The beach below us is sandy near the dunes, but there’s a sharp line of pebbles and stones that marks the high-tide line. From there to the sea, the shore is covered in rounded pebbles in every shade of white and grey you can imagine. Some the size of peanuts, some the size of baseballs. There are also what appear to be huge, dark grey boulders littered across the beach.
At first, I’m confused by the way the huge boulders are moving. Am I still half-asleep and hallucinating?
But no. I’m not. Because they’re notboulders.
I don’t…
What the…
I can’t…
Dotted all across the beach, some on their own, some in small clusters, calmly reposed like pin-up models on a fifties beach poster, are about two hundred grey seals. I’ve never seen anything like it in real life. They’re so calm, even in the presence of humans, although some of the bigger ones perk their heads up sharply.
I can see some of the seals are much smaller in size and still fuzzy. The baby seals – pups? – are playful, and as they flop around chasing one another, their observant mothers keep a close eye on Nash and me to make sure we’re not a threat. Is that what they’re doing here? Nesting, or colony-ing, or whatever the word is for seals? I can’t remember the word, I’m so taken aback.
“They’re so beautiful,” I whisper in awe to Nash, though unable to look away from the seals. “Peaceful.”
“Mmhmm,” he replies, quietly.
He pulls a picnic blanket from the backpack he brought from the car and lays it out onthe ground where we’ll have an incredible view of the seals.
I plonk my arse down, thankful the blanket does a little to protect me from the cold ground, and continue to gaze in wonder. A warm blanket is draped around my shoulders, and I look up at Nash.
I can’t believe he brought me here. He picked me up at the crack of dawn, brought me coffee exactly how I like it, brought a smorgasbord of breakfast pastries to make sure there was something I would like, showed me the most incredible sight I’ve ever seen, and now he’s wrapping me up to keep me warm. He sits beside me, his shoulder touching mine.
The sky was dark when we arrived, but now a soft haze of gold shifts over the horizon, illuminating the frigid sky to a cold, pale blue with the slightest hint of yellow as the winter sun rises. As we watch, the sun crests the horizon, bringing a bright, almost blinding, beam of golden light, warming our cold faces.
I take a deep breath, relishing the clean air, the salty tang, and the crash of the waves below. The last sunrise I saw was a cold, rainy morning in Coventry, huddled up against the spire on top of that old cathedral tower. The city below me was buildings upon buildings uponbuildings, and while I’ve always loved living in cities, this view out over the sea is something special. Majestic. Ethereal.
The honks and barks of the seals as they sing provide a soundtrack to this winter morning, and the man beside me – the man who showed me just how magical this place is – provides a solid strength to lean on.
Before I know it, his gloved thumb traces my cheek, and I freeze. It takes a second before I realise he’s wiping away a tear. He tilts his head at me in concern, but the golf ball of pain in my throat won’t allow me to make a single sound.
Nash wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side, where he holds me as I cry. His weight against me is grounding, and I feel like I can let go of everything I’ve been burying deep inside. All the pain, the fear, the regret. The memories of my parents’ cruelty and my grandmother’s love.
In this moment, I wish I were in a different time and place in my life. A time when I’ve healed from my past. A place where I have something to offer a man. Maybe even a man like Nash. But I have so much baggage weighing me down. When he gave me that card for the counsellor, I knew I should make an appointment, but… I’m afraid.
“You OK, little rabbit?” The nickname makes me laugh wetly, snot and tears not making me an attractive prospect in any way. Nash hands me an honest-to-God handkerchief, and I melt inside.
God, I wish things could be different. I want him to want me, the way I’m beginning to fear I might want him. I want him to protect me, care for me, and support me while I figure my life out. I want him to hold me and tell me what to do when I need that from him. To kiss me softly, then make me breathless.
But alas. It’s not to be. Even if by some miracle this unicorn of a man wasn’t straight, I’m in no position to be looking to start anything with anyone. Let alone someone who has their shit together so completely. Competence and capability, remember. Those two things may just be my Kryptonite.
Well, that and a sexy-as-fuck bear of a man, with a kind heart and the warmest brown eyes. I tilt my head so it rests on his shoulder and let out a sigh. If I can’t have all of that, then at least maybe I can have a bloody good friend. And maybe in the future…
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“I was thinking about how I got here,” Ilie.
“What do you mean?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested.
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
“Well… you asked for it.” And that’s how I end up telling Nash my whole sob story. Being caught by my dad and promptly kicked out, with a black eye to boot. Being taken in by my grandmother, going to uni, and then losing her. Finding out her will never got changed and losing the security she’d promised me when my dad kicked me out again.
“I lived on the streets for a while after that,” I say, wiping my nose on his hanky. “I-I… did some things I’m not proud of.”
