It makes us both realise I won’t still be here in the winter, and the sadness pervades. His arms drop from around me, and his hand trails down my arm, across my T-shirt sleeve until his fingers slot between mine.
I swallow hard. ‘Ryan, I …’
‘Yeah, I know.’ He squeezes my hand gently. ‘Your life isn’t here anymore.’
‘It’s not that. I want …’ I love it here. I want to stay, but how can I? I want to talk about it with him, see if he thinks there’d be a future for us if I moved back, but it can’t begin with him thinking my life is so different to what it is.
I don’t know how to end that sentence, and he doesn’t push me for an answer.
We turn around to follow Baaabra Streisand as she trots across the sand. She keeps picking up a shell, tossing it away, and then running after it, and I can’t help laughing. Whoever knew sheep made such good pets?
The beach is empty tonight in contrast to how busy it was this morning. It’s pitch black apart from the light of a small crescent moon, and the tide is out, making the sand seem endless as we walk towards the cliff in the distance with a castle ruin on it. The retreating tide has washed away the footprints of the day, and apart from the set of hoof prints we’re following, it’s like we’re the only people who have ever been here.
‘You ever wonder how many break-ups it’s been responsible for?’ His voice is no more than a whisper but it sounds loud in the silence of the night, and it takes me a moment to realise he’s talking about the tree.
‘With the carvings fading legend,’ he continues. ‘How many people visited and seen their carving has faded and took it to mean their other half wouldn’t be true or whatever nonsense they used to spout in Victorian times, and not just that it wasn’t deep enough or it’d been battered by the weather or carved over by someone else. The Tree of Inadvertent Break-Ups.’
‘Aw, that’s so cynical.’ I glance up at him but he looks away this time. ‘You used to believe in magic and sycamore wishes more than anyone. What happened?’
He does a long shrug, lifting my arm too as he moves his shoulder. ‘Stopped believing in happy endings, I guess.’
‘Seriously, Ry,’ I say slowly because I’m not sure I want to know. I should have asked him straight away, but it didn’t seem like the right moment to push him on it, and the thought of him hiding this secret when I thought we shared everything makes me feel uneasy. ‘What happened with the woman you told me about the other day?’
‘I went along with what my father wanted. I ended up engaged to her.’
He mentioned something about it the other day, but to hear him actually say it so straightforwardly … I stop in shock and the movement yanks my hand out of his.
‘That wasn’t meant to sound like I jumped straight into bed with her. It was years after you left, Fee. I missed you like hell for a couple of years, I was low and lonely and my father’s constant pressure got the better of me. I gave up on you ever coming back. I stopped fighting. Without you, I didn’t have anything to fight for.’
‘Ryan …’ It makes the guilt spike again. The day I kissed him was such a huge misunderstanding for both of us. It could’ve been so different. If I’d hung around to hear his explanation, if he’d explained things to me earlier, if either of us had had the confidence to let each other see how we really felt years before …
‘I know you didn’t expect to hear that the other day, but the least I can do is explain. We were together for about five years in the end, but my heart wasn’t in it. The relationship moved on without me. Both our families were involved, and it was assumed we were on the path towards marriage and children. I proposed because she was expecting me to propose and I didn’t want to let her, or the families, down. I felt like I should marry her rather than I wanted to. Don’t get me wrong, the first few years were great. We got on well enough that I actually thought I was lucky, but it faded, and we were trapped together more than anything else. I knew what love felt like, and that wasn’t it.’
A shiver goes down my spine and I glance behind me because it genuinely makes me feel like I’m being watched. There’s no wind tonight, the air is completely still, but the tree rustles above us. We look at each other and he slowly raises an eyebrow until we both burst into nervous laughter.
‘So what happened?’ I ask when the tree is silent.
‘People around here will be quick to tell you that I’m cruel and cold and heartless because I broke it off two months before the wedding, but she was buried in wedding plans and I was waking up at night in a cold sweat at the idea of making that commitment when neither of us were happy. It became all about the wedding for her. More and more guests, more and more money we didn’t have on outrageous things, more outlandish ways to impress people and go one better than all the weddings we’d been to over the years. I’d always thought Bridezilla was a myth until then. And I hate all that stuff, I wanted a small private wedding with only our families there, and she was all ice sculptures and glass carriages and inviting people she hadn’t been in touch with since primary school, and I realised that she didn’t know me at all or care in the slightest about how I was feeling. It might’ve seemed harsh, but it was always going to be kinder to break it off beforehand than go into a loveless marriage.’
‘That didn’t go down well, then?’
He grunts. ‘Her father pulled out of the business and left my dad with almost nothing, and that turned into the beginning of the end for his business empire. He didn’t speak to me for a while afterwards. I’m not sure he ever truly forgave me or understood why I couldn’t go through with it. She was furious about losing the Big Day, but not so much about losing me. She planned the wedding to impress her friends, not because she wanted to marry me. The groom was interchangeable.’
Even though he doesn’t sound overly bothered by the whole thing, there’s a wobble to the last sentence.
‘One thing you’ve never been, Ry, is interchangeable.’ I take his hand again and give it a squeeze and he knocks his shoulder into mine as we walk along.
‘See?’ he murmurs. ‘This is why I’ve been single since then. The half-hearted relationships have never been worth it. I want something that makes me feel alive. Something that lights up my life and makes me feel like I can do anything. Someone who believes in me and makes me feel like I’m the king of the world. And nothing’s ever come close to the girl I let go …’
I choke.
He tugs me to a halt. ‘Fee, I know things are weir— Ow!’
I’ve been so absorbed in Ryan talking that neither of us have noticed Baaabra Streisand coming back until she kicks a clump of wet sand at his leg.
‘There’s no way she’s full sheep. She’s some sort of half-dog crossbreed, right?’
He’s laughing as he bends to brush sand off his leg without letting go of my hand.
Whatever he was going to say, the moment is gone as he picks up a shell by his foot and tosses it and the sheep runs after it.
‘How about you?’ He swings our hands wider as we follow her. ‘Why has no one married my Fee yet?’
I wonder if that “my” doesn’t have something to do with it. ‘Lurched from one disappointing relationship to another, trying to fill a void with dull spark-free relationships that usually end in cheating, lying, and occasionally, stealing money from my bank account. That was a fun one.’
He bursts out laughing. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, but seriously? Who does that?’
‘A man who was quickly relegated to “ex”.’ I can’t help giggling too, even though it was far from funny at the time. Everything seems better with Ryan listening. ‘I’ve kind of given up in recent years. There are only so many disappointing relationships you can put yourself through before you wonder if it’s worth it, and the older I get, the more it feels like I’m looking for something that doesn’t exist.’
I meet his eyes in the darkness and I know we’re both thinking the same. It did exist, once. But we lost each other, and
maybe it’s too late now.
He looks away, but his grip on my hand tightens. ‘Do you ever regret leaving?’
I think about it for a while. The answer is both yes and no, and somehow I think Ryan will understand that. ‘You can regret leaving people without regretting leaving the place. I had to leave here. I had to know what else was out there. If I’d have stayed, I’d have spent the rest of my life wondering “what if”.’
‘And what’s it like out there?’
I screw up one eye and use my free hand to do a “meh” gesture. ‘It’s not so great actually.’
He laughs. ‘I’m sure the rest of the British Isles would be thrilled with that portrayal. Have you considered writing adverts for tourism boards?’
It makes me laugh out loud again, but he’s not going to distract me with humour. ‘How about you? Do you ever regret staying?’
He’s quiet for a while too. ‘I think you can regret aspects of staying without regretting the act of staying itself. I didn’t have a lot of choice, but on the other hand, I’ll never regret doing what was right for my family, but I’m also sorry for the things I never got to do and the people I’ve lost along the way … the people who had to go when I couldn’t.’
The tone in his voice makes it obvious he’s talking about me. I close my eyes and keep my head fixed straight ahead. My breath is shallow and fast, and I close my eyes and force myself to concentrate on breathing.
The tree rustles above us again, making us both turn back to look at it as the noise cuts through the silence of the darkness.
Another moment for telling him is lost. Ryan goes to run a hand through his hair and accidentally clonks himself on the forehead with the torch he’s forgotten he’s holding.
It makes me laugh, and even in the night, I can see how red his cheeks go.
‘Sorry, I must sound like such a backwoods, small-town country bumpkin to you now. I bet you can’t wait to get back to your glamorous London life.’
I snort so hard that even Baaabra Streisand looks round at me. ‘Believe me, there is nothing glamorous about it. And no. I wish I could stay.’ It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud and he stops walking immediately.
‘Aren’t you happy there?’
It’s such a simple question, and I don’t realise I’m going to cry until I go to answer him with a flippant “of course” and a sob comes out instead.
His arms are around me in an instant, pulling me tight against his chest and squeezing hard. Knowing exactly what I need without a word being said, like he always did, and just the act of someone caring makes me cry harder. It’s been a long time since I felt like I mattered to someone.
‘It’s complicated, Ry,’ I stammer out eventually. It’s the perfect opportunity to tell him the truth, to tell him about Harrison and Landoperty Developments and trust that he’d understand it was only a job until I got here and remembered how much I loved this place, but at the same time, why would anyone believe that? I’ve outright lied to his face hundreds of times since I came back. That is something he won’t forgive me for, and I can’t bring myself to take that risk while his arms are around me and the crescent moon winks from behind a cloud.
‘If you’re not happy there, know that there is always a place for you here.’ His hand strokes through my hair, his fingers twirling in the strands, a gesture of comfort that makes me feel more loved than I have any right to feel.
‘Oh God, will you stop it? I’ve done nothing but cry since I got here and you’re making it worse.’ I push myself out of his arms and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, annoyed at myself for not just coming out with it.
I’ve ruined things with Ryan once, and the fear of losing him again is overpowering. Kissing him was the biggest risk I’ve ever taken, and from that, I realised that taking risks doesn’t pay off. It changed me. It changed how I approached things. It knocked my confidence and made me doubt everything I thought I knew, and this brings it all back in spades. I think he’ll understand why I told the lie I did, but the idea that he might not is too much of a risk to face.
I force myself to turn away and carry on walking. Baaabra Streisand is a silhouette in the distance now, clearly not hanging about to wait for us two slowcoaches.
‘How about you?’ I say when he catches up with my increased pace. ‘Are you happy?’
‘I thought I was. But seeing you again has made me realise that I’ve never been happy without you in my life.’
‘Oh my God, Ry.’ Why does he keep coming out with these things that make me trip over my own feet?
He grabs my hand and pulls me to him, sliding his arm around my waist, his other hand coming up to stroke through my hair, and I close my eyes and let out a breath.
‘You coming back here has been the best thing that’s happened to me. I should never have let you go. I should have kept in touch. I didn’t think you’d want me to …’
‘I didn’t think you’d want to. I thought you’d forget about me. I wasn’t that impor—’
‘My world stopped turning without you. That first Christmas after you left, I kept driving past your house because I thought you’d be home and I might get to “accidentally” run into you and be all casual and nonchalant, but it never happened. I couldn’t even bring myself to look you up online because I didn’t want to find out you were married. I’ve spent fifteen years convincing myself that we’d have another chance someday, and I didn’t know what I’d do if I found out you were happily married with a brood of children and a gorgeous husband, off somewhere living your dream life. It was better if you existed only in my memory.’
‘Why are you saying this now?’
‘Because the tree has given me a second chance. That tree has brought you back into my life. I don’t know how much time you get off in a restaurant, but it can’t be that much so I know you’re going to leave again soon, and I don’t want it to end the same way, because this time, I don’t think you want to go.’
‘Ryan, there’s something I need to tell—’
We’re suddenly headbutted apart by a sheep crashing straight through the middle of us.
‘Argh! That sheep!’ I’m struggling to stay upright from the momentum as Baaabra Streisand stands there staring at us. I meet Ryan’s eyes and we both burst into hysterics.
By the time I stop giggling, Ryan’s sobered up and his eyes are on me. ‘The universe’s way of trying to tell us something?’
‘Clearly,’ I agree. Maybe I’m not meant to tell him. Maybe this is all a mistake and I shouldn’t even be contemplating staying here and his sheep really does have perfect timing after all.
When I look at him again, he’s got a mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘Is it warm in here or is it me?’
I raise an eyebrow. ‘We’re outside.’
Even so, he starts flapping his T-shirt from the bottom like he’s overheated. ‘Wanna go for a swim?’
‘It’s nearly midnight!’
‘Exactly. It’s boiling tonight. This is Wales – you have to make the most of the rare times it’s warm enough to go in the sea. Go on. I’ve always wanted to go night-time skinny-dipping and I never have. And I bet you never have either.’
‘For very good reason! You’re completely mad!’
He grins like it’s a compliment. ‘Something to remember us by when you’re back in your block of flats and your boiling hot restaurant kitchen.’
That sets my nerves wrangling for an altogether different reason than stripping off in front of Ryan, but his wide smile and the glint in his eyes is impossible to ignore. ‘I’m not taking my clothes off in front of you!’ Unlike his curved muscular body, I’m not skinny enough to be made for skinny-dipping.
‘Underwear-dipping then.’ He rips his shirt over his head with one swift move, and honestly, it’s a good job it is dark because even in this low light I can see the outline of his abs, and if we were in full daylight I might not be able to stop myself licking them.
He takes his phone out of h
is pocket and drops it on top of his T-shirt on the sand, and notices me watching. ‘No one’s going to steal it. There’s not a soul around. You’ve been living in London for too long, Fee.’
That I can definitely agree with.
I watch the ripple of muscles as he toes first one shoe and then the other off, and then he steps back, leaving the three-quarter-length trousers on. He flashes a grin at me and takes off running down the beach towards the low tide, giving me privacy to strip off, and although it’s tempting to just go and paddle at the shore, it is warm tonight, and I have enough regrets when it comes to Ryan that I don’t want to add “not moonlight swimming with him” to the list.
I slip my trainers off and put my phone next to his, wondering if it’s more likely to be stolen or eaten by Baaabra Streisand, who has come to stand next to me in some display of feminine solidarity as I reluctantly strip my T-shirt off too. Whoever thought I’d be bonding with a sheep, topless, on a moonlit night?
I’m wearing a scaffolding-like sports bra that’s going nowhere, but I use my top to cover our phones in case any would-be thieves wander by, and then feel guilty for being so cynical.
Somewhere down the beach, Ryan shouts as he enters the water.
Baaabra is still standing there, looking between me and the phones, and I wave my hand for her to follow me, surprised when she does. Maybe she’s hoping this’ll lead to her chance to drown me as we start running down the beach together, feet sinking in the wet sand where the tide hasn’t long gone out.
‘Oh my God, that’s freezing,’ I shout as I crash into the ocean.
Ryan holds his nose and sinks under the water and surfaces again with a splash, wet hair across his forehead as he pushes it back and shakes seawater out of it, and I squeal when it splashes me. I pluck up the courage to duck under the surface too … I’ve come this far, I may as well go all the way now.
The Wishing Tree Beside the Shore: The perfect feel good romance to escape with this summer! Page 25
