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“Everything OK, sweetheart?” Dad’s concern makes me turn, but not stop.

“No, but it will be.”

I lead Luke out before Dad can reply and before Mum returns from the bathroom. I don’t stop when we get outside, just keep hold of Luke’s hand and march him down the street and around the corner. When we get to where I parked my car, I’m searching all my pockets for my keys, but my hands are shaking too badly. I growl, drop my handbag and rifle through it angrily. Luke quietly hands them to me.

I let out a long breath and sit on the curb. “Thanks.”

He sits beside me, ignoring all the people walking past staring at us, and waits until I’ve calmed down. Eventually, I get up, unlock the car, and we get in. I flop back against the driver’s seat.

“What happened?”

“I found out things about my Dad I wish I never knew.”

Luke frowns at me.

“He cheated on her! More than once I think, and she doesn’t care.”

“Ah.” There’s a pause. Then he sighs. “And she thinks you should go back to Oliver?”

I nod. I feel guilty even admitting it. Even though it’s not my opinion.

“Is that what you want?”

“No!” I fling my arms around his neck and hug him tight. “Not at all! I’m mad at her for even suggesting it.”

He hugs me back and we sit there for a long moment until my anger boils down again to a simmer. I pull back and start up the engine. “Sorry. Are you hungry? Let’s go find somewhere else for breakfast. Somewhere with no chia seeds?”

He smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”

I pull out onto the road. “I just wish I knew what to do about work and about the coast house. I’ve never even thought about a long distance relationship before, but here we are.”

He rests his large hand on my knee in a spot that’s already beginning to feel like his. “Here we are. And I don’t want to be anywhere else. Not if you’re not there.”

God, I’m so grateful for his patience and his faith in me. I feel like another guy would get mad or at least be a bit frustrated, but Luke just gives me that reassuring smile and lets me tell him all over again how annoyed I am with my Mum.

By the time we’ve found a new cafe and we’re finally eating breakfast, I feel a lot better. That was just the first encounter. Mum and Dad are always resistant to change. I remember the year I took my first overseas holiday by myself. The year I turned eighteen. They’d convinced me to go to England to meet some distant relatives and stay in this quaint old village just outside London. Then halfway through my gap year, something called to me and I hopped on a train to Italy and never looked back. I spent the next three months wandering through art galleries and eating gelato every day, even when the weather got cold.

When I rang my parents from Milan, they freaked out. Tried to tell me it would be too hard, that I didn’t speak Italian, and it wasn’t safe for me to travel in a country like that by myself, staying in hostels. But it just took them a while to get over it. They even came out to spend Christmas with me in Bologna and it was one of the best family Christmases I can remember.

They’ll come around to Luke. It’ll just take time.

TWENTY THREE

Luke

Mia remains upset after the brunch with her parents. She tries to put on a brave face, but I can see right through her. Tegan and I cook her a nice dinner and we stay in and watch rom-coms. Mostly I sit back and let the girls talk, but there’s a warm glow in my chest when Mia insists on staying snuggled up with me on the sofa the whole time.

The next day, I play tourist and she takes me to Manly, and we walk along the wharf. It’s nice, but it’s no Rosella Bay. I don’t think either of us has our heart in it.

She’s just hopped in the shower before we head to bed when a message from an unfamiliar number pops up on my phone. Frowning, I open it, assuming it’s just a wrong number.

Unknown number: This is Stephen Sinclair, Mia’s father. I got your number from Oliver because there’s something you and I need to discuss urgently. It would be in your best interests to meet me in half an hour. And don’t let Mia know

Nothing about this message sounds good to me.

Normally, I wouldn’t keep something like this from Mia, but the weary look she gives me when she comes out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, with her wet hair clinging adorably to her face, is enough to give me pause.

She’s stressed about working things out with her parents as it is, and she has to go back to work tomorrow. What if this is something I can nip in the bud and leave it off her plate?

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