I had no idea what was going to happen with Matt. Whether he would return and be the father and partner I wanted him to be, or whether I would be raising this child alone. But before yesterday I always thought I would have my sister by my side. I thought that one day we would have children together, sharing the ups and downs of life. The thought that she may never come home caused a tsunami of anxiety and I struggled not to drown. My heart raced, as I hugged my knees to my chest, and a sob stuck in my throat.
My hand spasmed as I clenched my phone like a lifeline and sat in the darkness, lost in despair, Harper glued to my side. I had no idea how long it had been, but as the air cooled around me, my phone vibrated in my hand. Danny’s caller ID shone back at me, and my stomach plummeted as my heart missed several beats.
I swiped to answer it, but he didn’t wait for me to say hello. Instead he just yelled, “They’ve found them! They’re alive and on their way to the hospital.”
An uncontrollable shake took hold of me and sobs escaped my throat as the tears fell like an avalanche.
Chapter Four
Lizzie had been to hell and back. She had a bandage taped to her neck covering the glue that held her skin together, and despite Riley being shot and losing more blood than what was healthy, he was going to pull through.
It had been touch and go for Riley, but the doctor said he would physically make a full recovery. Emotionally and mentally it was going to be a long road ahead. But they both had the love and support of family, and despite the fact that we could all get on each other’s nerves at times, when it was needed, we pulled together. They also had each other.
I still hadn’t heard from Matt. I had tried calling him repeatedly and was worried when he hadn’t returned my call. Even if he wasn’t ready to be a dad, I knew he cared about Lizzie and Riley and would have wanted to know how they were.
A wave of nausea rolled, as I twirled in front of the mirror assessing today’s outfit. Brooke had gone ahead and booked her vow renewal photos via my online booking service, and without Lizzie’s help, I just hoped that I could control my morning sickness and get the job done.
The sun streamed through the floor to ceiling window of my bedroom and I pushed the nausea aside, knowing that after what my family had just been through, everything from now on was going to be okay, and that my subconscious just needed to calm itself down and stop making me feel anxious all the time.
I dressed in my work uniform of black A line dress pulled it in around my waist with a thin belt, and slipped my feet into my peep toed wedges (not too high that I had to worry about varicose veins). I piled my hair up high and held it with a zirconia encrusted clip and upped my eyeliner to compensate for my lack of sleep.
Already feeling better, I ensured I had everything I needed in my camera bag, collected my tripod and made my way out into the heat.
Summer in Westport was always a scorcher. The temperatures got into the high thirties, but it was the humidity that zapped the energy. Today it was supposed to be around thirty-five degrees Celsius, and the humidity was going to be in the nineties. Ugh. Thank goodness by the time my stomach wouldn’t fit behind the steering wheel, the temperatures would have dropped.
I beeped the door of my black Lexus SUV open and then cranked the motor over, turning the fan of the air conditioning to high, hoping the cool air would relieve my discomfort. I then plugged my phone into the car’s audio system and made my way to the appointment. I loved my car. I loved the feel of the leather, cool against my legs. I loved the smell of the diffuser I plugged into the vents, and I loved the surround sound speakers that pumped music from every corner of the vehicle. Today the radio played the latest song from Ed Sheeran and I cranked the volume up and sang along to the words.
Traffic was light on Saturdays which meant I made my way across town easily. As I stopped for a red light on the corner of Wrigley and Nelson Road, my phone dinged, and a text message pushed Ed Sheeran aside on the screen.
My good mood plummeted as I read the words:
Do you know what your boyfriend is up to?
My phone dinged again. This time an image popped up of Matt laughing along with the woman glued to his side.
Shock caused my hands to grip the steering wheel and my mouth to hang open as I stared at the screen.
Who had sent the message? Who was the woman? And more importantly, where was Matt?
The traffic light turned green and a car horn blasted me, telling me that I needed to move through the intersection. With trembling hands, I pushed the car into gear and moved forward, only stopping again when I could pull safely to the side of the road. I then lifted my phone and zoomed in on the photo.
Matt was smiling as a woman stood next to him, their body language leaning towards more than friends. She was beaming, her eyes bright and alert, enjoying every second of his company, and they were standing out the front of Café on the River, a favorite spot of ours in Westport. An emotion crossing the line between jealousy and betrayal caused a ringing in my ears and a burn in the back of my throat.
I swallowed it down checking for who sent the message. I didn’t recognize the number, but with shaking hands I tapped the screen and tried to call it. Nothing like attacking the problem head on, right? Unfortunately, the number was switched off or not in a reception area as I got the standard voice recording. Ugh.
I gulped before taking three slow deep breaths, and tried to calm my racing thoughts of Matt having an affair. Thinking it all through logically I wondered if the photo held some clue as to who sent it. Zooming in, I noted the smile Matt was wearing like a badge of honor, as if everything in his life was the way it was meant to be. Bile rose into my throat as I moved to the woman. She was beautiful with long red hair, a dazzling smile, looking like she belonged.
But why was I worried? The photo could have been taken before he left. It could have been taken months ago. In fact, it could have been taken long before he met me. Zooming further in, I saw a banner advertising the upcoming Triathlon behind them. I knew we had one coming up in a few weeks’ time, but was this photo taken at last year’s event?
There was only one way to find out. As determination pushed my fear down, I hit my indicator, pulled back into traffic, and headed for the river.
Thankfully the aroma of coffee didn’t upset my noisy stomach, as the second I stepped onto the boardwalk that ran past Café by the River, the scent of coffee filled the air and beckoned me in. This coffee shop was one of the best in Westport. Appropriately named, it sat alongside the aqua blue river, a timber boardwalk running all the way to the beach. The staff here were super friendly, and Tom the barista waved as he saw me approach.
“Hi Molly!”
I waved my hello, as I stepped through the glass door that was folded back allowing transition from outside to inside seamless. I stopped at the counter, a glass cabinet tempting me with many chocolate covered treats. But I wasn’t here for a social event. I was here to check what banners were displayed out the front. Thankfully no one was lining up at the counter waiting to be served.
“You’re looking good today.” Tom grinned and the light crinkles around his eyes deepened. He was pretty cute in the surfer kind of way. He wore his sun-bleached hair tied back in a man bun, his skin glowed with health, and his arms almost rattled with the bead bracelets he wore. As far as I could tell, he was a full-time student despite the fact that I would put him in his late twenties. What he studied was a mystery, but I knew that he loved to grow his own food and was a vegetarian.