‘And whose fault is that?’
Surprised at his tone, I said, ‘We know whose fault it is.’ Puzzled, I watched until his glower faded.
‘Yeahhhhh.’ He sighed. ‘Does Quin know where you are?’
‘Yes.’ I mean, he knew where I was. But he didn’t know who I was with. ‘Does Kallie know where you are?’
‘Of course.’
Although I had no real clue what to make of Kallie, it seemed important to bury any signs of jealousy. ‘I like Kallie,’ I heard myself say. Then forced the words, ‘A lot.’
Watching the waves, he said, ‘So do I.’ He turned to look straight into my face and emphasized, ‘A lot.’
Hearing it felt surprisingly painful.
‘Are you planning to … have kids?’
The idea twisted something terrible in me. But I had to admit that another child of Luke’s in the world could only be beautiful.
‘No.’ He sounded shocked. ‘Kallie is great, but I’ve always been honest with her. I’m not available …’ He cleared his throat. ‘That thing of surrendering my life to her, of … of stopping just being me and becoming an “us”， I’m not able. But I care about her. She’s lovely to be around. And,’ he added, ‘I wish I could offer her more. But my life happened the way it happened and this is the way it left me. I’m grateful that there’s plenty I can still enjoy.’
‘Like smoking weed on the deck with her. That must be good.’ There was a sudden lump in my throat.
‘Don’t do that, Rachel.’ He stopped walking. ‘I never missed it when I was with you.’
His gaze tracked over me. I was the first to look away.
‘How’s your dad?’ This was a fairly weak attempt at conversation.
He shook his head. ‘Deliberately acting up because he doesn’t want me to leave. But spending time with him feels right. I’ll need to get back to Denver soon but …’ Staring out to sea, he said, ‘I wish I’d spent more time with Mum.’
With genuine sympathy, I said, ‘It’s not easy living so far from your family.’
‘Tell me about it. Is that why you decided to move back here?’
All sympathy disappeared. Was he for real? ‘My baby died. My husband left me.’
He wheeled around. ‘Seriously? That’s your’ – he made air-quotes – ‘“reason”？’
Astonished, I said, ‘No, Luke. It’s my reason. Like, what the hell else would it be?’
Yesterday he’d been not exactly friendly, but willing to move forwards. Today felt like we’d taken a step backwards. I didn’t know what had changed.
He returned to watching the waves. ‘She’d be almost seven now. In July. What would she be like?’
I needed a moment to gather myself. ‘She’d look like you. She had your hair.’
He shot a look my way. ‘But those Walsh genes are strong. Sooner or later, she’d have turned into you. She’d be losing her baby teeth …’
‘Cute and gappy.’
‘The Tooth Fairy would come.’ His jaw clenched. ‘That’s … wow. Could you imagine?’
I couldn’t speak. The thought was too painful.
Our eyes met. He looked appalled. ‘God, Rachel, you were right,’ he said. ‘This wasn’t such a great idea.’
Small patches of blackness were floating at the edge of my vision. I needed to sit.
‘Have you eaten today?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’ I hadn’t.
‘I can give you a mint?’ He offered me the packet and we sat on the shingle. I flipped a mint into my mouth and lay back, letting the sweetness flood in, listening to the rush and crash of the waves. For a moment, the universe held me, free from pain.
‘What are you thinking about?’ He asked.
‘Ahhh. That the fizzing noise the small waves make, in their last gasps, just before they run out of steam, sounds like Alka-Seltzer dissolving in a glass.’
‘Never not thinking about drugs …’
Was he trying to be funny? I sat up. ‘Just in case you’re in any doubt about it, I’m clean.’
‘You’d hardly be working at the Cloisters if you weren’t. Head therapist. Wow.’
‘Luke? What are you –’
‘I’m glad you’re clean.’ But ‘glad’ wasn’t how he sounded. ‘Can you be around kids?’ he asked, with another of those whiplash conversational segues. ‘Or does it hurt too much?’