Shit. Is Struan right?
I look across at Blair again, lit up under the fairy lights, radiant and gorgeous. Soon she’ll be gone. Back to her real life, her career, her future. Everything she’s worked so hard for.
But what if . . . ?
Before I can talk myself out of it, I down my beer, shove Gus’s lead at Struan, then stride over to Ellie.
“Sorry,” I say, hand outstretched for the microphone. “Can I . . . ?”
Ellie blinks, puzzled, but passes it over. And now all eyes are on me. My hand shakes slightly as I bring the mic to my lips.
Christ. What am I doing?
Finn’s wide eyes lock on me, and for a moment my throat closes up. Everyone’s watching. Waiting.
Then I find Blair in the crowd, and suddenly everything else fades away.
“I’m proud of you,” I say. “For landing this amazing job. I know you’re going to be brilliant in New York. But... the thing is...”
I swallow hard, my heart hammering so loud I’m sure the microphone must be picking it up.
“Before you go, there’s something I need to say. I love you.”
A collective intake of breath ripples through the crowd. Blair presses a hand to her mouth, staring at me, stunned.
“I was lost at sea for a long time,” I continue, the words coming easier now. “But Blair, you’ve given me back more than I thought I’d ever have. You’ve given me hope. You’ve shown me how to live again, not just survive.”
My voice cracks but I push on. “I don’t want to clip your wings. If you want to go back to New York, you should. Of course you should. I’d never stand in your way. But if you want to try your hand at your own stories, I know you’ll make a success of that too. And I’d be glad to support you until you’re on your feet.”
I take a shaky breath. “I just want you to know you’ve got choices, Blair. And one of them is here. With me. With Finn. With Gus.”
Silence. Complete, absolute silence except for the gentle lap of waves against the harbour wall.
Every eye turns from me to Blair. She stands rooted, breath caught, as if she can’t quite believe what I’ve just said. I wait for her to speak, to let me down gently, to explain why this is impossible.
Instead, she moves, parting the crowd, slow, steady steps until she’s in front of me. Tears are gathering in her eyes. She clears her throat like she’s about to speak but nothing comes. Her lips part but there’s no sound.
She just stands there, eyes wet, mouth trembling, and I brace for the rejection I know is coming.
Then she rises on her toes and kisses me.
It’s soft at first, tentative, like she’s testing if I’m real. Just her lips against mine, her breath, and the world falling away. No ferries, no career in New York, no ticking clock. Just us. Just this. Everything else disappears.
When she pulls back, one hand clutches at my shirt like she needs an anchor. I don’t know what’s coming next. Was that her goodbye, wrapped up in a kiss? Is she about to thank me for a wonderful summer but tell me she really must go?
The whole harbour holds its breath with me.
Then, finally, she speaks—so softly it’s like it’s just for me, yet the hush is so complete everyone hears it.
“I’ll stay.”
For a heartbeat, nothing. No one moves, no one speaks. It’s like the whole harbour is stunned into the same disbelief rattling through me. Did she really just say that?
And then the noise hits. A roar of cheers, clapping, whistles, laughter.
I think I’m the last one to catch on. But then it finally sinks in, and my hands find her waist, hauling her against me, and I kiss her again.
The cheers only get louder. “About bloody time!” Douglas shouts from somewhere in the crowd.
