“Well, he does say I’m not like the other women he’s been with.”

“Well, that sounds good. What’s bad about that?”

“Nothing. I just—” I let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not completely myself when I’m with him. Not yet, anyway. And what happens if I do show him who I really am, and he doesn’t love that Sarah?”

“But maybe all these Sarahs are you.”

“Maybe.” I wasn’t convinced.

“Okay, but what about Josh?”

“Huh?” She’d caught me off guard.

“Which Sarah does he know?”

I froze under Lindsey’s loving, but potent scrutiny, because what she was asking, was something she already knew—something I already knew. Josh knows you, Sarah.

“He knows me.” It was almost a whisper, but that one word, “me”, was loaded with all that embodied my relationship—my friendship—with Josh.

“Well, there you go, then. Maybe that’s your answer,” she said sensibly. Even so, that hard knot in the pit of my stomach was now trying to gnaw its way out.

“Yeah, but Josh doesn’t know if he loves me. Maybe the real Sarah isn’t actually lovable.” Tears stung my eyes. I brushed them away, annoyed with myself. Poor me. Two men to choose from and poor, poor me. I dreaded the dose of tough love I expected to cop from the other end of the couch. Instead, a hand reached out and took mine.

“Oh Sarah,” she said, her voice thick with empathy, “That is complete bullshit and you know it.” We exchanged a look, then a smile, and then we both laughed long and hard and completely at my expense.

“I’m opening the pinot now. Drink up,” she said, as she climbed off the couch. My laughter trailed off and I downed the rest of my wine, not even registering how it tasted. Lins was right to call me out on the self-pity, but I was still stuck in my dilemma.

If I was my true self with Josh, but he wasn’t sure how he felt, or if he wanted a relationship with me—and if James was falling in love with me, but there were times with him that I didn’t feel like me—didn’t that mean something?

Maybe it meant that I wouldn’t end up with either of them.

Was I okay with that?

I probed the thought, and it hurt. I really did want to be in love, in a relationship, but as much as I felt for both men, I couldn’t force Josh to love me, and I couldn’t pretend that I was my truest self when I was with James—not yet, anyway. Hopefully, I would know more after the trip to New Zealand.

Hopefully.

Chapter 20

“Here you are, sir,” said the bellboy as he opened the door to our suite. My eyes flew straight out of the floor-to-ceiling windows to the spectacular view of Lake Wakatipu, which unfurled long and narrow to the south and at a right angle to the west.

The mountains, which in some parts seemed to emerge directly from the shoreline, were reflected in perfect symmetry on the water’s surface, and two promontories of low-lying land were covered in dusty dark-green fir trees and chartreuse-coloured grass. Even though it was summer, there was a dusting of white on the highest peaks, and in a feat of magnificence, nature had chosen the same brilliant blue for the sky and the water.