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“And I don’t know. He wants to get back together, and I’m giving him a chance to share his side of things with me. But I still don’t have a fixed idea of what that will mean for us long term.”
“Do you still love him?”
“I love him as my husband of twenty-five years and the father of our children. But I’m not sure I’m stillinlove with him, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Okaaaaayyy.” He was clearly not satisfied with her answer and was unsure how to ask for more without being rude or crossing a line. She wished he’d simply jump over the line and push her for an answer.
She sighed. “I’m sorry I can’t be more upfront with you. But I suppose it only matters to you if… Well, if…”
“Yes?”
“If you’re more to me than a friend.”
His voice was deep and soft. “I was beginning to think that’s where we were headed. Now I don’t know. I don’t want to get in the way of your reconciliation with your husband. But I’m sitting here, on the island, alone and missing you, wondering if I’ll ever see you again.”
His words made her head spin. It was more than she’d expected. She couldn’t believe Aidan Whitlock wanted to date her. She was a frumpy housewife who’d spent years honing the skill of keeping people out of her heart and avoiding true intimacy.
She’d never have believed this would happen if she’d said it to herself a year ago, but if there was one thing she’d learned in recent weeks, it was that she needed to open herself up to connection even if there was a chance she’d be hurt. Because the hurt could come either way, and in the meantime, she and her loved ones were missing out on knowing who she really was.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. I wanted to get that off my chest. Now I have. You don’t owe me anything—we haven’t even spoken about this before. I’d much rather have had this conversation in person, but things being what they are, I suppose this is what we’ve got to work with. All I will ask is this—will you come back to the island sometime, no matter what the outcome of your counselling and reconciliation attempt, so we can talk for real? I think we owe it to each other to say the words face-to-face.”
She sighed. “Yes, of course. I fully intend to come back to Coral Island. It’s all I can think about lately. I miss it there too, and I miss you, of course. I know I shouldn’t say that, but I can’t help it.”
There was a smile around his words. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ll leave you alone, then. Let me know when you’re coming home. We’ll set a time to meet and talk.”
She immediately called a moving company and arranged for them to transport her belongings from the storage facility to Coral Island the following week.
When she hung up the phone, she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. She stood to her feet and hurried back around the net. Then she slammed the first tennis ball that came her way directly over the net.
Eighteen
It wasa Thursday four weeks later, and Bea had never been so bored in all her life. She didn’t have to clean the guesthouse because a cleaner came every Wednesday. The family had taken their dogs with them, so there were no pets to feed or care for. A gardener came twice a week to manage the landscaping and garden beds. And Harry was back into the swing of his semester, so he didn’t have time for more than a couple of catch-ups per week.
Apart from her counselling sessions, she was completely at a loss for anything to do. She decided to get dressed up and catch the train into the city to surprise Preston for lunch. There was an amazing German restaurant on Darling Harbour that they both loved — Preston had always raved about the salted pretzels, and she loved the sauerkraut.
She called and made a reservation at the restaurant, styled her hair with a curling iron—something she rarely ever spent the time to do—put on makeup and her favourite warm suit with a pair of flats, and headed for the train station on one of the bicycles stored in the garage.
As she wobbled down the road, hunched over the handlebars, she was reminded of one of her first dates with Preston. They were so young when they met, neither one of them owned a car. He’d showed up at her dorm on his bicycle. She’d fetched her own bike from the garden shed, and they’d gone riding together through the tangled city streets.
They’d ended up in a park. She’d come off the bike and grazed her knees on some gravel. He’d lovingly washed the blood away with some water from his drink bottle and the bottom of his T-shirt. She’d never wanted the day to end.
Now she was on a bike once again, headed to town to surprise him. It was romantic and nostalgic, and she hoped he would be there. She should’ve thought to ask him about his schedule. He was in the Melbourne office some days and the Sydney office on other days. Thursday was a Sydney day, she was fairly sure, but not entirely certain. Even if he wasn’t there, it would be nice to take a wander in the city and grab some lunch. If she stayed at the guesthouse any longer, she’d be certifiable by sunset.
The train ride into the city was uneventful. It was warmer out of the wind, and Bea peered out the window, imagining herself back on Coral Island, sitting on the cottage’s front porch with a book in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. Perhaps she should return to the island for a week, just to get things in order with regards to the cottage and the café.
If she and Preston were going to make things work, would she have to give up the café? She hated to let it go. She finally felt as though she was doing something for herself, and now she wouldn’t get the chance. She could try to convince Preston to move to Coral Island. She wasn’t sure how that would work and couldn’t imagine him living there.
She caught the elevator up to Preston’s office and decided to bypass the busy receptionist with a telephone pressed to her ear. Instead, she hurried along the hallways, past the giant wall of windows that overlooked the harbour. Preston’s office door was ajar, and his assistant wasn’t in her usual seat. Bea walked to the door and gently pushed on it. She was about to call out his name when she heard his voice and fell silent. He was probably on the phone. She could let herself in to sit on the couch and wait for him to finish up whatever he was working on.
“I know it’s a pain, but we’ve got to do this for the sake of our family.”
Bea’s ears pricked. Who was he talking to? A woman’s voice murmured.
“I know, my darling,” Preston replied, his voice muffled. “It’s not long now. Everything will be sorted out very soon. I need a little time—that’s all. You and the baby can go back to Melbourne and wait for me there. I won’t be far behind.”
The door swung open. Preston stood at the far end of the office, his arms around a woman. It was Geri. She rested her head against Preston’s chest, her red hair spilling over his shoulder and down his back. Her green eyes popped open at the sound of Bea’s gasp. She stepped away from Preston and reached for a pram that stood nearby.
