Delete.
Half an hour later there was another call. I pressed the answer button but said nothing.
‘Holly?’
