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Chapter Fifty-Three
After another restless night of tossing and turning, Amelia lay for a moment and watched the dark early morning sky gradually fade until it turned a pale grey. She sat up and reached for her journal and started to write.
What if I go with Declan? What if it works out and we make a go of our marriage . . . it could turn out to be the best thing I’ve done. It might be the most courageous decision I’ve made. Perhaps we’ll look back and have something to tell our children and our grandchildren. Our marriage may have had a rocky start but surely that makes our story more interesting, doesn’t it? But what if I’m acting from a place of fear? What if I’m doing this because I’m too scared to be on my own?
But you have been on your own, Amelia. You came to Arran and made a life for yourself. You’re not weak, you’re strong and proud. You must do what is right for you.
But what if things all go wrong? What if I make a mistake? What if, what if, what if . . . it all goes wrong? I can come back, can’t I? Or go somewhere else? Surely the biggest lesson I have learned in all of this is that I am stronger than I think. I will always be okay. The question is, what if I go back with Declan? Will it be different?
What if I’m not happy? I can leave. What if I don’t like being back in London? We can leave. I can leave. What if I don’t go?
She looked out of the window thoughtfully and chewed her pen for a moment.
If I don’t go, I will always be left wondering what if? I might regret not trying out what if?
A tight coil of emotion lodged in her throat as she realised she had made her decision.
She closed her journal and got out of bed, pulling on some clothes. She wanted to have one last walk along the beach.
The air was cold and she inhaled the tangy, salty scent as she made her way down the garden path. Her hand rested on the wrought-iron gate and she closed her eyes, willing herself to remember this moment forever. Opening them, she gazed over at the Holy Isle, saddened that she hadn’t managed to make the trip. Perhaps she would return one day. But in her heart of hearts, Amelia knew that if she left with Declan there would be no returning. Was she really able to give all of this up? Just like that?
She walked along the shore, studying the lacy trail the tide left over the pebbles as the water gently pulled in and out, and hoping she could commit these pictures to memory for ever. The water was still and she half wondered if she might see Fergus having an early swim. But the beach and the sea were deserted. She walked briskly, crunching over the shells and listening to the sounds, which she’d started to take for granted. The lapping water, the shrieking and swooping gulls overhead, the sound of cars up on the road. She knew she should really go to the café and say goodbye to Cano and Thea at the very least. But she couldn’t face them, which made her a coward. They would find out soon enough from Edie, though it wasn’t fair to leave her to tell them. Oh, Edie, how on earth was she going to break the news to her? That was going to be the hardest part of all of this.
She drank in the view once more, taking a few last photos with her phone. There were several messages from Jack, checking she was okay. She’d answered briefly and said she was busy but she would be in touch. She couldn’t face getting into it all right now and explaining what had happened. She felt utterly drained. She was about to walk back to the cottage when she heard someone call her name. She waited and looked back. For a moment, when she saw his face, she remembered the man she loved, or used to love. That was what confused her. She didn’t know anymore.
He jogged along the shore to join her. ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t wait any longer.’
Amelia squirmed. She had just wanted to enjoy this last walk here on her own.
‘Have you made your decision?’ he said earnestly.
She looked at him, smiled and nodded.
Chapter Fifty-Four
The late morning sunshine cast a warm glow on Edie’s kitchen and Amelia paused to look through the window and watch for a moment. The scene comforted her, and Edie had been such a huge support to her. Could she really just walk away?
Knocking on the door, she opened it and walked in, kicking her shoes off and leaving them by the mat. She couldn’t help but think back to that wet night when she’d arrived and how welcome Edie had immediately made her. If only she could rewind to that night and relive every second of her time here. She hovered in the doorway, feeling the warm tiles underfoot, smelling the shortbread scent of the kitchen and the burning logs in the stove.
‘Hi, dear, come on in. Nice to see you.’
Amelia smiled awkwardly.
‘How are you?’ Edie cocked her head, trying to read Amelia’s conflicted expression.
She shrugged. ‘Ah, Edie. I’m not quite sure . . .’
‘What about?’
‘Declan, my husband — or ex-husband, I’m not sure what he is — turned up yesterday. He was the last person I expected to turn up at my door.’
‘Oh . . . and how did that make you feel?’
‘Angry, hurt . . . all those feelings came flooding back again. Yet also happy. I was happy to see him, Edie, and relieved.’ She held herself still and steadied her breathing. ‘He wants us to give our marriage another go,’ she said flatly. ‘That’s why he’s here. He’s rented a flat in London and wants me to go back with him and try again.’
Edie looked taken aback for a moment, though quickly regained her composure. ‘Okay, dear.’ She looked intently at her. ‘And what doyouwant, Amelia?’
‘I think I still love him, Edie. Don’t I owe it to him and myself to give us another go?’
