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“Feel better?” I asked.

She nodded, but something was wrong. She didn’t look relaxed, she looked nervous. For a moment, I wondered if she had been inside my head. Had I said something aloud, something I hadn’t meant to?

Her damp hair had left watermarks on the shoulders of her shirt, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them as she sat down at the table. Determined to play it cool, I set the dinner plate down in front of her.

“Sorry,” I said with a tight smile. “I might’ve over-heated it. Just give it a minute or two.”

“Thank you,” she managed, smiling that foreign smile that didn’t belong to her.

I sat down at the table opposite her, bringing my beer with me. Something was definitely up. The question was, was I game enough to ask her what?

“I saw Emily’s things in the bathroom,” she said, before I could decide. She stared at the plate in front of her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snoop.”

I scratched my chin, waiting for her to look up at me so I could see her face properly, see what was going on inside her head. But she wasn’t obliging. It wasn’t like I’d tried to hide any of this stuff from her. Maybe I should’ve.

“It’s crazy isn’t it?” I said quietly. “After five years, you’d think it’d get easier.”

She looked up at me, and for a moment, it felt like we were connected again, just like we’d been the first time we’d met. It felt as if she had reached out and plugged into me, as if she knew how I was feeling without me having to say it. As if she knew how hard this was for me, and yet how much I wanted to do it anyway.

“I don’t know if it gets easier or not,” she said gently. “I think that maybe you just get used to carrying it around with you, like extra weight. It doesn’t get easier, so much as it gets familiar.”

That sounded like experience talking. Had she lost someone, too – is that what we had in common? Was that the thing that had drawn us together? It seemed logical to me. Kindred spirits, united by the common thread of grief. It would explain a hell of a lot.

“I can’t get rid of it,” I said finally. “I mean, she’s been gone five years and I can’t make myself get rid of
anything
of hers. Clothes, make-up, shoes – none of it. It’s all still here. Throwing it away just feels…” I shrugged helplessly, the words just beyond my reach. “I think the worst part is not knowing. If she were dead, we’d be able to grieve, have a funeral, get on with our lives. But just not knowing, that’s the really tough part – the questions, the second-guessing, the endless speculation… ”

Maia reached over and laid her hand on top of mine. I looked up and her eyes seemed larger, deeper, fuller. I knew then that I was right. It leaves a scar on your soul when you lose someone you love. You’re branded. It changes you in ways you never imagined it would. You can’t prepare for it, you can’t anticipate it or how you will react to it. I think that’s because you’re too scared to think about it, in case you will it into being. Instead, you try to make it through your life oblivious, living day to day, constantly moving forward.

But when the unthinkable finally happens, it forces you to stop. To feel. To lose a part of yourself to the horror. And you’re never really the same.

“I used to feel her, all around me,” I admitted, shocking myself. I’d never said that to anyone before, not even Vinnie. “It was like she was watching me. But lately… I don’t know. It’s different.”

I wanted to explain how different, but I didn’t know how. When it came right down to it, I’m not sure it was something I was capable of understanding, much less explaining.

“She’s so lucky,” Maia said, tears gathering in her eyes. “To have so many people who love her, who miss her.”

If only loving her, missing her, could bring her back to me. If it could, she’d have been home long ago.

I moved my hand to enclose hers. I wanted her to know how much it meant to me, that she could let me talk about Em like this, but I couldn’t find the words. Instead, I just sat there, holding her hand on the table.

Like everyone kept telling me, it was time to move on. I couldn’t dwell anymore – literally. It hurt too much. I glanced down at the plate in front of her and summoned up a smile from somewhere.

“You better eat up before it gets cold and I have to re-heat it again. That’s if I haven’t completely destroyed your appetite already?”

Her smile softened. “No, I’m still hungry. And you can talk about Emily any time you want to. She was a big part of your life – it’d be weird if you didn’t talk about her.”

The more time I spent with her, the more I was starting to believe in fate, karma, destiny and all that stuff. How else could I explain this? She seemed to be exactly what I needed, when I needed it.

I squeezed her hand. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

I gave her some space to eat, and then we did the dishes together. She was still a little fragile from the migraine, but she said she felt a lot better, which was good news. There was something we needed to talk about and I wanted her full attention when we did. We sat down on the couch together, the TV still turned down low, the lights even lower.

“I need to ask you something,” I said, turning to her.

She looked a little nervous. “Okay.”

I was nervous myself. I didn’t want to offend her.

“This sleeping in your car thing,” I began carefully. “It makes me really uncomfortable, knowing you’re out there, God knows where, each night. It just doesn’t seem right to me.”

She sat back on the couch, her knees pulled up, chin resting on them as if she was barricading herself against me. I reached over and rubbed her leg gently.

“I’m not judging you,” I murmured. “I just want to help. I have a spare room, and it’s yours if you want it, for however long you want it. No expectations, no conditions.”

She looked like she might burst into tears and I didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“I’m not trying to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to do,” I said quickly. “And like I said, the room doesn’t come with any strings attached. I just want you to be safe.”

Suddenly, she released her knees and sat forward, wrapping her arms around me with a little whimper that took me completely by surprise. We sat there, holding on to each other, for several long minutes. I still wasn’t sure – was this a
yes-please
? Or a
no-thank-you-but-thank-you-for-caring
?

“I know all of this – us – is moving pretty quickly, but it just… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel wrong, not to me anyway.”

In fact, it felt more right than anything else had in the past five years.

“It doesn’t feel wrong to me, either,” she whispered into my shoulder.

I took that as a
yes-please
and pulled her tighter, my heart so full, it felt like it might burst. I had no idea what was happening between us, but I had the distinct impression that whatever it was, it was out of our hands.

I LAY IN BED THAT NIGHT,
wide awake. I stared at the ceiling, counted sheep and tossed and turned. The one thing I couldn’t do was sleep.

How the hell could I still miss Em as much as I did, yet I couldn’t stop thinking about Maia?

I’d said the offer didn’t come with any conditions or expectations – and at the time, I thought I meant it. But now, at night, with the house quiet and dark, and Maia so close yet so far from me, it felt like a lie. I didn’t want her down the hall. I wanted her right there, in my bed, beside me. The realisation hit me like a freight train.

Was it even possible to love two women at the same time?

One thing was for sure – I loved Maia. I’m not sure how long I’d known it or whether she felt the same, but it was no good lying to myself about it anymore. I’d fallen hard and fast for her – really fast. I’d told myself that we barely knew each other. I’d told myself that I wasn’t ready. I’d told myself a thousand other things, but in the end I couldn’t find a single valid reason to back off. She had me, one hundred percent.

I lay there, trying to imagine how I’d feel if I woke up to find her gone. That’s when I knew. I knew, in the way your heart knows before your head realises, that if she left now, it would hurt like hell.

They say falling in love takes time, but I call bullshit on that. It takes guts. It can happen in a moment – a single heartbeat, even – but to hand someone the key to your happiness is the most courageous move you’ll ever make. You’re giving them the power to utterly destroy you, and you don’t even know you’re doing it. I think that’s the most frightening part. By the time you realise what’s happened, it’s too late. You’re already in over your head.

So now what?

We’d spent the evening talking and listening to music. The outside world ceased to exist, shrinking until it was just the two of us, sitting on my couch, in my living room, in the near-dark. I could’ve stayed up all night, adrenaline coursing through me at first, then settling into a dull buzz, like a hum of anticipation at what was to follow. Honestly, I didn’t care what came next. I just wanted to be with her.

I kissed her again, just once. I know I could’ve kissed her more than once, but I wanted to slow things down a bit, to regain some semblance of control over this situation we’d found ourselves in, this juggernaut that was gaining momentum. I wanted her to be comfortable. I’d pulled her into my lap, and she’d settled in as if she belonged there. She caressed the short hair at the nape of my neck, sending spikes of electricity shooting through me until I had to pull away. I don’t think she had any idea how much self-control that had taken.

Unlike Em, Maia had to be goaded into talking about herself. She was reluctant, evasive even. I got the feeling that she didn’t let just anyone in, and I liked that she was lowering her defences for me, even if it was slowly. I was prepared to wait as long as it took for her to open up to me. We had all the time in the world.

I’d expected her to put up a fight when I suggested moving into the spare room, yet she had literally melted into my arms as soon as I mentioned it. It mystified me, but also served up a huge helping of relief. At least with me, she’d be safe. No need for me to worry about where she was spending the night.

I don’t know what time I eventually dozed off, but when I woke up the sun was just rising. I could tell by the pale golden light behind my bedroom curtains, the ones I’d spent most of the night staring at. The house was quiet. I poked my head out of the bedroom and looked down the hall. The spare room door was open. I crept further. The bed had been remade and a sense of crushing disappointment engulfed me. Where was she?

Walking into the living room, my heart-rate spiked when I saw her sitting outside on the balcony, her back to me.

Thank God. I was beginning to think last night had just been a figment of my imagination.

I smiled to myself on my way back to the bathroom. I felt like a kid at Christmas, anxious to get into the living room and unwrap my new gift.

When I came out of the bathroom, I briefly thought about throwing a t-shirt on over the top of my shorts, but recklessly decided not to. I had a perpetual tan, thanks to a combination of working outdoors all year round and spending my spare time surfing, and I was in good shape. She seemed to have liked what she saw at the beach. Maybe a little reminder was in order. The thought made me feel decidedly smug.

I walked through the living room and out onto the deck. She looked up and smiled. One of those smiles that made me forget what I was going to say. I didn’t feel so smug anymore.

“Morning,” she said, her eyes flicking over my bare chest.

I hunkered down beside her, giving the sunrise over the harbour a quick once-over while I gathered myself together. As if anything could be as beautiful as she was at this moment.

“Good morning,” I said, turning back to her. “Did you sleep alright?”

She nodded. “You?”

I nodded too, hoping I wouldn’t get struck down by lightning. I was just about to stand up and head back to the kitchen when her gaze flitted ever so briefly to my lips. It was a silent request, but it rang in my head as if through some kind of telepathic loudhailer. She wanted to kiss me. I happily obliged, leaning forward to plant a sweet, soft kiss on her lips. She tasted like coffee and toothpaste. My new favourite combination.

Last night came flooding back. Talking. Laughing. Kissing. Wanting.

I withdrew, smiling lazily. This was the absolute best way to start the day. Any day.

“I’m going to grab a coffee,” I murmured. “Do you need anything?”

She shook her head, blushing slightly. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked back inside and made myself a cup of coffee. I glanced up as I stirred the milk in, and she was still watching. I smiled. Leaving the t-shirt off had been a good move.

I walked back out onto the deck and pulled up the other deck chair closer to her, settling into it and taking a sip of my coffee.

“Do you always get up so early?” I asked, turning to her.

She sat on the chair, her knees pulled up, resting her coffee cup on the arm of the chair. She leant her head back against the head-rest.