Epilogue

Hart

Itake Daisy’s hand as we step onto the beach. It reminds me of the first time I offered her my hand on this very spot seven months ago.

‘Who would’ve thought my emotional recluse would have a romantic streak a mile long?’ She swings our linked hands, her expression pure mischief. ‘I mean, there’s only so many dusk walks along a perfect beach a girl can take.’

‘You love it,’ I say, enjoying our banter now as much as I did when we met.

‘And you love checking out your handiwork.’

She knows me too well. Since the vacation programme for foster kids launched a week ago, we’ve taken a stroll along the beach every night at this time so I can check on the first batch of visitors.

Daisy has accused me of being like an overprotective father but I can’t help it. I want the best for these kids because they deserve a break.

It took months to renovate the old villas, which gave Daisy time to launch our campaign in spectacular fashion. I even let her use several shots of me as the unofficial poster boy for this. The response has been overwhelming and the Gem Island Kids Vacation Club is booked solid for the next eighteen months, with so many foster families and kids craving a slice of paradise and a break from their daily drudgery, even for an all too brief week.

‘Don’t you mean our handiwork?’ I drop a peck on her cheek. ‘I couldn’t have done all this without you.’

‘BS and you know it. You did this.’ She pats my chest over my heart. ‘Straight from here.’

‘We did it,’ I reaffirm, enjoying being part of a team for once in my life.

The terror that I’ll eventually lose her hasn’t left me. I don’t think it ever will because it’s as much a part of me as those damn knife scars.

But I’m getting better. With each passing day that I wake to see her smiling face on the pillow next to me, the fear is abating. I can live with it. I can’t live without her.

‘Come on, you sentimental sap.’ She tugs on my hand and we fall into step, in sync, in love, so damn much it hurts.

As we near the end of the beach I hear kids’ laughter and it’s the sweetest sound ever. There’s a bunch of them, about fourteen of varying ages, playing cricket in the garden behind the villas where they back onto the beach.

I hear good-natured ribbing and more laughter, and damned if I don’t want to cry.

‘You did good,’ she says, sliding her arm around my waist. ‘And I love you, every big-hearted, generous inch of you.’

Her complete and utter devotion makes me want to cry more, so I dip my head to whisper in her ear, ‘I have some very generous inches waiting for you to appreciate when we get to the cave.’

‘Sex maniac.’ She laughs and snuggles in tighter.

‘Yeah, but I’m your sex maniac, for however long you want.’

‘How about forever?’

‘Sounds like a plan.’

My voice breaks a little and she knows how much her promise means to me, the sheen in her eyes as we lock gazes telling me that maybe, just maybe, I can believe in forever, with her.