Free The Rose Petal Beach by Dorothy Koomson

he said, immediately on defensive. ‘If you don’t believe me—’
    ‘I do believe you,’ I cut in. ‘Of course I believe you. I’m only curious how you could afford a car when you’re working at two different bars just to keep your head above water and afford college as it is.’
    ‘I’ve been working extra shifts during the day so I could save for this.’ He draped his arms over my shoulders like a casually thrownon cardigan. ‘Do you like it?’
    ‘I love it,’ I replied. ‘But … How can you take on more daytime shifts if you’re in college most days?’
    ‘I took a break for a while. I’ll go back to it soon.’
    ‘Scott! College is important.’
    ‘Says the woman who didn’t even go.’
    ‘Yeah, well, I can always go another time. You’re already there, you don’t want to throw away that opportunity.’
    ‘Do you know why I bought you a car?’ he asked, changing the subject.
    ‘Ummm, no.’
    ‘Because I think we should do it. I think we should go to Brighton with that promotion you were offered.’
    ‘No, we already talk—’
    ‘No, no, look, staying here because of me is stupid. And, no matter what you say, it is because of me.’
    ‘There’ll be other opportunities.’
    ‘TB, you’ve got a promotion to become head of Corporate Communications for a multinational company, and you’ll be the youngest person to hold that position in their history. Do you have any idea how proud of you I am? You can’t throw that away for a boyfriend.’
    I leant my head back so I could look up at him, he bent his head to look down at me. ‘You’re not just a boyfriend,’ I said. What happened had fundamentally changed us and how we were together. Our love was never hidden, always spoken, always shown. Our time together was always relished and revelled in.
    ‘I say, we pack up everything in this car, and we head on down to Brighton. We get there, get settled and then, you know, think about trying again in a couple of years.’ I knew exactly what he meant: we both wanted to try for another baby, we both knew we were scared in case it happened again. We would, though, when the time was right, when everything was in place. ‘I can always use the car to come back for college until I find another course down there.’
    ‘Will you marry me?’ I asked.
    His whole face softened into a smile I had never seen before. It needed to be remembered in paints, on a canvas, anything, because it showed the texture of happiness. ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘Yes, I will. Can’t believe it’s taken you so long to ask.’
    ‘Well, I had to be sure, didn’t I?’ I joked before returning my gaze to the car.
Our
car. ‘This is so special,’ I said. ‘This is a present with a whole new life attached to it.’
    ‘You deserve it, my love.’
    ‘You do realise I can’t drive, don’t you?’
    ‘What?’ He was stricken. ‘I thought you could. Oh, great, typical Scott, buy a present without checking the person can actually use it.’
    ‘Just tricking you!’ I laughed.
    ‘You!’ he laughed and tickled and tickled me until, gasping with laughter, I agreed never to trick him again.
    My fingers close around the smooth metal of my platinum wedding ring. I rotate it back and forth around my finger. Nothing makes sense. In all of this, nothing is making any sense.

4

     
Beatrix
    Here’s the thing I don’t like about being single: waking up alone. The rest of it I really can handle, no matter what other people might try to tell me. It’s this part I find hardest.
    I long to have someone to sleep with. You can get sex anywhere, it’s all around you and you can pluck it out of the air almost – if you’re willing to compromise (a lot) on quality, usually – but it’s difficult, really difficult to find someone you connect with enough to sleep with.
    I love waking up with a man’s arms around me and his body next to mine, feeling like I am part of something whole instead of mostly incomplete. I like it and I