Page 73 of The Orchard at Rosevale
‘Love is inexplicable.’ Jesse shrugged. ‘We had been together for almost thirty years.’
That meant Mac and Jesse had got together not long after she’d had Cruz. Three decades of Mac loving this man then coming home to her. Thirty years of duplicity. She remembered Mac taking off for a business trip just before Cruz was born and again about three months after. When he returned, he’d been happier. Paying more attention to her—except in the bedroom—lavishing Cruz with cuddles, even changing his nappy on occasion. But as the year progressed and Cruz turned one, Mac had steadily withdrawn from both of them, probably coinciding with his ongoing feelings for Jesse and having to hide them.
‘And you were content only having him for snatched weekends here and there over all that time?’
‘When we were together, time was irrelevant.’
What a foolish romantic. Ferne wanted to tell him he was an idiot, that the relationship they’d had was an illusion, because Mac had been with Roger too. But what would be the point? She’d gain little satisfaction from hurting this man. She wanted to put this sordid mess behind her, not be dogged by guilt if she ruined Jesse’s memories of the man who had apparently been his one true love.
Jesse clasped his hands and she noticed the many knife scars from slicing and dicing in a kitchen.
‘Can I ask why you wanted to meet face to face?’
‘I’m not sure. Maybe I thought confronting you would ease my resentment?’
‘Has it?’
‘A little.’ But only because she realised Mac had kept Jesse in the dark too, so they were both idiots. ‘I think I wanted answers because I can’t ask Mac.’
‘I don’t think I can give you the answers you seek.’ Jesse pressed the pads of his fingers to his eyes as if staving off tears, before lowering his hands. ‘I came to see you because I thought you deserved better than to be deceived by your husband. It’s not fair, what he put you through. And while I’m not making excuses for him, he told me that coming out in the small town where the farm was his livelihood wasn’t an option for him.’ He shook his head. ‘I felt sorry for him and you.’
‘I don’t need your sympathy,’ she snapped. ‘I needed the truth years ago when I could’ve had a different life. I could’ve had a man who loved me wholeheartedly, who wanted me as more than a business manager. Instead, I gave up everything for a lying, cheating bastard.’ Her chest heaved as years of recriminations bubbled out. ‘I put up with his moods, his disinterest, hisdisdain, all because I wanted to ensure my son inherited the farm. But if I’d known the truth, we could’ve come to some type of arrangement. Don’t you see? You’re as complicit in ruining my life as he was.’ She flung her arms wide. ‘This is where you conducted your relationship, isn’t it?’
After the merest hesitation, Jesse nodded, having the grace to appear sheepish.
‘I didn’t even know Mac owned this apartment. I scrimped and saved over the years to keep the farm in the black, and all the while, he shacked up here with you on his frequent weekends away.’ She pressed a hand to her chest. ‘How do you think that makes me feel?’
Her voice had risen as she struggled to rein in her anger. She curled her fingers into her palm before stretching them out, wondering if the tingling indicated some bizarre neurological condition brought on by fury or if she just needed to breathe.
‘I understand there’s nothing I can say to change this situation or make things better for you, but know this: There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not consumed by guilt and regret for what Mac, and in turn I, put you through.’ He stood and reached out his hand as if to shake hers, before thinking better of it. ‘I’m so sorry, Ferne. So, so sorry.’
Tears welled in her eyes and her throat tightened. She’d been right. Nothing Jesse could say would make the pain go away. But confronting him had loosened the tight ball of resentment inside and maybe, with time, she could heal.
When she didn’t answer him, Jesse gave a brief nod and walked to the door, where he paused and glanced over his shoulder.
‘For what it’s worth, I wish you all the happiness in the world, because you deserve it,’ he said, before letting himself out.
CHAPTER
39
Cruz hated social media—more so after his unexpected viral moment that had cost the farm a major client—but it came in handy at times. Like now.
The moment he hung up from chatting with his mother, he did an online search for Jesse Lee. The guy had a Facebook and Instagram profile, both set to private, and his profile pics were the restaurant logo for Lee’s House of Fusion. Their website featured the usual generic photos of menu dishes and a brief spiel about cooking being in the Lee family for generations, but no pictures of staff. Not that Cruz needed to see yet more proof of his father’s double life, but curiosity got the better of him. What he couldn’t fathom was how a sombre man like his father had charmed two men into wanting him.
With Roger, it may have been convenience, because Cruz could imagine how difficult it might be to find a hook-up in a small country town. And with the two of them being best mates, nobody would question them spending time together.
But Jesse lived in Melbourne and Mac must’ve made an effort to see him, which meant the cook meant a lot to him. More than his own family. The thought that his father had cheated on his mother with not just one man but two gutted him. She didn’t deserve that.
He’d order her some flowers to be delivered; as a cheer-up for her ankle too. She’d left the apartment’s address on a notepad in the study, along with careful instructions for every software app she used to manage the farm.
His phone rang as he sat at his desk. Unknown number.
‘Cruz Wardlow,’ he said, his usual perfunctory greeting when he didn’t know the caller.
‘Cruz, Larry Ludwig.’
Cruz sat up straighter. Larry didn’t need an introduction. He owned one of the largest fruit and vegetable distributors on the east coast.
