Page 129 of Connectio
Chapter Twenty
“We’re going in that?” I point to the old, rickety rowboat, which isn’t much bigger than Will.
“Yes. Get in.” He taps my arse with the oar.
Jumping forward, I rub the spot and narrow my eyes. “You’re so bossy.”
Will puts down the oar, steps up to me, and lifts my wrist to his lips. There’s a small scar from the surgery, but after several months of recovery and rehabilitation, my broken bones have healed, and my hand is pretty much functioning as normal.
I pressed charges against Stewart Stonewall, as did Ms Hunter, and he’s currently being held in the Melbourne Remand Centre, no bail, with his committal hearing set for this coming December. I’m nervous for the outcome, but for the most part, I’m trying not to think about it. It’s out of my hands now, and I need to focus on the aspects of my life that I do control.
I found out not too long after the incident that Stewart had dislocated Evan’s shoulder during the school holidays when he threw him against the wall. He also held a knife to his throat and broke several of Ms Hunter’s ribs. The night before that awful day at school, Stewart used Evan as a boxing bag, and he was bruised pretty much from top to toe, which is why he refused to remove his jumper when I asked.
My heart still bleeds for him, and I’ll forever feel guilty for not doing something sooner, despite Ms Hunter telling me Stewart hadn’t laid a hand on Evan prior to the school holidays. He always targeted her, and she’d been a willing sacrifice if it meant her son was safe.
The thing is, with Stewart in their lives, Evan had never been safe. But he is now, and he’s thriving, and all is once again good in the world.
“How’s it feeling today?” Will asks as he detaches his lips from my wrist.
I bend it back and forth and smile. “Good as new.”
“Excellent!” He hands me the oar. “You can help me row.”
“What? Ripped off.”
He laughs just as a family of magpies sing in a nearby tree, the sun’s shimmering reflection on the lake bright and beautiful. I inhale and push my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose. Everything is perfect… despite Will wanting to risk my life to go row boating.
“Fine.” I sigh. “I’ll get into this death trap, but only because I love you.”
We’ve been living together in his magical cottage for a couple of months now. It’s a dream come true. Every day, I wake up, and it’s as if I’m in my own fairy tale. But I do miss Sasha terribly. Carly, not so much.
Okay, maybe a little.
He kisses my scar again, winks, then scoops me into his arms, the sunlight illuminating the golden streaks in his beard. I giggle. He kinda sparkles like Edward Cullen in Twilight.
Placing me on my feet next to the boat, Will holds my hand as I carefully step in and take a seat.
“Please don’t tip us,” I say, gripping the sides.
The boat wobbles when he steps aboard, but we stay upright. We survive.
Will pushes off from the shore, and we float toward the centre of the lake, the water as smooth as glass.
I lean over the edge and skate my fingertips across the surface. “This is quite a lovely idea.”
We’ve just come from my routine ultrasounds, and Will thought this would be a nice way to distract me from my thoughts, even though I told him there were no “thoughts” in the first place. But that’s a lie, and he knows it.
“So have you rowed before?” I ask, hoping his answer is yes.
“No.”
“Oh. Well… you’re doing a great job. Keep it up.”
I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Maybe it’s because he’s in one of his quiet man-of-few-words moods. He gets like this sometimes and says it’s because I say enough for us both.
I’ve yet to figure out if that’s a good thing or not.
Rowing along the shoreline, I lean back and rest on my hands, admiring the view. The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up, tight against his biceps, and I’m most thankful as his arms flex delightfully when he rows, the muscles in his neck taut.
