Half a year had passed since Cain had left for the USA. That equates to one hundred and eighty-two days or, if you want to be picky, four thousand three hundred and eighty-two hours. Not that I had been counting. No… I was trying hard to forget him and move on with my life.

Really I was.

My job was amazing, and I had settled in well to life on the Isle of Skye. So much so, in fact, that I couldn’t remember how it felt to live in North Kessock. The old dears I worked with were fantastic and I knew I was making a positive difference to their lives. I had job fulfilment and very little stress, except occasionally when I happened to see a couple in their eighties or nineties holding hands and looking at each other with such love, the old emptiness came back and I couldn’t help but mourn the fact that I never would grow old with the one person my heart loved above all others. But it was good enough. It had to be. My colleagues were a great bunch and they had quickly introduced me to the live music scene of the Isle.

Esme visited as often as she could, and Dermott was still trying to win my heart. He was giving me space and time, but he was as tenacious as ever. Although if I’m honest, I was still very shocked that he had feelings for me at all. That particular revelation wasn’t one I would recover from in a hurry.

Flowers would often turn up from Dermott, delivered in the little white van from Big Bloomers in Portree. The old chap who carried out the deliveries—Errol—was the husband of Aileen the florist, and I had been getting deliveries so frequently that he and I were on first-name terms. He had even stopped in for tea and shortbread on a few occasions, and we had sat in my kitchen, chatting and putting the world to rights.

People around the place were so friendly, and it was good to be a part of something so positive. Even though I’d had reservations before moving, I knew there and then, sitting with Errol at my wee table, that I would never move back to the mainland.

It was a summer Saturday, and Errol had just been by to deliver yet another huge arrangement. He smiled knowingly as he handed the flowers over to me. With the bouquet was a little card that simply read:

I want to marry you someday Kelly.

Please say you’ll think about it.

See you soon,

D

I smiled but rolled my eyes and placed the fragrant flowers in a glass vase that I’d had to buy especially for my frequent deliveries. He was persistent, that was for sure. And the more I thought about him, the more I decided that a life with Dermott wouldn’t be so bad. He certainly loved me. But the fact remained that I didn’t love him.

His visits, whilst infrequent, were purely platonic. He took me out for lovely dinners, and we took walks along the shores of Loch Portree. We talked and we laughed. He slept in my guest room and brought me breakfast in bed. Being with him felt… comfortable, like an old pair of jeans that you’ve had forever and can’t bear to throw out. And the more time I spent with him, the more I felt I would be silly to throw Dermott out.

The last time he had been to see me, he had brought a ring and I had cried at the gesture, unable to let go of the sinking feeling inside. It was a white gold band with a single diamond set into it. He had told me that it was a symbol of what he wanted for us in the future. He had asked me to think about it but demanded I didn’t answer there and then. I couldn’t have said yes, and I suspect he knew it.

He hadn’t visited for a month or so since that, and I actually did miss him. Well, his friendship and company anyway. I took that as a good sign. The ring had been on my right hand a few times as I had tried to get my head around us. But I still couldn’t bring myself to wear it on my left.

I felt sure he’d be surprising me fairly soon, because regardless of the fact that I had pleaded with him to call first, he insisted on turning up on my doorstep with more flowers. I had laughed when Errol commented that he got the impression Dermott was keen to help our local economy.

Once the latest delivery was in water and placed on the coffee table in the living room, I took my mug of steaming, fresh coffee into the back garden and breathed in the warm air that smelled of wild flowers and fresh pine. The small wooded area at the back of the cottages seemed to have a life of its own in the summer, and I had already seen rabbits and encountered a young deer prancing through the trees. The island was vibrant with colour as the June sun cast a warm glow over my surroundings and a feeling of serenity washed over me.

I was right where I was supposed to be.

And Dermott had said he wanted to be wherever I was.

Making a concerted effort to rid my mind of confusing thoughts of Dermott, I sat there thinking about the fun of the previous week when I had accompanied some of the residents I worked with on a walk around the local countryside. But as I was lost in an amusing memory of one of the staff stepping in some kind of animal dung, I heard the doorbell. I guessed it was the postman, as he hadn’t been and I was expecting a delivery of books that I’d ordered online. I placed my coffee mug on the wooden garden table and made my way into the house. I opened the front door and was surprised to find Errol had returned.

“Sorry to bother you again, lass, but I must have missed this batch back at the shop. I got a wee telling off from Aileen when I got back.” He chuckled as he handed me a hand-tied bouquet that was more modest than the last one but beautiful nonetheless.

“Good grief, he’s on form today, isn’t he?” I laughed.

“Aye, lass. That he is. Just marry the lad and put him out his misery, eh? Maybe then we’ll be able to find some new customers!” Errol turned and walked back toward his van.

“Can I offer you some coffee for your trouble, Errol? I’ve just made a pot and I baked chocolate-chip shortbread this time,” I called after him.

“Oh, I’d love to, but… no thank you, hen. I should get back before I create more trouble for myself.” He laughed as he climbed into the driver’s seat and switched on the engine. Pavarotti belted out “Nessun Dorma” from the van’s CD player, and it floated through the open window as the van pulled away. Errol waved his hand and I watched him retreat back to the main road.

I closed my front door and carried the beautiful flowers through to the living room. Plonking myself down on the couch, I pulled off the card.

“Okay, Dermott, what do you have to say for yourself this time?”

I read the words aloud. “Meet me on the shore of Loch Portree at three. I’ll be sitting by the boathouse near the jetty.”

I smiled. “Ah, so you’re here for your next not-so-subtle woo-Kelly visit, are you?” My heart skipped anxiously as the thought that he may propose again flitted through my mind. What the hell would I say? How could I let him down and stop his persistent proposals? I wanted to return to just being friends. I needed friends.

There was no time to dwell on it. I only had an hour to get ready.

I placed my iPod into the docking station and hit random. “Set Fire to the Third Bar” filled my auditory senses and I quickly hit skip. I didn’t need memories to cloud the good mood of the day. My dear friend was coming to see me, and he wouldn’t want me to be all puffy faced after crying over someone from my past.

After showering, I shaggily dried my long wavy tresses and dressed in a floaty white cotton skirt and a turquoise vest top. My cheeks were flushed from the heat of the water, and so I needed no other make-up apart from a little berry lip gloss. I slipped on my beaded turquoise sandals and grabbed my car keys.

The drive to the shore wasn’t too far, and I had the windows of the car open to allow the warm summer breeze to circulate around me. A smile played on my lips as I took in the vista. The vast open spaces made breathing feel so much easier than in the large town I had come from. The cloudless blue sky above acted as a stunning backdrop, highlighting the rugged mountains of the Quiraing.

After a short journey, I pulled off the main road into a gravel car park. I climbed out of the car and walked through the line of trees to the shingles at the edge of the loch. There was no sign of Dermott at first; but as I glanced around, I could see I could see a figure off in the distance skimming stones, and so I made my way toward him.

The sun was dazzling me, and as I tried to shield my eyes, I realised my mistake. Dammit! That’s not bloody Dermott. I huffed and turned. There was another figure further back in the direction I had just come from, and I was just about to begin walking again when someone grabbed my arm from behind me. With a pounding heart, I swung around, ready to hit out—and was stunned by the most amazing pair of cerulean eyes.

“C… Cain?” I gasped with wide eyes and a racing heart as his mouth crashed into mine.