‘No?’
‘No.’ I shake my head. I turn away from him, staring out at what I can see of the twelfth hole. ‘It’s not him. It’s me.’
He’s quiet. The moon dips behind a cloud, darkening the course momentarily.
‘He told me he didn’t want to get m
arried. When we first started dating, I mean. He said, “I’m not into marriage. Don’t believe in it”. And I was okay with that. I didn’t really care, to be honest. I had no idea if I’d even be with him in a month’s time. Marriage was nowhere on my horizon. But then we were still together a month later, and a month after that. Six months later. A year later. And suddenly I felt like I’d closed myself off to a whole world that maybe I did actually want to be a part of.’
‘Did you talk to him about it?’ The question is asked with clinical precision, the same businesslike professionalism he brought to the conference room earlier today.
‘Sure. Once. He smiled and told me he loved me but that he hadn’t changed his mind. Marriage wasn’t for him.’
‘I see. And you said...?’
‘I said that I didn’t really care, even when I did.’ I shake my head. ‘I told myself I was being stupid, that marriage is just a certificate and the option of changing your name—which you can do anyway. I told myself it didn’t mean we wouldn’t spend the rest of our lives together, wouldn’t have kids together. Wouldn’t be together, just like a married couple. I told myself loving someone was about accepting all their unique quirks and foibles, and this was one of his.’
I suck in a gulp of salty night air. ‘Then we broke up and he got engaged to someone else and I realised he did believe in marriage.’ My voice is raw. ‘He believed in it. He wanted it. He just didn’t know that until he met someone who made him want it.’ I angle my face to Jagger’s. He’s watching me with a guarded intensity that strips me raw. ‘He just didn’t want me.’
He compresses his lips, his eyes scanning my face.
‘I showed him all of myself, and he walked away. And I gave up all of myself—I gave up what I wanted in life, and love, because he asked it of me, and he walked away from me. I don’t still love him, Jagger. This isn’t about him. It’s about how he made me feel—how I let him make me feel.’ I tilt my chin a little, even when I’m sure my eyes are awash with all the hurt my heart carries.
‘Compromise in a relationship is important,’ he says finally. ‘And caring for someone enough to give them what they need, to sacrifice in their name, is the only way a relationship can work.’ He rubs his hand over mine on the balcony. ‘He just didn’t want to sacrifice back.’
‘He did for her.’
He expels a sigh. ‘Maybe. Maybe not.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s calling you from his honeymoon. Do you think he’s giving her everything she wants?’
Something like anxiety swirls through my gut. ‘I’m not getting involved in some weird love triangle. He’s married...’
‘Sure. I’m just saying he sounds like the kind of egotist who likes to make women feel a little insecure—to make himself feel better. Denying someone what they want is one way to keep the upper hand in a relationship, right?’
‘I guess.’ I shrug. ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’
‘Do you need to speak to him while you’re here?’
‘No.’
‘Do you need his business input? Because you seem to know everything about every blade of grass and grain of sand on this island...’
I smile unconsciously at his praise. ‘I do.’
‘And your buyer is very, very impressed...’
Pleasure and pride swell inside of me.
‘So he’s calling because he misses you, or he likes the idea of her being jealous. Either way, he’s a fuckwit.’
I laugh softly. ‘Yeah, he is.’
‘And now you’ll always know you had kinky sex while he was pining for you...’
I shake my head a little. ‘I don’t think that’s the case...’