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“That one over there could be a coffee mug.”

“Huh, yeah, I can see that.”

“Do you see anything?” I asked.

She was silent for so long I took a quick side glance and found her chewing her lip. “Uh.”

“What is it?”

More silence.

“Erin?”

She turned her head at the same moment I did, both of us aware of the tiny amount of space that separated us. I could tell by the way her eyes flicked to the inch of grass between our shoulders, then to my chin, her gaze travelling up my jaw before finally reaching my eyes. A small tremble went through her, and she held my gaze for a beat before she spoke, “It’s so weird hearing you call me that.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but only my sister ever really calls me Erin anymore.”

“It’s a pretty name,” I blurted, and she shot me a small smile. “Thanks.”

“So are you going to tell me what you see in the clouds, or are you going to leave me guessing?”

“It’s not really appropriate.”

“Can clouds be inappropriate?”

“They can when they’re forming the shape of a pair of lady’s breasts,” she blurted, then immediately burst into laughter while covering her face.

I chuckled deep. “Where? I can’t see them.”

“I swear they’re there.” She pointed. “Just to the left of your coffee mug. Keep looking.”

“Ah, yes, now, I see them. Who knew clouds could be so pornographic.”

“Bloody perverts,” she laughed, and we fell into companionable silence.

I heard her exhale a long breath before rolling onto her side. I felt her gaze on my profile again, the moments stretching out, before she emitted another breath and said, “I guess we should finally talk about it then.”

14.

Erin

It was surreal and nerve-wracking to be alone with Tristan, both of us now aware that I was the girl from his past, the one who’d stayed for a few weeks before leaving without a trace. I’d spent the last day and a half fretting, fearing how our relationship would change. But so far, Tristan remembering me had only seemed to endear me to him. I’d been worried out of my mind that he’d be mad I’d kept it a secret from him, but he’d smiled at me more in the last thirty minutes than he had during the last couple of weeks combined.

I felt terrible for avoiding him, especially when I’d stepped into the cottage earlier and noticed the signs of strain in his appearance. His shirt was dishevelled, his hair a mess, stress lines on his forehead that weren’t normally there. He was worried about the re-opening, and there I was thinking only of myself and how him remembering me would change things between us.

Now we lay side by side on the grass, a spot I’d frequented regularly back when Sloane and I had first moved into the cottage. It was bizarre to see the place empty when it was once full of my aunt and uncle’s things, the furniture and items amassed over a lifetime together. But I didn’t feel sad about it. There was something hopeful about the blank canvas. This cottage would be a happy place for the guests who stayed here, a cosy refuge away from the hustle and bustle of the busy seaside town.

I lay on my side, staring at Tristan while he kept his eyes on the clouds.

“I guess we should finally talk about it then,” I said, and his gaze flicked to me. He turned his body so that he was on his side too, and my heart fluttered when he was fully facing me. Having his complete focus sent a nervous thrill through me.

“You make it sound like a chore,” he said, his eyes trailing over me, pausing for a second on my lips before moving back up. “I told you already, I’m not mad at you.” A short silence fell as he glanced away then looked back, “Although I would like to know why you kept your identity a secret all this time.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I asked, and he shook his head. I felt my cheeks heat as I confessed, “I was ashamed. The way I behaved back then, leaving without telling you where I was going, it was cruel. You gave me so much help during the situation with my sister, and then I just left.”

“You were eighteen and afraid. I’m hardly going to blame you for what you did when you were basically still a kid, Erin. And besides, you should be the one mad at me for not recognising you in the first place.”