A Christmas Wedding(33)

‘Yes,’ I whisper. ‘But I’m not on the pill right now.’

He gets up from the bed and goes over to his suitcase. I brought a couple of condoms with me too, just in case, but I’m glad he’s also prepared.

My stomach is awash with butterflies as he hovers above me, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. I pull him into me and we begin to move as one, staring into each other’s eyes the entire time. It is intense. It is incredible. It feels like coming home.

We’re lying, entangled, afterwards, when there’s a knock on the door. We look at each other in alarm.

‘Room service,’ a voice calls.

We both laugh. We’d forgotten we’d even ordered.

‘Impeccable timing,’ Alex mutters with a grin as he drags on his jeans and goes to answer the door.

We don’t make it as far as dessert before we’re going for Round Two.

It is devastating saying goodbye to Alex after what turns out to be one of the best weeks of our lives. We had a lot of heart-to-hearts while he was here, talking about the future and what we want from it. Ultimately, we decided that we want each other, and somehow we know we need to make it work.

He’s only just set up his business, he loves where he lives and is very close to his family, but I know he would give it all up and move to Australia if I asked him to.

I don’t ask him to. And I will never forget the look on his face when I tell him I’ll quit my job, accept Rachel’s offer and move back to England. He gathers me in his arms and presses kiss after kiss on my forehead before clasping my face in his hands and snogging me senseless.

As if I were going to give up getting one of those every day for the rest of my life.

My boss’s face almost falls off a cliff when I resign.

I have a feeling I was more valued than she let on, but this does not work in my favour when she insists I work my full notice.

Rachel, however, is delighted and offers to sponsor my work visa. She promises to tell me whose wedding I’m doing when we’re face to face. No amount of, ‘Do they work on EastEnders, or Corrie, or have they been on The X Factor…?’ sways her. She’s staying silent until I sign my confidentiality clause.

Alex and I speak on the phone every day – sometimes twice a day – and, although physically we couldn’t be further apart, by the time I’m packing up my things and walking out of my empty Bondi Beach studio flat, I feel closer to him than ever.

I do go for one last cuppa at Lucy’s house in Manly, and it’s strange stepping off the ferry and walking past our old home. I feel a pang as I cast a poignant look up at the balcony. There are no wetsuits hanging outside.

We did have good times there. But life moves on. I’ve moved on. Lachie has. Even Elliot has started seeing someone – a friend of Fliss’s older sister, bizarrely. And Lachie is still with Fliss. I’m at peace with it.

I’m sad to say goodbye to Lucy, though. I’ll miss her – and Nathan, Finn and now little baby Izzy, too. Lucy promises that they will all come and visit me next year when they’re in the UK and I tell her I’ll hold her to it.

‘Are you going to see Lachie before you leave?’ she asks.

I shake my head. ‘I haven’t spoken to him in months.’

Elliot was the one who told me that he’s still with Fliss. I don’t make a point of catching up with El, but he does work near me in the city, and sometimes we bump into each other and go for a coffee.

‘I think you’ll find him at the beach if you change your mind,’ she says. ‘He and Nathan have gone surfing.’

My head is still swimming with this information as I walk back to the ferry terminal via Manly Beach. I stand and stare out at the grey waves and the slick seal-like surfers sitting up on their boards. Pelicans fly low across the ocean as my eyes seek out Lachie. He looks my way and seems to freeze.

He catches the next wave in.

‘Hey!’ he calls, his smile hesitant as his feet pad across the sand towards me, his black wetsuit streaming with water.

‘I was just saying goodbye to Lucy. She told me you were down here.’

He rakes his hand through his blond hair, several shades darker than it would be if it weren’t wet.

‘Nathan told me you’re moving back to the UK,’ he says.

I nod. ‘The day after tomorrow. Rachel has asked me to do a wedding with her.’

His face lights up. ‘So you’re finally going back to wedding photography?’

‘At long last.’

‘Yeah, at long last,’ he agrees reflectively. ‘And Alex? Are things still happening there?’

I nod, managing a small smile. ‘Yeah. We’re good.’

‘I’m happy for you,’ he says after a moment.

‘How’s Fliss?’ I ask.

‘Good.’ He smiles, too, now.

‘I’m happy for you, too,’ I say, and I mean it. I’m not sad, but emotion pricks at me behind my eyes as the years we spent together tumble away.

‘Do you regret it?’ he asks out of the blue. ‘Choosing me?’

‘No.’ I shake my head, trying to hold back the tears. ‘I loved the time we spent together. Most of it, anyway.’

‘Me too,’ he says, his voice husky. ‘Good luck with everything, Bronnie.’