I’d forgotten something key about myself, something that couldn’t change regardless of whether I was to blame for my family dying or if I found someone I loved; I was meant to be alone. In the whirlwind of Aster entering my life, I’d forgotten my natural state.
This job offer sliced through the fragile hopeblooming inside me. My love for Aster didn’t matter; he was meant to go home. He sounded so damn happy. He would leave, and I would be alone, and everything would be as it should be.
I lowered my head to the ground, keening as tears trickled down my nose and onto the scrubby grass. Knowing this was how things had to be didn’t make it any less painful. My chest felt cracked open.
One day of hoping did this. I should have been more realistic, should have focused on the end date.
Things between Aster and I were always going to finish. He had to go home and live his life, while I would stay here and endure mine.
I lingered on that lonely hillside for a long time. My forehead pressed into the ground and I hugged tight around my torso to keep some of the pain inside.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
ASTER
‘This is incredible,’ I babbled. ‘I’m going to be a flower scholar. I will literally be paid to research and chat about flora. Lecture halls full of people will have to listen to me. We will be colleagues.’
Returning home had become a bleaker prospect as the day I would leave Doughnut neared. At least now, as I stumbled home an even more broken-hearted wreck than when I left, I’d have a good job. It would add variety to my life; I could weep over missing Callum at homeandat university.
‘Since I’m assuming the detail was lost on you, I did say job prospects. Plural, not singular.’
‘Oh.’ I fidgeted on the sofa. ‘Having applied for no jobs, you’ll have to forgive me for not realising there were multiple offers on the table.’
‘You probably shouldn’t broadcast that you didn’t apply for either of these positions.’ Kristen’s fingers clacked against her keyboard. ‘Your peers might murder you.’
‘My lips are sealed. At least until someone asks, and then I’ll tell them everything.’
‘Of course you will.’ Kristen sighed. ‘Job number two is a little different.’
I wiggled into the cushions. ‘Hit me with it.’
‘I assume you’ve talked to Bonnie? She’s the mayor on the island.’
‘We have conversed.’ Now wasn’t the time to reveal the weird and wonderful interactions I’d had with Callum’s sister. I’d wait until I was back in London and could witness Kristen’s pinched expressions.
‘She applied for funding on your behalf.’
My mouth dropped open. ‘She did what?’ I asked, the words slurred by my slack-jawedness.
‘She said you met with the council about it?’
I thought back to my lunch with the dowdy council members. Maybe Bonnie telling me to wear something smart really had been her version of helpfulness. It was hard to tell.
‘This job would be based on the island. After you finish your master’s, you would return for a five-year study of the island’s flora, which would constitute the research part of your PhD. You could make a book out of it, if you were that way inclined. You would do occasional teaching, as we’d keep you affiliated with the university here, and I’m sure others would want a piece of you every time you ventured off the island.’
I’d have to let Dad know: the true way to render me utterly speechless was to offer me a job that not only sounded freaking amazing in its own right, but allowed me to stay with the man I loved.
Because I totally loved Callum. I could admit that now that I wouldn’t have to leave him forever.
‘I want that one. Option two. Where do I sign?’
Kristen chuckled. ‘I remember a lot of enthusiasm for option one as well.’
I sputtered. ‘Uneducated enthusiasm. I didn’t know there could be something better.’
‘I don’t see either option as better,’ Kristen mused. ‘Anyway, the deadline to decide is in a month’s time. Have a think about it when you’re back here. You’ve been on that island for a while, you may have forgotten what a Starbucks tastes like.’
‘Fuck you, Kristen. I would never be that thoughtless.’ Although, come to think of it, my last Frappuccino was a distant memory. ‘I’m not going to change my mind. Option two all the way.’
