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She didn’t slow her pace until she was free of the oppressive glitz and glamour, her feet step-step-stepping down the stone slabs of the wide front entrance.
‘I’ll walk you down to the harbour.’
Finn fell into place beside her, hands stuffed into his trouser pockets, and as if he sensed she was spooked he ground out, ‘No arguments.’
It was the second time he’d brandished that arrogant, masculine tone like a swordsman in protective stance and it did something strange to her insides. Made her go all warm and gooey. Which naturally made her every self-defence instinct kick into gear. She wanted to tell him to get lost—preferably on Mars. But something stopped her.
It was that frigid, ominous laughter. Playing in her mind. An endless loop of pain and vulnerability. Vehement enough for her to say, ‘Okay...’ because in truth she felt infinitely safer with him beside her.
Down the cobbled streets they went, the only sound the clickety-clack of his highly polished shoes and the sensual whispers of couples strolling by hand in hand.
As always, the sight made her heart ache. Ache for something she’d never have. Relationship material she was not.
Suddenly cold, she wrapped her arms across her chest, and by the time the tang of seawater filled her lungs and the harbour was a glittering stretch before them she was waging an internal war against asking him to stay.
‘Thanks for walking with me. I’ll be fine from here.’
‘Are you sure you’ll be okay? Is there anything I can do? Anything you want, Serena?’
Cruel—she was being cruel. The last few months had turned her into a horrible, horrible person but she couldn’t curb the truth.
‘The only thing I want right now is Tom. He was more than my brother—he was my friend.’ And she didn’t want to be alone.
But you are alone, Serena, and you always will be. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
‘I know,’ he said, his voice deep and low, tainted with sombre darkness. ‘Believe me, I know.’
It was a voice she’d never heard before. One that made her stop. Pause. Wonder at the torment engulfing his beautiful blue eyes.
‘I would do anything to turn back the clock. Anything to change the words I said. If only I’d just told him no when he asked to come out with me. Countless times I’ve wished for just that.’
As if he’d hit her with a curveball, she swayed on her feet.
The way he’d phrased it, so simply, had brought it all down to choices. Tom’s choice in asking to follow his hero. Finn’s choice in allowing him to.
Strange to think how the twists of fate intertwined with free will.
Every day they lived a voyage of discovery, moved through life based on choices like forks in the road. They peered down all the options, considered, weighed the risks, finally made a choice—some good, some bad. Some affecting no one but themselves. The worst affecting those they loved. But all of them defining. Forging who they were.
She’d made hundreds of choices in her lifetime and had one major regret. A choice that had affected her dad’s life, Tom’s life too, until the day he’d died. One made when she’d been naïve about her place in the world, no more than a girl, but a disastrous choice even so.
‘I would do anything to turn back the clock.’
Serena would too.
Instead she lived with the guilt, struggled with it, controlled it. Recognised it when she saw it in others. This time she saw it in Finn—such depth of emotion—her first glimpse in...forever.
First? No. She’d been struck with shards of his shattering façade since last night.
Glimpse? No. He looked devastated. Seething with a darkness she truly believed was pain.
‘Finn?’ Who was this man? Thawing the ice and hate she’d packed in her chest. ‘Oh, Finn, you really liked him, didn’t you?’ He was grieving too.
Punching his fists deep into his trouser pockets, he cast his gaze over the moonlit ripple of the ocean. ‘He was a good kid.’
Knowing this was her chance, she begged him, ‘Tell me what happened that night. Your version. Please. My dad just keeps saying there was a storm and he fell overboard during the night, but when I checked there were no weather warnings, no reports.’
His brow etched in torment, he closed his eyes momentarily. ‘It was...’ His throat convulsed. ‘Unexpected. There is nothing more to tell.’
His tone was as raw as an open wound and she ached for him, but— ‘Why do I think there is?’
‘Because you need to let go.’ He shoved frustrated hands through his thick blond hair. ‘Otherwise you’ll find no peace, Serena. I promise you.’
