‘Like that you forgive him?’
‘I think what I need to do is to ask him to forgiveme.’
‘Why? You did nothing wrong. How could you not have been so devastated you never wanted to see him again after he was responsible for the death of the man you were about to marry?’
‘He was driving the car,’ Sophie said quietly. ‘That didn’t automatically make it his fault.’
‘But there was no other car involved so how could it be anyone else’s fault?’
A question that Hannah had thrown at her more than once as they defended their implacable exclusion of Tom’s closest friend from their lives.
‘I know, but I also know he would have died rather than risk the life of someoneheloved that much.’
‘Like your Tom.’
‘Yes.’
‘Like you,’ Tilly added softly.
Sophie had to blink back the sting of tears. ‘Maybe he did. Once.’ She shook her head. ‘It couldn’t happen then. And maybe it’s too late now. He’s become even more of a lone wolf. I doubt he will ever let anyone really close to him again.’
It was Tilly’s turn to shake her head and she did it with more certainty than Sophie had.
‘But he loved you before he built those walls and that’s the kind of love that never dies. Even if you want it to, it will still burn forever and a day. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, when he thinks no one is noticing, and that’s why I said I knew there was something between you.’ Tilly tilted her head. ‘It’s right that you think of him as a wolf. That’s what he looks like when he looks at you. Like a wolf who is ’owling at the moon.’
Ohh…the imagethatconjured up. A solitary creature. A silhouette on a hilltop in the light of a full moon. Sophie could almost hear the haunting sound of yearning. Or loss.
Yearning for what? Lost love? Freedom, perhaps, from guilt? Or nightmares where the shimmer of sequins was blunted by blood?
It could be a sound to summon power as well. The strength to find a way to make life worthwhile?
Like… helping young people who were up against the same obstacle of disadvantage he’d once faced?
Sophie could feel her heart filling with something like the purest form of pride. It was almost painful, as if there wasn’t room in her chest for how big it was. Luc wasn’t just an honourable man. He was a legend.
The charisma she’d been so aware of since he’d walked back into her life was coming from a space that held the best that humans were capable of being or doing. Luc might not be seeking it but he deserved every ounce of respect – andlove– that came his way.
And then she realised that this burst of pride felt uncomfortably similar to something she wasn’t ready to feel.
Hope…
The kind of hope she could still hear in Tilly’s voice?
‘It’s true passion. The most romantic kind of love that exists.’ Tilly’s sigh was another version of yearning. ‘The kind of love I am determined to find one day for myself. A real man who would slay dragons for me. Who – out of all the women in the world he could choose – wants to be only withme.’
Sophie laughed. Tears were even closer now but she really did feel so much better. Something had been released from a very long captivity inside her soul and it was flying free.
And how could that not feel like hope?
‘You are the most romantic person on earth, Mathilde. I’m so glad you’re my friend.’
They both moved, getting to their feet and straight into an embrace that felt like a renewed seal on their friendship. Like one of those padlocks that lovers closed on to bridge railings before they threw away the key.
Tilly even managed to find a way to reinforce the flutter of hope that Sophie couldn’t bring herself to stifle.
‘Come and look at my photos. I’ve found so many perfect places that someone could propose. See… this one, in St Paul de Vence? Isn’t it gorgeous?’
Sophie knew the sculpture well. Part man, part bird, it was crouched on top of one of the medieval city’s stone ramparts, poised between the land and the sky – its wings widespread in a graceful curve.
