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“But you must have some sort of community in York.”
“Yes, I suppose…” Laurel thought of her handful of friends, her kindly neighbour. Yes, she did have community, but it wasn’t anything like this, not that she even knew what this was. Like so much in her life, it felt out of reach, a shimmering promise she longed for but couldn’t trust.
The life she’d constructed for herself—her little terraced house, her copyediting work, her cat, her friends—all of it sometimes felt like nothing more than a placeholder, something to pass the time until her real life began. She loved it, she really did, but she’d never thought it would be forever.
But what if it was? What if that was all she’d ever have? What if the magic she’d been waiting for, the hero who was going to sweep her off her feet, never came?
It was a question Laurel had never allowed herself to ask before. It was one she didn’t want to answer now. All her life she’d been waiting. What if that was all her life was?
Goodness, she was sounding maudlin, she realised with a jolt. And she wasn’t even drinking! What was wrong with her? Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and it had been such a pleasant week…
Yet right then she almost felt near tears, and she wasn’t even sure why.
“Laurel?” Archie cupped her elbow with his hand, his touch firm, his palm warm through her jumper. “Are you all right?”
“Yes…” She nodded, a force of habit more than anything else. Of course she was all right. She was always all right. She was a cheerful optimist, always looking on the bright side, always finding that silver lining, or at least searching for it, determined to find it one day…
But what if she didn’t?
“Come on,” Archie said, and, taking her by the elbow, he led her out of the crowded ballroom, and then out of the hotel, into the cold, dark night, the harbour gleaming blackly in front of them, the waterfront still and silent.
Laurel drew a shaky breath. “Zac…”
“Looked like he found some mates. He’ll be fine for a moment.”
“I’m fine…” she protested, all too feebly.
“Are you sure about that?” Archie asked quietly and Laurel leaned back against the hotel’s brick wall, dragging a deep breath of cold, clear air into her lungs.
“I’ve always been fine,” she said, as much to herself as to Archie. “I’m not going to fall apart now.”
“There’s no harm in it, you know.”
“What?” She turned to him in surprise. “Falling apart?”
“A little wobble, at least,” Archie said with one of his grins that creased his face and crinkled his eyes. “You’ve had a hard time of it lately…”
“It’s not that. At least, it’s not just that.” Laurel drew another shuddering breath. “It’s everything. It’s remembering the past and thinking about the future…” The words started to spill out of her, tripping over themselves. “Coming back to Orkney… it’s made me remember all sorts of things. Being a child. Missing Abby. Missing my mum. Wondering why my dad never stepped up once—” She clamped her lips together, because she was afraid if she said anymore, never mind a little wobble, she’d be in absolute pieces.
“All this stuff I didn’t think bothered me anymore. I’d got over it, if I’d ever even needed to. And all that makes me think about the future. What if this is all there is? What if I never find what I’m looking for? What if it doesn’t get any better?” She knew Archie couldn’t answer those questions, and she hated having to ask them. “Don’t mind me, honestly. I’m fine, I really am.” She said the last almost fiercely, turning to practically glare at Archie.
“Ah, lass,” Archie said with a wry smile, “No one’s fine.”
His compassionate gaze was like a hand reaching right into her heart. It hurt. “Not even you?” Laurel asked, a slight wobble to her voice.
“Definitely not me.”
“But you seem so…”
“I make the best of it,” he said with a shrug. “What else can I do? What else can anyone do? And there’s plenty to be grateful for. There almost always is. But those questions… there aren’t any answers. No guarantees, except that life goes on, and maybe, just maybe, there’s a greater purpose in it somewhere, if you believe. But the made-to-order happy ending? Those don’t exist.”
“Don’t they?” Laurel said. “I want them to.”
“I think everyone does, but you’ve got to do the best with what you’re given.”
“What if it’s not enough?” she asked, a bit desperately. “What if it won’t make you happy?”
“Then you need to think about why it won’t, I suppose. Perhaps happiness is right there all along, and you just haven’t seen it.”
