‘No,’ Lissa says, getting to her feet to punctuate the point. ‘It’s okay. I’ll come.’ It’s just the same as a bath, right? And all right, she doesn’tlovebaths, but she is also very unlikely to drown in one because she can’t swim.
The ‘celestial flotation pool’ is located in a softly lit room at the back of the spa. Lissa tries not to look at the shallow water as the spa technician explains the mechanics of the pool, and how it’s best to just lie still and let yourself gently float around. She offers up pool noodles, which Lissa takes, grateful she’s not the only one.
She tells herself to stay calm as she follows Mia and Darcy into the warm water. She grips the edge of the pool as she reaches waist deep, which seems to be as deep as it gets. She is safe, she tells herself firmly, willing her heart to stay steady. She doesn’t need to be able to swim. She can stand up any time she wants to.
‘All right,’ the spa technician says brightly from the sidelines. ‘Relax, enjoy, no talking – and have fun! I’ll be back when the thirty minutes are up.’
The lights dim as she leaves the room, and on the ceiling, stars flicker to life. Lissa takes a deep breath as she lies down. She feels a moment of panic at the feeling of the water underneath her, even with the pool noodle behind her head. But she forces herself to stay calm, stay still. And hey, she reallyisfloating. No swimming needed.
Her heart rate is still too fast, and she can feel a prickling in the tips of her fingers, an early warning if she lets it escalate, but she’s okay. She can do this – she is not about to have a panic attack in a bloody spa, for fuck’s sake. She stares up at the fake starry sky, breathes in the smell of lavender. She can hear the distinctive spa-like music softly chiming in the background. This is okay, she tells herself again. She’s here, she’s fine, she’s doing this.
She closes her eyes, flexing her fingers on top of the water. She’s in control. She’s safe.
She’s back there, at that same loch in the Scottish Highlands. Like before, the edges of this memory are a little blurred, shifting in and out of focus. But she notices one key difference to last time. She is notbythe loch – she is on it. In the boat. With him.
His sleeves are rolled up, showing tanned forearms. His pale green eyes watch her, reflecting the glistening surface of the water, the rolling heather-clad hills a brighter green in the background.
‘What?’ she asks. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
He shakes his head. ‘Sorry. I just … I know this isn’t an easy day for you. I suppose I’m just trying to work out if you’re all right.’
Her stomach squirms at the reminder of what happened all those years ago – of the fall that could so easily have been prevented. But she doesn’t want to think about it. She doesn’t want to be sad. Because yes, this date is always a reminder of something terrible, a reminder of who she and her parents lost. But they are not the only ones who have lost someone, are they? She wishes she could change it, is sure she’ll never let go of the guilt she feels at what happened. But today she wants to forget about that. She wants instead to make the most of the fact that she is still here, the way she so often forgets to. She wants to do things that make her feel alive.
Which is why she’s out here, on this boat. Because today felt like the day to say yes – to not let herself be controlled by fear, but to take chances instead.
‘I’m fine,’ she tells him firmly.
He nods slowly, contemplating her as though he’s not sure whether to believe her. Then he lets go of the oars, allowing the boat to drift to a stop. He reaches out, across the small distance between them. The boat sways beneath her, but she’s not afraid – not today, not with him. His fingertips brush lightly against her cheek, pushing aside a wisp of hair. His eyes are locked on hers, and her breath hitches. She knows that look. He’s going to kiss her.
Instead he eases back, and she fights to control the disappointment. ‘I’ve been thinking,’ he says slowly.
‘Oh?’
‘I know I have less reason to be here since my father died, but I do still have the estate.’
‘That’s true,’ she says slowly, wondering where he’s going with this, and trying not to get her hopes up.
‘So maybe I could stay, try my hand at running it.’
‘Maybe you could,’ she agrees.
‘And maybe …’ He reaches out, takes her hand in his. ‘Maybe you’d want to help me with that?’
There it is, that spike of excitement. She cocks her head. ‘Help you how?’
His thumb traces a circle on her wrist. ‘Marry me,’ he says – and she feels it, that tilting of an axis. This – this was the reason to come here today, this was the reason to say yes to going out on the boat. Her life has led her to exactly where she’s meant to be, she’s sure of it.
She meets his gaze, and knows from the way his smile grows that he can see her answer in her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she says, leaning forward to kiss him. ‘Of course yes.’
She laughs, and he joins in. He is pulling her to him now, both of them needing to touch. ‘And maybe we could build a room where you could paint, if that’s what you—’
She kisses him again, tasting woodsmoke and salt. ‘I don’t care about any of that,’ she says as she breaks away. ‘I only want you.’ Because with him she’ll be complete, she knows it. And what is today, the anniversary of her sister’s death, if not a reminder of the fragility of life, a reminder to grasp the things you want with both hands, because you don’t know how long you’ll be around to take them.
The boat wobbles again, and he eases back, pressing his forehead against hers. Need is coiling low in her stomach as she hooks her arms around his neck, and she sees from the way his eyes have darkened that it is a reflection of his.
‘Later,’ he murmurs against her lips. A promise.
But she can’t sit still, not now, not with this excitement coursing around her system, this hope for the future. She gets to her feet right there in the middle of the rowing boat and laughs as she lifts her arms to the sky.
