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“I’ll have a chocolate milkshake, please,” I order and hope she recognises me.
“Sure.” Her smile is courteous, and she sets about fixing my drink.
“You don’t recognise me, do you?” I ask when she places my tall glass down in front of me.
“Should I?”
“We met earlier. Outside. No sand or water now.” I hold out my arms for her to look, which I’m glad she does.
“The surfer.”
“The surfer.” I give her my best fucking smile and take my milkshake out to the benches overlooking the beach.
This holiday is looking a hell of a lot finer now.
CHAPTER3
ZENNOR
Now
Ialways told myself not to get attached to a man. Or, at least, never feel like a man is what you need to feel fulfilled. And with Derek, I thought I had found the perfect match. He didn’t question my ambition or feel threatened by it. There was no competition in our relationship, and I trusted him.
Was it the most dynamic?
No. But you can’t have fireworks all the time, right? Butterflies in the stomach, a pounding heart, and breathlessness aren’t realistic expectations after a given time. That’s a childish fantasy—a dream—and one that I buried a long time ago.
Derek was my partner.
And what he did to me was worse than break my heart. He broke my business.
He systematically tore apart what I’d worked for years to build, and he made a fool out of me in the process. Divorcing me took balls I never knew Derek had. And in my eyes, he had no right to do what he did, despite what the courts agreed. We were married, but that shouldn’t entitle him to what’s mine. It’s a lesson I’ve paid for dearly and will never make again.
The anger and resentment are a bitter taste in my mouth and tinge the beautiful sunrise with my bad thoughts.
The small Cornish town of Tregethworth certainly isn’t London, but it has changed a little in the last twenty or so years. There are a few more shops and more tourist stuff now, but I’m pleased to see Molly’s is still here, although I don’t dwell on those memories.
Mum was ecstatic when I asked her if I could come and stay with her. She’s had to travel to me to visit, and I’ve hosted Christmas for her and my sister every year since I settled in London, although Tegan didn’t come so often since having Natalie, her daughter, and it’s been years since I’ve seen her.
They say time heals all wounds. I disagree. But I do believe that it gives us the space to adjust to the pain of the wounds we carry. And Cornwall is the perfect place for me to regroup and plan what to do next. Starting from scratch at thirty-five was not the career plan I’d manifested for the last ten plus years.
The rays of light spill over the ocean, and the sheer beauty of the scene lifts my dour mood. This is an opportunity. That’s all. Something for me to conquer and succeed in like I did when I first left this place behind. I close my eyes and breathe the words in, and exhale.
It might not work for shit, but I’m going to try everything I can to beat this.
“You were up and out early,” Mum calls from the kitchen as I walk in the door.
“Just getting some fresh air.”
“Well, all those years in the city, I bet your lungs don’t know what’s hit them.” She looks at me as I take a seat at the kitchen farmhouse table.
“It’s lovely to be back, Mum. I mean it.”
“Well, doesn’t mean I believe you mean it.” She puts a cup of tea in front of me and joins me at the table.
She’s never left Tregethworth. It’s like a piece of her belongs to this little town, and she can’t live without it. She’s paid her mortgage off and has a beautiful house with plenty of potential with the land at the back and side of the property. I’ve not mentioned my idea to her because it’s just an idea right now, but I had no intention of just sitting idle while I rebuilt my life.
I’ve worked and fought for my success, and I can do it again.
