‘Tara, I—’
‘Let me finish,’ she told Alex. ‘After that, I bought a ticket to Heathrow and I left. Didn’t tell anyone I was going. Christ, I was so lost. Thankfully I’d made enough money to get help, which took eight months and a lot of crying.’
She paused, staring into her cup. ‘Aiden was the first real connection I made after rehab. He used to drive me to therapy groups, hang out in my flat, take me to gigs when I felt low.’
‘Tara, I’m—’
Her eyes met Alex’s. ‘Aiden said that when he met you it was love at first sight. Did you feel the same?’
Alex nodded. ‘There was definitely something there, but when he arrived here, with you… We both tried to fight it but… ugh, what a disaster. I’m so sorry.’
‘I’m sorry too,’ Tara replied.
Alex squinted in confusion. ‘For what?’
‘Um, did you hear the Niall Doyle story?’
She heard Becky laugh.
‘But I had no right to put my hands on you. I just felt like everything was falling apart again; I didn’t mean to hurt you.’
Alex reached over and placed her hand over hers. ‘I never meant to hurt you either.’’
The sea lapped gently against the shore as they held each other, while three feet away, a pair of perfectly good shoes continued to burn.
