Hugh leans forward and touches his forehead gently to mine. ‘When do you leave?’ he breathes.
‘Two days,’ I say. I’m smiling so wide I feel like my face will split in half. Our noses brush.
‘Then we better make the most of it.’ He kisses me, first lightly, our lips barely grazing each other, then deeper, hungrily, so intensely I can feel it all the way into my toes.
‘I really am sorry,’ I say when we finally break for air. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t honest and then I asked you to lie for me too. I’m sorry it took me so long to realise who I’m supposed to be.’
‘Andi,’ Hugh says, our foreheads meeting once again. ‘You have been you the whole time I’ve known you, and I’ve loved every second.’
Chapter 33
One year post dive
I stare out the window of my studio apartment. If I squint, I can make out a sliver of the deep blue Pacific Ocean. I found a place right next to Bronte Beach, home to Hugh’s favourite breakfast spot. I had to sell all my furniture at home (thankfully, most of it was from IKEA), but there’s a used furniture store near my new place, and in no time, I’ve filled my flat with an old table and a soft armchair, a worn wooden bedframe, and mismatched nightstands. The only thing I bought new was a big plush bed for Murphy, as a treat for sticking with me as we moved across the world. Murphy and I walk on the beach path every day, and every time I smell the ocean air and watch the frothy white tide smash into the cliffs below me, I wonder how I got so lucky.
Sometimes I remind myself it wasn’t all luck. It was constantly applying to vacancies at the University of Sydney until one stuck. It was spending days in Boston with Hugh laughing, remembering Derek’s antics and Andrew’s inability to control his own flotation. I finally got to tell Hugh how scared I was that Natalie would tell everyone I was Andi, which made him laugh so hard he had to wipe tears from his cheeks. ‘That’swhat you thought she was doing?’ he asked. ‘She was trying to convince me to try sunscreen made withseaweed.’ He breathed out, before collapsing into laughter again.
When I whisper-called Millie from the bathroom the morning after our first night together, Hugh still sleeping under our mussed hotel duvet, she shouted, ‘FOUR TIMES?’ so loudly through the phone that I dropped it in the sink.
‘You told me it was good but not that good!’
‘Well, it’s much better now that we’re not in the sand!’ I countered, laughing.
I told my family after I returned from Boston that I met a guy. That we were ‘seeing where it goes, but he lives pretty far away’.
My mom wrinkled her nose at that. ‘Does he live in Boston?’ she asked, with as much disdain as a proud Midwesterner can muster when confronted with the Northeast.
‘A little further than that,’ I replied.
Millie snickered from her place next to me.
Eventually, I got an entry-level position, something I was technically overqualified for, but something that gave me an employment visa. I jumped at the chance.
And as much as I hate to admit when Hugh’s right (which is all the time), he was right when he said I should move to Australia – it looks good on me. I feel stronger from my walks up and down the cliffs, I’m eating healthier food, and I have a sun-kissed glow, the freckles on my nose are out in full force. Plus, the coffee here is incredible.
The oven beeps, startling me from my thoughts. We’re headed to Hugh’s mom’s house for dinner, like we do every other weekend. Hugh’s mom, Gracie, lives in a little white clapboard house smack in the middle of the city. A jade tree sits on her front stoop, beautiful and gnarled. Gracie looks just like Hugh and always greets me the same way. ‘Andi!’ she says warmly, pulling me into a hug like I’m a long-lost friend.
Shaggy, Hugh’s little brother, is already here and Hugh runs to greet him, picking up a rugby ball on his way and immediately initiating a game of toss. Hugh is in his element at home, his body relaxed, his limbs fluid, his eyes a bright, turquoise shade of blue.
I help Gracie set the table as stragglers arrive. Hugh’s aunt and uncle usually come, as do the older couple that lives next door. Everyone assumes their positions – Hugh’s uncle starts manning the grill, Heather, Hugh’s aunt, starts refilling drinks. Shaggy darts in and out of the house, arranging bowls of coleslaw and salad on the table.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, which never happens at this hour considering most of my social circle is still in the US. It’s Millie. I step out to answer it, panicked. My heart is racing. Millie gets scans every six months as a follow-up to her double mastectomy.
‘Everything OK?’ I say, as soon as the FaceTime connects.
‘Andi!’ Millie yelps as her face slowly comes into focus. ‘I didn’t know if you would answer but thank God you did – I have great news!’
‘Millie, you scared me!’ I tell her angrily, although I’m so relieved my anger is fleeting. ‘It’s so late for you,’ I say, ‘you never call me at this time.’
‘I know but I just found out and Ihadto tell you.’ She’s practically jumping up and down.
‘OK, what is it?’ I’m sceptical. Millie’s last great news was that she found her new favourite bagel place. Not that I don’t support great bagels, but I didn’t exactly think it met the bar for ‘great news’.
‘You really want to know?’
‘Yes! Tell me. I’m at Hugh’s mom’s so I can’t be on the phone for forever.’
Millie rolls her eyes, but she smiles. ‘Cleveland’s sending me to Australia for THREE MONTHS!’ she shouts.
