“No, it’s not that.”
“So somethingisbothering you.”
Damn it, I should have chosen my words more carefully. Or I should have waited to zone out and think about Curtis somewhere private.
“Everything’s wonderful, but…”
Sid nods. “I remember that part, too.”
“Part of what?”
“Coming here. The survivor’s guilt. That shit eats you up. Is there anything you want to talk about?”
Yes.
I’m so close to saying it. Maybe this is finally the right time, here where it’s safe and we’re away from the realities of everyday life. I consider telling him every story I can think of about Mum and Dad and Curtis and how I lost each one of them. This is why we came here, isn’t it? To close the gaps in our story and I could fill in a big one right now. But do I want to make myself cry in a public place?
His eyes are fixed on mine. Beneath the table, his fingers slide from his knee, taking one of my hands in his. Another pulse of energy lights up my body.We. We’re a team now. I should tell him.
The words are on the tip of my tongue.
“Sid Charles! Is that you?” A high-pitched voice comes between us with the force of an axe. We spring in opposite directions, hands and legs suddenly tucked safely around our seats.
Sid blinks, scanning the room for the source. “Pardon?”
“Ah! It’s totally you!” A woman by the bar waves, hard to make out in the gloom. “Give me just a sec. I’m going to order a drink, then I’ll be right over.”
“Okay,” Sid calls back. Under his breath, he adds, “Shit.”
“Who is that?” I ask.
Sid gives me a wan smile. “Someone else running for council this year.”
“Interesting! Ally or enemy?”
“Ally, technically,” says Sid. “But… she’s also my ex-girlfriend.”
“Oh, shit.”
“That’s not even the worst part.”
I would ask him what he means, except the woman is making her way to our table. As the light from the windows falls on her, she glimmers, even in the gloom. She’s wearing gold bobby pins in her sleek strawberry blonde hair anda black cowlneck dress made of clean new wool. In other words, she looks like the kind of woman who can afford to eat at a restaurant.
“Oh! You have company. Sorry, you’re like, half his height. I didn’t see you,” she says, laughing apologetically. “I can bother you later, Sid. Enjoy your date.”
“No, come say hi.” Sid rises to greet her. “You two should probably meet.”
“Hello.” I mimic Sid and rise from the table. This is an ex-girlfriend—does that mean I should lean into the charade? It’s probably the safest course. I’m guessing he would have told a real wife about past relationships, so I smile and say, “I’ve heard so much about you!”
“Really?” Her hazel eyes widen. She is the sweetest, prettiest little thing I’ve met since coming to this island. And Sid used to go out with her? He must really be feeling the downgrade.
“Let me introduce you both properly.” Sid places an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “Kayla, meet the famous Amy Sullivan. You can see why Tom wants us to work together, right?”
“Oh, stop!” she laughs and it’s the most perfect tinkling sound I’ve ever heard.
It’s a good thing Sid has an arm around me, because my knees buckle. He was right. Ex-girlfriend is hardly the worst of it.
Standing right in front of us is Tom Sullivan’s daughter.
