“I said some prettyterrible things. He’ll never forgive me. It’s too late.” Chloeclosed her eyes tight, and shook her head, misery written all overher face.
“It’s never too lateif you love him. Don’t let pride get in the way. You can apologiseand hope he’ll forgive you. I guess you have to ask yourself if youare willing to take a risk. Only you can answer that.”
Chloe tried calling his mobilephone as she drove into the city. It diverted to voicemail again.There was no way she was leaving a voicemail. What she had to sayto Todd was best said face to face.
The traffic had increased sinceher drive this morning. Weaving in and out of cars was a habit shehad not adopted. Until today. A few motorists honked their horns ather as she squeezed between lanes, but she had only one thing onher mind, and she shrugged them off like flies at apicnic.
If only she could getto the apartment and talk to Todd. Explain how foolish she hadbeen, and that she didn’t believe in her heart of hearts that hecould be responsible. Maybe, just maybe, he would listen to her.They could discuss it like two rational individuals.They might even see the funny sideeventually. No, that wastoo much to hope for.
She tried his phone again severaltimes, to no avail. When she pulled into the underground parkinggarage at Docklands and spotted his car, a sliver of hope wedged inbetween the anxiety and fear in her stomach.
She unlocked the apartment door,took a deep breath and called out to him. “Todd. Todd?” No oneanswered. Of course the car was in the garage. He would have takena cab to the airport.
She strode through the apartmentand noticed his room looked a little less organised than usual.“He’s packed in a hurry. Couldn’t wait to get out of Melbourne andaway from me, obviously.” She plonked down on the edge of the bed,her elbows on her knees, her head bent, defeated. If she didn’ttalk to him today, the hurt and anger could grow bigger by thehour.
A notepad poked out from underthe bed. In his haste to rip off the page it must have fallen onthe floor. When she held it up to the light, she could make out theQantas flight number and a time, pressed into the paper. Of course.He would have had to change his flight. She checked her watch. Shemight make it if she hurried.
Chloe rushed throughthe terminal doors and up the elevator, stopping briefly to checkthe arrivals board. The flight for Sydneyflashed. Boarding.Her stomach churned. She tried his mobile phone again. It went tovoicemail and she hung up.
She skirted past a man pushing atrolley, and narrowly missed knocking over a toddler and a pregnantwoman before making her way towards the security scans.
She threw her handbag and walkingstick on the conveyor belt, and hurtled through the barrier. Thealarm shrieked.
“Go back, madam.” Aburly man in uniform stepped forwards.
“I have metal pins inmy leg.”
“Go back, madam, andtry again.” He folded his arms over his wide chest, brooking noargument.
The alarm sounded again. By thistime, the people behind her were sighing and fidgeting. Anotherfemale security guard approached with a wand to run it up and downher leg. As expected the wand, located the screws and metal platein her thigh. He shot her a look, which clearly portrayed “don’tsay I told you so, or I will hold you up for another tenminutes”.
She managed a polite smile. Heallowed her to pass. She grabbed her handbag and walking stick fromthe conveyor belt and headed off down the corridor to Gate20.
“Why did it have to beGate 20?” Chloe sighed, pushing her brisk walk to a half trot,using her walking stick to propel herself along, and hopping on andoff the people movers when she could.
A deserted lounge and closeddoors at Gate 20 stopped her in her tracks.
CHAPTERTWENTY TWO
Chloe pulled up onBeach Road, opposite the burnt-out shell of her house. Theblackened chimney and charred remains appeared desolate, and asbroken as her heart. Nothing could compensate for the loss of herhome and all her worldly possessions. ButTodd had tried. In the past few weeks, hehad put all of his energy and attention into making things right,into creating a home and a future for her … and what had she done…thrown it in his face. She ran her fingertips over thegold tennis bracelet he had given her on theirfirst date. His first gesture of love. A band of gold, symbolisinghis commitment.
The moment the words had eruptedfrom her lips she had regretted them. There could be no turningback though, and the hurt look on his face would be etched into hermemory for a long time to come. Her accusations, the venom in hervoice, the few seconds the world stood still before he disappearedand the air ignited around her, played like a DVD movie on repeat.What on earth had possessed her?
The day had turnedbitterly cold, but Chloe seemed oblivious as she got out of the carand veered towards the ocean. Her feet sank into the damp sand asshe trudged to the water’s edge. Dense storm clouds gathered aboveher. The ominous roll of thunder in the distance signalled awarning of things to come. After a few seconds, the jagged silverflash of lightning split the darkening sky. A storm’s coming.
At times of stress, she soughtout the water, which had always calmed her. The ocean, the waves,no matter how choppy, connected her to the earth, connected her toher past, were supposed to connect her to her future. A future shecould see disintegrating before her eyes.
I’ve been such afool.
Silent tears began the slowjourney down her cheeks. The heavens opened. Rain drops, as big aspebbles, bounced off her shoulders and fell all around her. Herwhite shirt and blue jeans became drenched, her hair plastered toher head. The water dripped
