The anniversary weekend had...complicated things.
The point was that her father had not once thought to focus on Autumn the attention he’d spent on Summer. Even when Autumn had asked if she could help, and how she could help, he’d told her she’d be better off elsewhere. She’d realised then that whatever she achieved in her life would have nothing to do with the Bishop family business. The Bishop money would get her foot in the door—and it had, with her father’s start-up contribution to her bakery—but kicking it open would be up to her.
She had her doubts about that though. Still did, if she was being honest. Despite the success of her bakery, she worried something would happen that would take it all away from her. She’d do something wrong. Or people would finally realise she didn’t know what she was doing. That she wasn’t good enough. Her parents had believed that, hadn’t they? They’d put Summer first, so they must have.
It didn’t help that that was how things had gone with Hunter, too. Their relationship had been going well, and suddenly he’d been pulling away from her. She’d tried to talk away the insecurities as she usually did, but, like always, they were valid. Despite her trying to be a good girlfriend. A perfect girlfriend.
She was still doing it. Trying to be the perfect friend. What she couldn’t figure out was why. She had nothing to prove to Hunter any more. They were friends because he’d approached her after their break-up. She hadn’t been desperately chasing after him. In fact, she knew a friendship with him was a bad idea. And his situation with his baby? This request? It proved that. Because she knew it would bring her nothing but pain.
So why had she agreed to help?
‘Autumn. Autumn.’
Autumn’s eyes widened before they settled on Mandy.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘Did you hear a word I said?’ Mandy poured herself a cup of coffee. ‘Or are you too busy thinking about Hunter?’
‘I’m tired,’ Autumn replied prudishly. ‘And not for that reason,’ she said when Mandy opened her mouth. ‘I didn’t have much rest over the weekend.’
‘Was your parents’ anniversary that good?’
‘Yeah,’ Autumn said. ‘It was touch and go for a moment. Some other time,’ she told Mandy with a wave of her hand, ‘but they’re still in love. It’s nauseating.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Mandy said, her expression dreamy. ‘I think it’s brilliant. Two old people, still in love after all these years.’
‘My parents are not old.’
Mandy stared at her.
‘They’re older,’ Autumn conceded, ‘and, trust me, it’s less appealing when your mother and father are sticking their tongues down each other’s throats.’
Mandy pulled a face. ‘Ugh.’
‘Exactly.’ She paused, and when the thought popped in her mind, Autumn went with it. ‘Could you keep an eye on things for a few hours?’
‘Sure.’ Mandy frowned. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah. I thought I’d try and catch an hour of sleep before I switch the sugar with salt in a batch of cupcakes.’
Mandy winced. ‘You don’t have to keep bringing that up, you know. I felt bad enough when it happened.’
‘Me too, considering I can still taste it.’ She mock shuddered, and then laughed when Mandy mimicked throwing something at her. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll only bring it up until you do something similarly atrocious.’
Mandy glowered at her, and Autumn grinned.
See, a voice in her head told her, you can do this. You can totally pretend like your brain isn’t malfunctioning and your heart isn’t questioning your sanity.
Except she wasn’t sure how sustainable it was. It felt as if she was offering Mandy a fake shiny version of herself that would crack if anyone stared at it too long.
‘I’ll see you later,’ Autumn said, taking her apron off and grabbing her purse and keys.
‘Don’t think you got away from the Hunter question,’ Mandy called after her.
Autumn’s shoulders immediately tightened. She didn’t bother turning around, just lifted a hand in a wave and left Mandy to speculate.
She didn’t mind Mandy’s curiosity. They weren’t simply friends because they worked together. Mandy didn’t ever question who Autumn was, or seem to expect anything from her. Autumn didn’t have to worry about being on, though most of the time, she couldn’t help it.
She was always playing a role. Perfect daughter. Perfect sister. Perfect girlfriend. And asking herself questions: what did her mother, sister, boyfriend need from her? Who did she need to be to provide it?
The problem with it was that she was consistently putting others first. More significantly, she was placing herself last. Just like with the situation with Hunter, she knew what moulding herself to other people’s needs would bring her. Disappointment when they didn’t see her, appreciate her. Hurt when their actions told her they didn’t value her efforts.
And just like with Hunter, she couldn’t figure out why she still did it.
She gritted her teeth, pausing to catch her breath. Seconds later she realised she’d reached her house. She looked up at the tall white building with the dark wooden frames. After years, it still made her happy. Her steps crunched on the white pebbled pathway, and she tried to let the roses along it calm her as she made her way to her patio.
It was a simple pleasure, standing there and looking at the city she’d grown up in. Buildings of various colours looked back at her, along with Table Mountain in the far distance, and bodies of water and houses. If she looked to the left, she could see the green grass spilling over the inclines and declines of her property. If she walked in that direction, she’d be able to see the river she could sometimes hear at night.
She took a deep breath and settled down on one of the recliners she’d bought for the pool. Her body sighed in relief. It felt as if it had been in a fight. Or perhaps it felt as if it was preparing for an onslaught. She’d barely got any sleep the night before, the thought of Hunter in the other room too much of a distraction. The memory of what he’d told her too much of a disturbance.
I’m a father.
She wanted to take those words and crumple them up. Throw them down at the city she loved so much. They filled her with so much pain, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. Was it because they symbolised something she would never have? Certainly not with him. Or was it because they confirmed that he’d moved on from her?
She had no right to be upset about it. He hadn’t cheated on her. They’d broken up. And while she’d stayed on her couch for weeks, crying about a man she’d thought would fulfil the perfect plans she’d had for them, he’d been giving someone else everything she’d wanted.
Autumn.
She sighed, knocked her head lightly against the headrest of the recliner. She couldn’t help him if she felt like this. Since she’d already agreed to it, she didn’t have much choice now. She would just be...cautious. She would try and protect herself.
Though she wasn’t sure how she was going to do it, she was content with realising she had to. Content enough to close her eyes and sleep as the sun’s rays touched her legs.
* * *
Grace would be bringing Eli, his son, over in an hour. He paced the room, the thought of it, the realisation