Bodie licked his lips. “It’ll be okay, you know. It always is.”
Izzie snorted. “Not like you to be the eternal optimist. You’re usually the little rain cloud on the picnic.”
“Not always.” Bodie swallowed. “And I’m hoping it’s true, that things do always work out okay.”
“Any particular reason?” Izzie silenced, sensing tension across the huge physical distance. “What’s happened?”
Bodie took a deep breath. “I’ve messed up, Iz. I’ve messed up bad.”
“Work or personal?”
“Both. I’m trying to sort it out, but I’m years too late, Iz. I don’t know if I can.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
“Maybe. But not now. I feel raw. I can’t sleep. Mum went to bed hours ago and I’ve almost finished painting her kitchen.”
He heard his sister’s smile in her voice. “Being busy helps, bro’. Take it from someon
