“I… I don’t know. Yes. There’s this ache in here,” I touch a hand to my heart, “as if there’s something missing and the only thing that will fix it is the weight of his chest. Is that crazy? It doesn’t make sense.”
Marnie blows a long breath over her steaming tea. “With Brian, I knew. The instant I saw him.”
“Really?”
“We were both invited to the same fancy-dress party. I hate them, so I turned up in all-black and told the host I had another invite afterwards – which we both knew was a fucking lie.” Marnie laughs. “God, I’m an arsehole. Anyway, then Brian walks through the door in this stupid pterodactyl costume he’d clearly made himself, with these enormous wings that kept knocking over everyone’s wine. And I took one look at him, and this littlevoice inside me woke up and said:yes.That one. That’s the one for you.”
“Because of his pterodactyl costume?”
“Because of the effort he made. And because he knew he looked stupid, and he didn’t care – in fact, he found it funny. And I loved that. I thought, this man will never make me feel bad about myself. This man will never take life too seriously. This man is perfect for me.”
“And he is.”
“And he is.” Marnie laughs. “Of course, he’s not actually perfect. And sometimes he does make me feel bad about myself. And sometimes we both take life too seriously. It’s taken him ten bloody years to work up the courage to marry me – touch wood – and I won’t pretend that hasn’t been hard. But when I look at him I can still hear that voice, and it still saysyesevery single day.” Marnie puts her hand over mine. “Love doesn’t have to make sense to be right. But real, lasting love… that’s more than a feeling. It’s a choice.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready to make that choice,” I say quietly.
“Don’t you?” Marnie asks. “Why are you here, Rowan?”
“What do you mean? I’m here for you, and the others! For Single Woman Walking!”
“Is that why you chose this walk? On this week?”
I freeze. She’s right. There’s a part of me that hoped we’d see him. That he’d be doing the walk too. After all, he does it every year.
It isn’t only that: I want this walk. I want to do it with these women. I love having them here, and I want to show them the place where I rediscovered myself. I’ve grown so much since then, worked on being comfortable by myself, on forging new friendships, on taking risks. And it’s working.
For the first time in a long time, I really love my life.
And I want to keep loving it.
But, right or wrong, I also want him.
“It’s okay to want to share your life with someone.” Marnie echoes my thoughts. “That doesn’t mean you haven’t changed.”
“He probably doesn’t feel the same way anyway. The things he said…”
I can still hear them. The way he said them. Cold. Cruel. Did he mean them? Is that how he felt? Or was it something else, a protective instinct? Fear?
I’ll never know. Unless…
“It’s not like he’s come looking for me,” I continue. “It’s been a year. He could have called.”
“He could,” Marnie replies evenly. “I want you to be happy, babe. That’s all. Whatever that means to you.”
“I know. I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
We sit in silence and sip our drinks. The sun dips lower over the loch. It’s almost time for dinner. Last time I was here, I could barely even light my stove. This time, I’ve brought my own lentil mush. Although, if Marnie asks, I could be tempted by a visit to the pub…
“Married, hey?”
“Mrs Miller? It’s got a ring to it, don’t you think?”
“It sounds great.” I glance at her. “I’d better be maid of honour.”
“Actually, I’m thinking about asking Lucy…”
