“Now? It’s dark.”
“That never used to stop you. In fact it used to be our preferred time for going to the beach.”
The look she gave him was loaded with memories. “That was then. This is now. We’re both a little old to be creeping around in the dark, climbing out of windows and meeting up in the sand dunes.”
“I had in mind walking out of the door and heading for the beach. There’s a full moon and we can take a flashlight. And since when has the dark ever bothered you?”
She laughed. “It doesn’t.”
“So if it’s not the dark that bothers you, then what does?”
“You. You bother me, Seth.”
“I’d rather you were bothered than indifferent. It means you still feel something.”
“Maybe it means you’re annoying. Were you always this stubborn?”
“Always. I used to hide it better
.” He held out his hand. “So that you don’t trip in the dark.”
“I’m not Matilda.” She hesitated and took it.
They strolled on the sand, the dog at their heels.
At the edge of the dunes she bent to slip off her shoes. It was something about her that hadn’t changed at all. She did it without thinking, but this time he stopped her.
“Don’t. There might be glass or rubbish on the sand.”
“Older and wiser.” But for once she left her shoes on and carried on walking. She stopped at the water’s edge and tipped her head back. “I’d forgotten how much I love the place at night. Look at the stars.”
He looked at the twinkle of lights against velvet black. And then he looked at her.
He was tempted to throw control into the ocean and kiss her, but that was what he’d done last time, and unraveling the consequences hadn’t been easy.
This time he was determined to take a different path to the same destination.
This time they were taking it slowly.
“I’m going to ask you a question. And you’re going to answer me.”
“Am I? What if I don’t like the question?”
“You’re going to answer anyway.”
She made a murmur of irritation. “You come across as all calm and civilized, Carlyle, but it’s all a ploy. Stealth interrogation.”
“Some call it conversation.”
“When you prefix it with a warning, it becomes interrogation. I thought we were done. I thought the hard bit was over.” She sighed. “Go on then, ask.”
“What do you think would have happened if we hadn’t lost that baby?”
She stood there, strands of her hair blowing in the wind. “I don’t know.”
“I do. We’d still be together.”
She stilled. “You don’t know that.”