He angled himself to look more directly at her. ‘Now it’s your turn to answer my question, Andie,’ he said. ‘How did you get over the death of your...of Anthony?’
She hadn’t been expecting that and it hit her hard. But he’d dug deep. She had to too. ‘I... I don’t know that I will ever be able to forget the shock of it. One minute he was there, the next minute gone. I... I was as good as a widow, before I’d had the chance to be a bride.’
Dominic nodded, as if he understood. Of course he’d lost his parents.
‘We were staying the weekend at his parents’ beach house at Whale Beach. Ant got up very early, left a note to say he’d gone surfing, kissed me—I was asleep but awake enough to know he was going out—and then he was gone. Of course I blamed myself for not going with him. Then I was angry he’d gone out by himself.’
‘Understandably,’ he said and she thought again how he seemed to see more than other people. She had no deep, dark secrets. But, if she did, she felt he’d burrow down to them without her even realising it.
‘After Anthony died, I became terrified of the sea. I hated the waves—blamed them for taking him from me, which I know was all kinds of irrational. Then one day I went to the beach by myself and sat on the sand. I remember hugging my knees as I watched a teenage boy, tall and blond like Anthony, ride a wave all the way into the shore, saw the exultation on his face, the sheer joy he felt at being one with the wave.’
‘If this is bringing back hurtful memories, you don’t have to go any further.’
‘I’m okay... When someone close dies, you look for a sign from them—I learned I wasn’t alone in that when I had counselling. That boy on his board was like a message from Anthony. He died doing something he truly loved. I ran into the surf and felt somehow connected to him. It was a healing experience, a turning point in my recovery from grief.’
‘That’s a powerful story,’ Dominic said.
‘The point of it is, it’s five years since he died and of course I’ve moved on. Anyone who might wonder if my past could affect our fake future can be assured of that. Anthony was part of my youth; we grew up together. In some ways I’m the person I am because of those happy years behind me. But I want happy years ahead of me too. I’ve dated. I just haven’t met the right person.’
For the first time she wondered if she could feel more for Dominic than physical attraction. For a boy who had been through what he had and yet come through as the kind of man who offered to pay for a little boy’s medical treatment? Who was more willing to open his house to disadvantaged people than celebrities? There was so much more to Dominic than she ever could have imagined—and the more she found out about him the more she liked about him.
And then there were those kisses she had not been able to stop thinking about—and yearning for more.
‘I appreciate you telling me,’ he said.
She poured herself another long, cool mineral water. Offered to pour one for Dominic, but he declined.
‘On to my next question,’ she said. ‘It’s about your family. Do you have family other than your aunt? My mother will certainly want to know because she’s already writing the guest list for the wedding.’
‘You told your mother about the engagement?’
‘She couldn’t be more delighted. In fact...well...she got quite tearful.’ Andie had never felt more hypocritical than the moment she realised her mother was crying tears of joy for her.
‘That’s a relief,’ he said.
‘You could put it that way. I didn’t realise quite how concerned they were about me being...lonely. Not that I am lonely, by the way—I have really good friends.’ But it was not the same as having a special someone.
‘I’m beginning to see that,’ he said. ‘I’m surprised we’ve been able to have this long a conversation without your phone going off.’
‘That’s because I switched it off,’ she said. ‘There’ll probably be a million messages when I switch it back on.’
‘So your mother didn’t question our...haste?’
‘No. And any guilt I felt about pulling the wool over her eyes I forced firmly to the back of my mind. Timothy getting the treatment he needs is way more important to my family than me finding a man.’ She looked at him. ‘So now—the guest list, your family?’
‘My aunt and my mother were the only family each other had. So there is no Australian family.’
‘Your aunt has...has passed away?’ There was something awkward here that she didn’t feel comfortable probing. But they were—supposedly—planning to get married. It made sense for her to know something of his family.
‘She’s in the best of residential care, paid for by me. That’s all I want to say about her.’
‘Okay,’ she said, shaken by the closed look on his face.
‘I have family in the UK but no one close since my grandparents died.’
‘So no guests from your side of the family for our imaginary wedding?’
‘That’s right. And I consider the subject closed. In fact, I’ve had a gutful of talking about this stuff.’
