Page 38 of One Weekend in Sydney

My heart swells so big in my chest that I’m afraid I’d burst. Before I know it, I’m saying the words that I never thought I’d get to say to her again. “I love you, Tara. I know that sounds crazy. We’ve only spent a night together this weekend after ten years of being apart. But I can’t help how I feel. I loved you then, I still love you now.”

Tara’s eyes pool again. Her silence extends to a length that makes me wish I hadn’t been so impulsive. The last thing I want is to pressure her on?—

“I think I know why I held on to my hate for you for so long,” Tara says softly. “Even though Odette kept telling me you’ve changed, I was afraid that if I forgave you, I’d have to acknowledge that I missed you. And that would have been so very stupid, because how could I accept what you did to me? But I know now it wasn’t the whole story. Far from it.”

She runs the tips of her fingers on my lips. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did. I can’t believe that someone would do such a thing for me,” she adds in a teary whisper.

“Because I love you, and I never stopped.”

She nods. “I love you, too, Mason. Then and now.”

My face breaks into a smile I can’t contain. Then I kiss her senseless, pouring all my relief and elation into the act. “Can you catch a later flight?” I ask against her mouth.

Tara answers without hesitation. “Yes.”

Epilogue

TARA

One year later…

After a successful dinner meeting with local business owners, I’m back in my office to grab my bag. It’s after eight. Thankfully, there’s plenty of time to catch the full moon up on?—

“Knock, knock,” says someone at the door.

I look up and grin at Silvo, Moonstruck Cove’s ageless plaque-maker. “Hi, Silvo. What are you doing here so late?”

“Thought you might want to be the first to see this.” He hands me his newest creation—a round plaque with horns in honour of the Glowing Devils, who will be coming back to Moonstruck Cove as a group for the first time in ten years. The rock band will be performing at an outdoor concert at the foot of Lover’s Hill, our legendary landmark, and the whole town is buzzing with anticipation.

“This breaks the record for the most suggestions on where we should display this plaque,” Silvo says, handing me a sheet of paper. “Everyone can’t wait for the council’s last word on where it should go.”

I nod, glancing at the long list of suggested places, ranging from a special stand in the middle of the town plaza to the still-standing park bench that the four members of the Glowing Devils accidentally set fire to when they were still rowdy teenagers.

Believe it or not, plaques are one of our tourist attractions here in Moonstruck Cove. We celebrate every exciting thing that happens with a plaque, mostly of the humorous variety. They’re everywhere and are part of the uniqueness of our beautiful small town.

“I hope that even though the excitement is sky-high, we can keep this as a surprise for the Glowing Devils,” I comment.

Silvo snorts as he takes the plaque back. “I say good luck with that. But, yeah, it would be nice if we could surprise them.”

I purse my lips. “I’ll see what I can do. I want to talk to the filmmakers doing the Devils’ tenth anniversary documentary and suggest the inclusion of their plaque unveiling. They’d want the Devils’ reaction to be genuine.”

Silvo points his forefinger at me. “That’ll be a great way to showcase our plaques to the world! Another great idea, Mayor Davies!”

“Thanks,” I say with a laugh as Silvo waves goodbye.

I’ve gotten used to the fact that everyone calls me Mayor Davies, including well-respected septuagenarians who have done so much for the community. Mooners aren’t generally a formal bunch, but when I stepped off the plane after my one weekend in Sydney a year ago, I was greeted by a large crowd carrying signs that said, “Welcome Home, Mayor Davies.” They haven’t stopped calling me that since. Fortunately, I won the election—by a landslide, if I may say so.

I feel it’s a term of endearment just as much as a sign of respect because we’re usually on a first-name basis in this town. We’d even call the Prime Minister of Australia by his first name if he came to visit.

It took me a long time to stop cringing at the memory of me bursting into tears at the support I received that day I came home from Sydney. I was so embarrassed by my blubbering! But the Mooners were so lovely. They even asked when Mason was coming back to visit!

Well, Mason had been visiting me at least twice a week since then, and often staying for the weekends. Occasionally, I visited him in Sydney, but we both preferred for him to come here instead. The poor guy had spent so much money on airfare just to date me!

But all that stopped six months ago. Mason doesn’t visit anymore.

Because…

He’s moved back to Moonstruck Cove and moved in with me!

---