Chapters (50)
- Cover
- About the Book
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by Sandie Docker
- Book Club Questions
- Welcome to the Kookaburra Creek Café
- Prologue
- One
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The return run was faster, scarier and more fun. Nicole found herself laughing out loud as they careered downhill back to town. It probably helped that she was more relaxed, having not been dismembered and scattered through the forest.
Danny dropped her home and walked her to the door.
‘Thank you. Today was … I haven’t felt so … in such …’ She coughed, gathering herself. ‘Thank you.’
‘Anytime you want to go back, you just let me know.’
He kissed her on the cheek and heat teased her skin as she watched him walk down the path.
She closed the door behind her, unwanted memories forcing their way forward.
September, Last Year
Time, it seemed, was not Nicky’s friend.
With each passing week, Mark’s stubbornness grew.
He didn’t go to therapy with her. Apparently, he didn’t need some stranger telling him how he felt about things. But he didn’t have any better solutions. His preference was to carry on as if nothing had happened. The only thing he did do was push back their wedding plans. Nicky had been through a lot, after all, and Mark was concerned about what the stress of planning their big day would do to her. She needed time to recover properly, and he would be as patient as she needed.
One night over dinner, when she tried once more to bring up their situation, he groaned heavily. ‘We’ve been over this, Nicky. There’s no point rushing into things. If you don’t take the time to heal properly, emotionally, then where will you be?’
Was he right? Did she need more time to heal, emotionally?
She’d kept trying to write, but to no avail. She’d tried to read. But no book could hold her attention for more than a few pages. She’d even tried to learn to cook. But every recipe turned to disaster. She’d padded around the apartment aimlessly, day after day. Everything she did was tainted with the pain she was carrying in her heart.
But could she let the pain go as Mark seemed to have done so easily?
She stopped therapy after her third session and started visiting her Moreton Bay fig every day. She took her laptop with her and instead of trying to work on her next novel, she decided to try writing about her surroundings – people, pets, trees, detailing the private moments that passed before her.