Page 40 of Sunsets and Happy Ever Afters

“That’s lovely. I think I’d want the same.”

Silence fell between them for a moment. Maya let Sam be with his thoughts. Then, involuntarily, she shivered. She should have picked up her coat now they were away from the warmth of the firepit.

“Oh, you’re cold,” Sam said, taking off his jacket. “Here, put this on.” He slipped the jacket around Maya’s shoulders. It was warm from Sam’s body heat and warmed her instantly. It carried his scent too, the lingering aroma of his aftershave. She appreciated the gesture.

“Won’t you get cold?” Maya asked.

“No…” he said, not very convincingly. He did have a jumper on, but he probably could feel the chill. “Here, let’s sit over by those rocks. It might give us some shelter while we watch the sunset.”

Sam led the way, and Maya huddled beside him, feeling guilty he’d lent her his jacket. The least she could do was get close enough to share some heat.

“What happened to Jade?” Maya asked before thinking it through. “Oh, sorry, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

Sam shook his head. “No, it’s fine, now. It’s been four years. I still miss her.”

“I’m sure you do.”

After a pause, Sam spoke, his voice remaining steady. “She was thirty-four, and we had been trying for another baby, when she got ill. She was diagnosed with advanced colon cancer. She had a couple of operations, about twelve cycles of chemotherapy and was finally given the all clear.” Sam shook his head with a huff of disbelief. He looked Maya in the eye then. “Four months later, we were told it was back. But it had spread aggressively and was now incurable.”

“I’m so sorry.” Maya placed her hand on Sam’s arm, rubbing gently.

“She had just turned thirty-seven when she died.”

“So young. It’s no age.”

“She had incredible strength.”

They fell silent, watching the beautiful sunset. Maya was unable to find the right words for something so tragic. Sam picked up a small shell from the sand and threw it, as if setting himself free from his trance. “I used to come down here often as a kid. I loved this beach.”

“So why did you move away?”

“I wanted to be an engineer — it paid better than being a beach bum. And when you’re younger, you can find this stuff boring. You don’t realise what you’ve got.”

“You probably appreciate it more now because you don’t live here, too.” Maya pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs.

“That is true.” Sam made semi-circles in the sand with his trainers. “Mum’s lived here all her life. She inherited the farmhouse years ago — it was our family home before she turned it into a bed and breakfast. Her brother inherited the estate.”

“Estate?”

“It’s not quite Downton Abbey,” Sam said, with amusement. “He inherited the debt too, but Tristan, our cousin, has found a way to make it work, to keep it within the family, like mum with the farmhouse.” Sam kept his gaze on the tideline, picking up small shells and pebbles and throwing them at a bigger rock jutting out of the sand. “Anyway, enough about me. Have you always lived in Portishead?”

“Kyle is from Cornwall. I’m originally from Bristol. Mum and Dad are still there, but I moved out to Portishead — it was cheaper at the time, and felt less hemmed in. I like being by the water, too. We — Kyle and I — thought it would be better to bring the kids up there. One day, we planned to move to Cornwall.” Maya tried not to sound too exasperated. Kyle had got a new job and said he’d be fine commuting if it worked out — but then he’d met Jenna. He had ended up moving closer to work and Cornwall, but without Maya and the kids. “Now he’s in Exeter, the kids don’t see their dad often. He was supposed to have them this Easter, but he let me down — took a last-minute holiday to Spain with Jenna and Lola.”

“Lola?”

“He’s had another child with Jenna, his girlfriend. He says she wasn’t planned. She’s probably about four months old now. My two don’t get much of a look in.” Maya sighed. She was disappointed in Kyle and the way he’d ditched his children.

“So, your ex is a bit of a dick.” Sam looked at Maya, catching her eye.

She laughed. “Yes.” He was probably just saying it to make Maya feel better — and it did.

“He’d have to be, to let an attractive, fun-loving woman like you go.”

Maya pulled a face. “You do realise Jenna is eight years younger than me?”

“He’s still a fool… Beauty isn’t just skin deep.”

Maya elbowed him. “Enough with the flattery. I’m not really sure I’m fun-loving. I look a mess today — so I don’t feel the slightest bit attractive.” Especially when the wind had whipped her hair into knots and made her look like something a bird would nest in.

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