Alex nodded. ‘Yeah,’ he said slowly.
‘I think you’re lovely, but I don’t think there’s a future for us. I’m really sorry.’
His face fell. ‘Oh. Okay,’ he said. ‘Can I ask why? Is it because I was such a jerk in school? You can’t forgive me?’
‘No! Alex, no, it’s not about that at all,’ Claire said, squeezing the hand that still held hers.
She thought about giving him the easy answer. I live in Sydney, you live here, our lives are too different, it would never work, et cetera, et cetera. It would be a plausible excuse to hide behind. But Alex had been honest about his feelings for Claire. She knew he deserved the same from her.
She took a deep breath. ‘It is about the past, though,’ she said. ‘Specifically, my total inability to let go of it. I thought I had, or I never would have gone out with you, but recent events have shown me that I’ve been kidding myself.’
Comprehension settled on Alex’s face. ‘Oh,’ he said again. His gaze drifted across the crowd to Nina. ‘This must be really tough for you then.’
Claire wanted to hug him. It was such a kind thing to say. Alex was a truly decent man. She wished she could make herself fall for him. For what felt like the hundredth time that day, she cursed her stubborn heart.
‘It’s been an experience,’ she said with a hollow laugh. ‘But I’m figuring some stuff out. I am really sorry if I led you on.’
His smile returned. ‘Don’t sweat it. I got to tick “go on a date with Claire Thorne” off my bucket list, so I’m all good. And I do appreciate you telling me where you’re at.’
This time she did hug him.
‘Hey,’ Alex said when she released him. ‘If it wouldn’t be too weird, do you still want to go to the wedding together? I hate going stag to those things and, correct me if I’m wrong, but maybe you could use some moral support?’
Claire considered the offer. She was still determined to go to the wedding. It would be gut-wrenching to watch Scotty promise to love someone who wasn’t her for the rest of his life, but she knew she needed to see it. Her brain knew Scotty was lost to her, but her heart still wouldn’t believe it without incontrovertible proof. She needed that thing her American college friends always talked about: closure.
Would it be so bad if she had her emotional catharsis in the company of an attractive man who looked great in a suit?
‘I would love that, Alex,’ Claire said. ‘Thank you.’
‘Cool. I’ll pick you up from your aunt’s place at five. I’m going to grab a drink. Can I get you something?’
‘Maybe later,’ she said. ‘I’m going to go say hi to a few people.’
Alex gave her shoulder a final reassuring squeeze and disappeared into the crowd. Claire did want a drink. She needed something to calm the jittery feeling in her stomach, but she also wanted to keep a clear head. She had to talk to Scotty. It was difficult enough keeping her wits about her when she was in his presence without alcohol clouding her thoughts.
Claire weaved through the sea of faces she knew so well, smiling and waving at people she’d known all her life, people who had welcomed her back to Bindallarah when she feared they would cast her off. The sense of familiarity was comforting, not oppressive as Claire had once felt. Tonight, this community felt like her safety net, a security blanket that had wrapped her up before and would again if things fell apart.
When things fell apart.
Finally, when Claire had walked what seemed like the length of the beach, she saw Scotty. He was walking away from his party, heading towards the path that led through the dunes with his head down and his hands in his pockets.
‘Scotty!’ she called, but he didn’t seem to hear her over the pounding of the waves against the shore. Either that or he just didn’t want to talk to her.
But she wanted to clear the air between them – to tell him she knew he hadn’t been truthful about the timing of his engagement to Nina, and that she understood why. She broke into a jog and followed, catching up to him as he was halfway up the sandy path to the car park. It was quiet here, sheltered. The sound of the party receded behind the towering sandhills.
‘Scotty, wait,’ Claire called again.
This time he turned around and she was relieved to see he wasn’t wearing high heels or comedy breasts or whatever else grooms were commonly forced to don at bucks’ parties. In fact, Scotty was casually gorgeous in dark-blue jeans and a fitted button-down shirt.
But when Claire’s gaze alighted on his face, she gasped. Maybe it was the long shadows cast by the full moon or the dim artificial light that extended from the car park, but Scotty looked awful. His eyes were dull and his face unshaven. He seemed to have aged ten years since Claire’s last glimpse of him on Saturday morning.
When he realised it was her, Scotty closed his eyes and blew out a long breath. Claire heard him whisper something. She couldn’t be certain, but it sounded like Thank God.
It seemed like hours passed before he opened his eyes again. ‘I thought you’d gone,’ Scotty said flatly.
Claire felt herself deflate. He didn’t want anything to do with her. This was going to be harder than she’d imagined.
‘Nope, still here,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, Scotty. I know you don’t want to see me, but I just need to —’
‘No, I mean I thought you’d left. I was worried that you’d left,’ he cut in. ‘Nobody’s heard from you in days.’
‘Oh . . .’ She wasn’t sure how to respond. She thought Scotty wanted her out of his life – now it sounded like he was chastising her for
