For a moment, the world seemed to shrink, the magnificence of the room fading into the background as the space between them narrowed. His hand still lingered lightly on her arm, and she was acutely aware of his touch, the way it sent a ripple of something electric through her.
‘I should probably get back to the group,’ she said softly, though her feet remained rooted to the spot.
‘Probably,’ he murmured, his voice low and filled with suggestion.
For a moment, it felt like they were back in London, where time had seemed to stretch and compress at the same time around them, where every stolen glance and brush of hands had felt like the most natural thing in the world. Clemmie knew she should pull away and rejoin the others, but with Oliver’s gaze holding hers she couldn’t bring herself to break the spell.
‘I’ve been thinking about you,’ Oliver said, his voice softening, his usual confidence giving way to something raw and unguarded. It was a rare vulnerability that stopped Clemmie in her tracks, her pulse quickening. ‘The other morning in the kitchen?—’
‘We can’t go back to where we were. We’ve had our chance,’ Clemmie interrupted, though the words felt like a betrayal of her own heart. Why had she said that out loud? Because if she were honest with herself, she wanted nothing more than to go back, if not to London three years ago, then at least to yesterday morning, to see what would have happened if Betty hadn’t interrupted them.
Oliver tilted his head, studying her as though trying to decipher the truth behind her words. ‘But we almost…’ he said quietly, stepping closer, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip. ‘And it took me right back to my apartment in London. That week with you… it was the best week of my life. It felt…’ He hesitated, his voice full of emotion. ‘It felt right. I’ve not had those feelings since.’
Clemmie’s heart raced faster at his confession, her heart warring with her head. ‘It’s just going to complicate things,’ she said, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound resolute. ‘I let my heart overrule my head. Anyway, this isn’t the placeto have this conversation.’ She glanced around, hoping the surroundings of the yacht would remind her of where she was and why she needed to stay grounded.
‘But I want this conversation. I can’t think about anything else.’
‘What is there to say? You made your choice.’
‘I chose you, Clemmie. I asked you to come with me, I practically begged you,’ said Oliver, his voice laced with frustration.
Clemmie tried to ignore the knot forming in her chest.
‘I remember,’ she said quietly, her mind flashing back to that night in London.
Oliver’s gaze softened, but there was an edge to his words now. ‘You didn’t want it then. You didn’t want any part of it. I get it, I do. But damn, Clemmie, I needed you. I wanted you to travel the world with me, be there with me… to shareeverythingwith me. My life, my passion. You know how much I love my work. You knew that from the start.’
Clemmie met his eyes, feeling the weight of his words. ‘I couldn’t leave. I belong here on Puffin Island, with my business, my granny. I wanted to share all that with you but it was never going to be enough for you,’ she murmured. ‘How could it, when you were so used to jetting off around the world every other week?’
Oliver looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. ‘I wasn’t trying to take you away from your world, Clemmie. I just wanted to share something that I loved with someone I cared about. I wouldn’t have wanted you to give up your whole life. We could have at least had a conversation. Found a middle ground that satisfied us both.’ He let out a deep breath, frustration giving way to something more vulnerable. ‘I thought… I thought if I asked, if I showed you how much it meant to me, that you’d see I wanted to make it work. I guess I was wrong.’
Clemmie’s heart skipped a beat, the tenderness in his voice pulling at her in ways she hadn’t expected. ‘Oliver, you weren’t wrong. I just…’ She paused, unsure how to finish. ‘I have my dreams too, and they’re so far removed from yours.’
‘I know, I get that now,’ he interrupted, but there was no anger in his tone. ‘My job is a part of me. I love travel and I want to see what makes the world go around, but… It’s never been just about the food or the stories or the travel. It’s aboutconnection.About bringing the best parts of life together and sharing it with people you care about and I wanted to do that with you.’
Clemmie swallowed a lump in her throat. She had always known he loved his work, but hearing it from him now, seeing the emotion behind his words, made it feel different– real in a way it hadn’t before. ‘I didn’t know you felt like that,’ she admitted softly.
‘With you, I felt it, Clemmie. After things ended between us… The food tasted flat without you. The stories fell short without you. I just kept thinking,Maybe next time.’
He glanced up, searching her eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘I wanted you to be a part of it. To be a part ofme.’
Clemmie swallowed, the reality of his words sinking in. ‘I hear you.’ She took hold of his hands. ‘But for me, right this second, I need to stay focused. Winning this competition could change everything for me.’
Oliver’s expression softened, but his gaze didn’t waver. ‘What about after the competition?’
Her stomach clenched at his question. She forced herself to smile, a hollow attempt to deflect. ‘Nothing will have changed. You’ll still be travelling the world, and me? I’ll be pouring my heart into my café. My cookbook will be selling all over the world, and hopefully that will mean that tourists will flock to Puffin Island to try the recipes I’ve made famous.’ She hesitated, the words catching in her throat as she added, ‘My dream is topass the business down to the next generation… to my children. I need to secure the best possible future for the café for them.’
Oliver’s smile returned, playful but tinged with something deeper. ‘For that, you’ll need a husband… unless you’re telling me you’ve got married since we last met. That would be a stab to the heart.’
‘No marriage,’ she said softly.
‘Phew,’ Oliver said with an exaggerated sigh of relief, placing a hand over his heart. ‘I’m glad to hear that.’
His teasing tone broke through her defences, and she found herself laughing despite the tension between them. ‘And why would you care?’ she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
Oliver’s grin faded, replaced by a sincerity that took her off guard. ‘Because you matter, Clemmie,’ he said simply. ‘You always have.’
The air between them shifted, charged and electric, as if the weight of everything unsaid in the past three years hung in the space separating them. Clemmie opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss for words. She wanted to believe him, to let herself get swept up in the moment, but the practical part of her, the one that had built her life brick by brick on Puffin Island, held her back.
