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“That…sounds like a lot…” he said, carding his fingers through my hair and kissing me on the forehead.

“It is. But a nice kind of a lot.”

“Good. I’m proud of you, love.”

My heart soared. The words were foreign but so desperately wanted.

“You are?” I looked up and he nodded, leaning down to brush our noses together.

“So proud,” he whispered with a soft smile that made me melt.

He leaned down to kiss me and I craned my neck up. Just as he was about to connect our lips my jaw unhinged and I released the biggest, most soul-liberating yawn directly into his face. He froze, blinking at me before bursting into laughter as he manoeuvred us up and off the floor.

“Come on, weirdo,” he said as he scooped me up into his arms and took me to bed.

He helped me change into a set of pyjamas he picked out himself; soft pink and frilly and seemingly his favourite style on me. He tucked me in and held me close so I could rest. No attempts to do anything more than take care of me.

I snuggled close and relished the calm I felt for the first time since I could remember.

I was about to fall asleep when I felt him prop himself up on his elbow and look down at me.

I cracked an eye open to look back.

“What?” I asked.

“I just… A slide? Out of all the things in the world…”

“Barth suggested I have them walk the plank out the window.”

He looked appalled. “A slide was a great choice,” he said quickly. “Well done, my love. Sleep tight.”

And sleep tight, I did.

nineteen

Cowardly cliffs

Ryan

“It’s been weeks, Ryan!”

“I know, Mum, but I’m working. It’s a big job and I need to see it through. You wouldn’t want me quitting right in the middle, would you?”

“Don’t you dare. The Brolyns aren’t quitters, not like that good for nothing…” She trailed off pointedly and we both let the matter lie where it was. Dead in the past. There was no point giving any life to it.

“Then I can’t be home for dinner tonight.”

“But I made your favourite,” she complained.

“Freeze it for me. I’ll visit…soon.” I stumbled over the words, my heart wrenching a little talking about leaving. It didn’t sound right. Not when I asked for forever in the moment of passion. Not when Owain had promised it to me, drunk on pleasure and my lips on him.

I couldn’t base my decision on that alone, but I couldn’t dismiss it either.

“You don’t sound so sure about that. Surely you have a timeline for when you’ll be done. Do I need to call your manager?”

“No!” I shouted. “Dear god, woman, no.”

She sighed and there was some chatter in the background that sounded decidedly male in tone. I narrowed my eyes.