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“He is. May I ask your name?” She guards the door as if her job depended on it.
I smile, happy she doesn’t recognise me. “It’s Anna.”
“Anna, who?”
“He’ll know.” I don’t mean to sound smug, but it’s how it comes out.
She doesn’t invite me in and leaves me hanging on the doorstep.
After a couple of minutes, he appears, the door flying open as he stands on the threshold, gawking.
“Anna.” The way he says my name is like a benediction, immediately playing to my heart.
“Hi.”
“Come in. What are you here for? Why are you here?” He beckons me in.
That’s a good question.
“Where’s Sophie?”
“Having her nap.”
I look around, awkward and terrified now that I’m here.
“Can I get you something? A drink? Peach Iced Tea?”
“Sure.” I smirk at the memory of drinking nothing but that the summer I stayed here.
Jeremy heads through to the kitchen and fixes two glasses filled with ice. “Come on.” He walks out into the garden and skirts the pool, and I know where he’s leading me.
I go, the heavy set of nostalgia comforting me like a warm blanket as we walk out and along the path to Jeremy’s jetty. As we get closer, I notice the boat isn’t there anymore. We never did get to go out on it.
He sits down on the edge and places the glass to his side. I mimic him.
The stillness welcomes me, lifting the nerves and trepidation of the conversation to come.
“I had to find out if you had sold this place, too.”
He shakes his head. “It’s still ours. I’d never get rid of the place that means so much to me.”
“It was one summer. A few weeks,” I defend, as if the length of time should lessen the importance or meaning of our feelings.
“Doesn’t matter. I told you that nothing is temporary when it comes to you. That’s never changed.”
Neither of us looks at the other. We speak to the water like every other important conversation we’ve had here.
“I wish I could hate you. I wish you would just forget me, move on, and leave me to myself.” If only that could have been our fate.
“It’s never been over for me. Maybe it would be easier for both of us if that were different.”
“Maybe.”
“Did you come here just to see if I’d sold?” The hope is there in his words.
“Maybe. I was on holiday and couldn’t seem to get over the idea of us. Like we always dreamed of. You laid that out for me, let me hope, but I wasn’t ready to hear it.”
“And you are now?”
