Page 23 of Destined For Forever

Feelings, she’d believed in her darkest moments, she’d never experience again.

8

Sean spent the rest of the day trying not to think about Lily. He hunted down distractions to stop himself from playing their almost-kiss on a continuous loop—not to mention wondering why history seemed to be repeating itself—and busied himself helping Ethan out around the inn. Yet nothing would take his mind off that perfectly romantic snowy moment.

Logically, he felt like he should hate the idea of romance.

He’d comforted one too many lonely hearts weeping over a beer at work to believe that love would solve the world’s problems. And he thought Valentine’s Day was totally a scam to sell things that people didn’t need. If you asked any of his mates, they would tell you Sean was not a red roses and heart-shaped chocolates kind of guy.

But on the inside…

Well, seeing Lily tear up had tugged on his heartstrings. A lot. It made him want to pluck the moon from the sky and hand it to her on a silver platter. She was one of the most driven, hard-working people he knew, and to see her falter was like shattering a long-held belief. In his mind, Lily could do anything. Be anything.

And if she was struggling, what hope did the rest of them have?

“I need you to relax for a bit,” Ethan said, cutting into Sean’s thoughts as they finished stacking a load of firewood against a wall. “Seriously, if you do any more work, I’m going to feel obligated to refund your accommodation.”

Sean laughed. “It’s no sweat.”

“I appreciate the help, but I’m not joking. You’re supposed to be on holiday, not spending your day working for free.” Ethan swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. Despite the chill, chopping wood still warmed the body up well. “Get inside before Monroe comes home and has my hide for letting you help.”

Sean stifled a smile. He got the impression that Monroe, though she appeared sweet and lovely, had a bit of a fiery streak, whereas Ethan was a more chilled personality. He certainly wasn’t about to cause a marital argument, especially not when the reason he helped was as much about distracting himself as it was about being a good person.

He headed inside and saw a figure sitting in front of the fireplace. Lily was curled up in the corner of the couch, a notebook and pen in her hands. She was writing furiously, the tip of her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration.

If it wasn’t for the backdrop of the crackling fireplace and winking lights of the Christmas tree, he could have fooled himself into thinking he was looking at an image of the past. Swap the couch for their high school’s brick wall and Lily’s cosy jumper and leggings for a blue and white checked uniform dress… and everything else was the same.

He loved watching her create.

“What are you working on?” he asked as he walked over and sat down next to her.

Lily’s head snapped up, and she pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, you startled me.”

He chuckled. “When you get into the zone, you really get into the zone.”

“It’s true. Brock once said a bomb could go off while I was writing, and I wouldn’t even notice it.” The words tumbled out of her, and then she clamped her lips shut, as if trying to squish them. But it was too late. That horse had already bolted.

“It’s fine, you can say his name. He’s not Voldemort.”

“Brock wasn’t always a jerk. Not in the early days.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about him. I, uh… after you mentioned that story I’d always wanted to write, a scene popped into my head. I figured since this is the closest thing I’m going to get to a vacation in the next century, I may as well take advantage.”

Sean cocked his head. “Maybe this is a stupid question, but if you really want to write a book then why don’t you make time for it?”

“Because I’m a screenwriter. That’s how I get paid, so working on something that I don’t have confidence will get published is…” She looked up to the ceiling as if searching for the right word. “It feels like a waste of time.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “You didn’t know your movie scripts would go anywhere in the beginning, though.”

“True.” She nodded. “But at some point you have to pick a lane, you know? Screenwriting stuck and now I need to put all my energy into that, so I can see how far I can take it.”

Sean wasn’t sure he understood that logic. “Can’t you put eighty percent of your energy into that and leave twenty percent for the passion project?”

She made a pfft sound. “You know I only have one speed. If I decide to do something, I’ll throw everything I have at it.”

To the exclusion of something else she wanted, it seemed. “Work can’t be everything.”

“Maybe, if you don’t want to reach the height of your potential.” The words rushed out of her and then she clamped a hand over her mouth as if trying to stuff them back in. “That sounded really judgemental. I’m sorry. I don’t hold other people to that standard—just myself.”

“You’re entitled to your opinion. I guess work has always been a necessary evil for me, rather than something I wanted to do.” As far as Sean was concerned, the best bits of life were all the things that happened outside work—friends, surfing, his volunteer surfing lessons. “But that’s why I have a job and not a career.”

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