Freya looked at her feet, unable to bear the incredible compassion in Ash’s eyes. “Yes.”
“That’s going to come to an end, Freya.”
She looked back up then. “Oh?”
His blue eyes were steady, warm. “Yes. She wants to make that clear. It’s not going to be easy, though.”
“Life rarely is, in my experience.”
“It’s going to get harder before it gets easier.” He brought his hands together and then parted them. “She’s showing you at a fork in the road. Which path you take now is your decision. Down this one—” he lifted his right hand, “—things carry on as they always have. It’s the path of captivity. The left is the path of freedom.”
“What should I do?”
He considered the question. “The decision is yours, as always. But if you continue to feed Harry’s habit, you’re not going to get the freedom you really want.”
She bit her lip. “I know.”
“You have to be strong, Freya.”
“It’s easier than it sounds.”
“Yeah, I know. But if you want to achieve your dreams, you’re going to have to be hard. It’s not pleasant, but it’s the old adage, you know, ‘Spare the rod, spoil the child’.”
“Except that it’s not my child, it’s my dad.”
“Yeah. That sucks.”
She looked at her hands. “You’re right, I know. But…I worry about my mum.”
Ash tipped his head. “She made her choice, just as you must make yours. She didn’t have to marry your father, and she didn’t have to stay with him. She loves him, Freya, in spite of everything.”
He frowned and studied her for a moment. “I think…” He thought again, and she could see him having a conversation in his head again. “Hmm.”
“What?”
“Your aunt told me something. I asked her whether I should tell you, and she says I should.”
Freya swallowed, but squared her chin. “Tell me.”
He gave her a sympathetic look. “Your parents’ relationship…it gets physical sometimes.”
She bit her lip again. “Yeah, I thought it might.”
“Your aunt is telling me it’s not all one sided. Your mother gives as good as she gets, you know.”
“I guess that’s something,” Freya said bitterly.
He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.”
“It’s not,” he said. “And it’s okay to be angry about it.”
Tears welled up in her eyes again. She put her face in her hands for a moment. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be. You’ve had a tough time, and you’ve put up with more than many people would have done.”
She looked up at him, her face wet. “I’m weak, Ash. I know I shouldn’t give in to him, but I can’t help it. I don’t know how to get out of it.”
He nodded. “Your aunt’s telling me that you’re strong. That you have the strength to do it. She’s telling me it will be worth it.”
Freya shook her head. She couldn’t see how she would ever be strong enough to throw off the burden of her parents.
Ash tipped his head. “She’s showing me children.”
“Whose children?”
“Yours, should you choose to have them.”
She stared at him. “Oh.”
“There’s a girl, with blonde hair, very like yours. She’s bright, a bit bossy. She loves animals and looking after them—I think she may turn out to be a vet or something.”
“Oh,” Freya said again. A little girl?
“And there’s a boy. He’s got dark hair, quite curly. He’s a little imp, very mischievous, clever too, very good with his hands, with making things, you know? And I think there may be a third, but that’s a few years away.” He focussed on her again and smiled.
Freya was gobsmacked. “I’m definitely going to have kids?”
Ash leaned back in his chair and sighed. “The future isn’t set in stone. There are a million possibilities, thousands of roads to travel. Our relatives, the ones who watch over us, try to offer us their help and guidance, and they put opportunities our way. Give us a little push sometimes to make us take notice. But ultimately, the choice is ours. I’ve known people who’ve had potentially glowing futures presented to them, but who also have a self-destruct button in their personality. For example, a woman may come to me who’s worried that her husband’s having an affair. I may tell her that he isn’t, and that I can see the possibility of a happy future for her, but if she then goes home to her husband and every time he walks out of the house, she’s demanding to know where he’s going… Well, that relationship isn’t going to have a happy ending, you see? The possibility’s there, but the decision of whether to make it happen is ultimately yours.”
Freya nodded. “I see. But…you can see children for me, and…marriage?”
He smiled. “Yes. There’s marriage and a happy ever after for you.”
This was awkward. How did she ask him without asking? “Is it…”
His eyes were warm. “Mm?”
She blushed. “You know what I’m asking.”
He laughed then. “Sorry. I’m teasing you. He’s all around you, Freya.”
“What do you mean?”
“When two people are involved, their energy remains in the other person’s aura even when you part. Like how smoke clings to you when you leave a bar.”
“We’re not involved,” she said, breathless.
He raised an eyebrow. “I think we both know that’s not true.”
“It’s…it’s only sex, Ash.”
“Yeah,” he said, “that’s what Grace and I said. And look what happened to us.”
She bit her lip. “I don’t know what to think. I like him—obviously I do. But I’ve got to sort out this thing with my father, and then I really wanted to travel, maybe work abroad.”
“That’s still a possibility.”
“And Nate… Well, you know Nate. He’s scared. He doesn’t want a relationship.”
Ash sat forward again then, elbows on his knees, linking his hands. He studied them for a moment before looking up at her. “Your aunt is saying again, ‘It won’t be easy.’ If you want him, Freya, you’re going to have to fight for him. He is screwed up, there’s no doubt about it. I think he’s told you the majority of what happened to him in the past.”
“Yes. Most of it. I’m sure there’s something he’s holding back.”
He didn’t look surprised and nodded. “Maybe. I’m sure he’ll tell you, in time.”
“But you know what it is.”
He gave her a steady look. “Even if I did, I couldn’t tell you.”
“No.” She looked down, ashamed. “Sorry.”
“Freya, look. As I said, I can’t sit here and tell you your future. I can’t predict what Nate is going to do, what he’s going to say or feel. If he’ll ever be able to come to terms with his past. I can only tell you possibilities. But he feels very strongly for you.”
Her heart swelled. “Really?”
He smiled. “Really. If he’s going to make it with anyone, it’s going to be you. I’ve not seen him like this with anyone else before.”
“Oh.” She bit her lip.
“There’s a brighter future out there for you, Freya. Adventure and love, marriage, children. Freedom. Everything you’ve wanted. But it doesn’t come cheap. You’ve had it hard up until now, and it’s only going to get harder. Only you can know how much you want this, and what you’re prepared to do to get it.”
“I understand.” Her head was whirling. “I don’t know…I’m not sure how strong I am.”
He considered the question, and then grinned. “Your aunt is showing me the Incredible Hulk.”
Freya laughed even as she wiped away tears. “That figures. She loved Edward Norton.”
He smiled. “They’re with you, Freya. Celebrating the good times. And they’ll be with you when times are hard. Ask for their help and their support, and they’ll give it. Ask them for guidance, and they’ll give it. You have to watch out for the signs. Some people call it gut instinct, some intuition, but often it’s our friends and relatives trying to show us the way. Let them help you, and you won’t go far wrong.”
Freya reached out and took his hand. “Thank you, Ash. I really appreciate it.”
He squeezed her fingers before releasing them. “He’s crazy about you, honey. Just crazy. He thinks about you all the time. You’re exactly what he needs. You’ve just got to be patient. He knows you’re the one, and he’ll get there, if you’re prepared to wait.”
Chapter Sixteen
It was raining, which made Nate think about the thunderstorm two weeks before and Freya in her white nurse’s uniform.
Not even that image could bring a smile to his lips, however, which showed how bad things were.
He hovered in the foyer of Te Papa—The Museum of New Zealand in the heart of Wellington, overlooking Lambton Harbour. His stomach was tight and knotted, and he felt sick. It took all his self-control not to turn and walk straight out. But he’d promised Ash he’d do this. And deep down, he knew he had to start facing up to his past. He wasn’t going to be able to move forward until he did.
Moving forward made him think of Freya again, and this time he did smile, if a little wryly. He leaned against a pillar and rested his head on the cool concrete. His feelings for her were rainbow bright compared to the murky emotions everything in his past invoked, but she was caught in the tangled web of his thoughts and feelings, and he had to keep her separate. And the only way to do that was to try to rid himself of the burden of the past.
He saw Aidan through the glass doors as soon as he walked along the pathway to the museum. He looked no different, in spite of the three years that had passed, his dark hair long and curly, wearing the same old black jeans and scruffy T-shirt. Aidan pushed through the doors and walked into the foyer, then stood and looked around. Nate hesitated. Old, familiar feelings of rage and hurt reared up inside him. He twitched, desperate to turn and walk away.
But then he thought of Freya. She was part of his present, not his tarnished, disastrous past. To claim her completely, he was going to have to cleanse himself of that past. He wanted her. And that gave him strength to go through with it.
He walked forward, across the huge tiled foyer, toward his brother. Aidan turned and saw him, and his eyes widened.
“You came,” Aidan said as Nate stopped in front of him.
Nate studied him, relaxing his gaze, unable to resist the temptation to study his brother’s aura. It swirled with dark colours, purples and reds. Aidan was nervous, and for some reason that made him feel better. “Yeah, I’m here. Want to grab a coffee?” Unable to keep the stiffness out of his voice, he gestured to the in-house café, and Aidan nodded. Silently they walked over and ordered a couple of lattes, carrying them to a table in the corner.
They took seats on opposite sides of the table. Nate leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee, determined not to show Aidan how petrified this meeting had made him. Aidan leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Nate, his coffee forgotten.
“How have you been?” Aidan asked.
“Fine,” said Nate. He wasn’t about to tell his brother what a broken mess he’d been. Well, still was.
“So, Wellington eh?” Aidan glanced around the café. “Do you like it here?”
“The café?”
For the first time, Aidan’s mouth curved. “The city.”
“Yeah. It’s cool. Busy. Big enough to get lost in.”
Aidan studied him. “I know. It’s taken me three years to find you.”
“How
did
you find me?”
“I hired a private detective.” Aidan’s blue eyes were cool. “I wanted to find you. You are my brother, after all.”
Nate said nothing. He sipped his coffee. But his insides twisted with panic.
Aidan looked down at his cup as if seeing it for the first time. He picked up his spoon and trailed it through the fern shape the barista had drawn in the foam on the top. “Aren’t you going to ask how Mum and Dad are?”
Nate wiped foam from his lip. “How’s Mum?”
Aidan met his gaze. Clearly Nate’s distinction hadn’t been lost on him. “She’s fine. She misses you.”
Nate looked down then. Loss and regret surged through him at the thought of what his mother must have gone through when he disappeared. He pushed it away. “What have you been up to?” he asked instead. “You at varsity?”
“Auckland, studying engineering.” Aidan frowned. “You’re really not going to ask?”
“About what?”
“About Dad?”
He studied his cup. His stomach churned. In spite of his resolution to put his past behind him, to try to make peace with his family, to do better for Ash and for Freya, suddenly he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t act as if he cared, as if the past few years had never happened. “No.”
Aidan’s frown deepened. He let the spoon fall onto the saucer with a clunk and sat back in his seat. “He’s sick.”
Coldness slid down inside Nate as if he’d swallowed an ice cube. “I don’t want to know.”
“He loves you, bro. He’s always loved you. He did everything out of love.”
“Bullshit.” Anger surged through Nate, turning the icy coldness white hot. “Love is kind and compassionate and warm. It’s not cold and calculating. Not cruel and merciless.”