He walks over to the ute and opens the passenger door, waiting for me to get in. I hesitate, but there’s no point arguing when he’s in a mood. The door closes the moment I’m inside, and Hunter’s scent swallows me whole. Memories pour in like floodwater. I’m eighteen again, desperate for a glimpse of him at the lockers.
The driver door opens, and Hunter climbs in. ‘Couldn’t find a job at a shoe shop?’
I put my seat belt on. ‘I happen to like it there. Everyone’s really nice.’
‘Yeah. You’ve mentioned that.’ He checks the rear-view mirror before pulling out. ‘Why do you want to hang around a place like that?’
‘I just explained why.’ I sneak a glance at him. ‘Bridget says you’re working as a farmhand at a cattle farm. What’s your boss like?’
‘Nice—for a very different reason to yours.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He meets my eyes briefly. ‘Guys like that will 100 percent take advantage of girls like you.’
‘Girls like me?’
He changes lanes. ‘Naive girls.’
I lean my head back and look at the roof. ‘You sound ridiculous. Jealous.’
‘Of the guy who’s the same age as your father?’
I shake my head and look out the window. ‘I’m not fighting with you again.’
He taps the steering wheel with his thumb. ‘We need to talk eventually.’
‘About what?’
He breathes out. ‘I’m trying here, Wilson.’
Now he’s trying. ‘Your efforts might be a little late. Maybe you should’ve tried saying goodbye before skipping town.’
He’s quiet a moment. ‘I’d hoped you’d understand by now why I left the way I did. It had to be that way.’
I ignore the thickening in my throat. ‘I saw you on the bus. The day you left.’
He gives me a confused look.
‘I shouted your name, over and over. I chased that bus down the street.’ I take a moment to rein in the emotion bubbling up. ‘And you didn’t even look back.’
He swallows. ‘I didn’t see you.’
‘Would it have made a difference if you had?’
There’s a small pause before he says, ‘No.’
We fall silent for the rest of the trip.
When he pulls up in front of the apartment building, I reach for the door handle, and he reaches for me. It’s the first time he’s touched me in fourteen months, and I’m anchored by it.
‘If you don’t want to see or talk to me anymore, that’s your choice,’ he says. ‘You can absolutely choose that. And you can think I’m a shit son, that I was an arsehole to your boss back there. That’s valid. But what you don’t get to do is be pissed off at me for leaving. It was the right thing to do. Leaving you at that time was the right thing to do. Staying away, not calling, letting you get to this point on your own, was the right thing to do.’
I’m limp in my seat. ‘You completely abandoned me.’
He shakes his head. ‘No, I waited for you.’
His hand is warm on my arm, his touch painfully familiar. It would be so easy to fall into old ways. ‘Please don’t lie to my face. I’m not strong enough.’