‘Heaven,’ I agreed.

We ordered an early lunch of coffee and tortilla wraps with avocado and cheesy eggs before deciding, after the café owner’s suggestion, to head for the back of town towards the estuary of the river. It was wide, with huge grassy banks along the trail. The water was still and perfectly reflected the odd cloud from above, like the water by the lodge had done on the night of our arrival in Margaret River. I wondered, again, what it would have been like to travel here with Alexander. Would he have hired a car and driven us places? Would we have ended up straying from the itinerary and finding a tiny town in the middle of nowhere, an adventure tailor-made for two? I doubted it. He could maybe have surprised me with something as romantic and spontaneous, I suppose but … no. Alexander and Patrick were polar opposites. Totally.

I liked how Patrick talked with the waitstaff and the owner at the café. I liked how he talked to everyone. Alexander sometimes treated service staff like they were beneath him, but I don’t think I ever really let myself notice at the time. It was just Alexander, who he is. When you love someone you accept them for who they are, don’t you? You don’t ask them to change or alter themselves, because then they wouldn’t be who you fell for. But being in such close quarters with another man I was starting to see all the ways Alexander wasn’t right. Or, some of the ways, anyway. I couldn’t deny that I still missed Alexander, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he was, indeed, here instead. It was hard to think of him, but I couldn’t not, either. He was all I’d known for so long. He made me who I am. But then Patrick did something kind – offering me the first bite of his vanilla slice or surprising me with a road trip – and I’d think, Is this what I’ve been missing? Did I settle for scraps and this a full meal?

Not that it was romantic with Patrick, of course. I was only making that comparison because he was a man. I wouldn’t be having those thoughts if Jo was with me, or Kezza or Bri.

Obviously.

‘Let’s climb out onto the rocks, shall we?’ Patrick’s voice cut through my thoughts. ‘Whoa, you were miles away there. You okay? You’ve been quiet since the café.’

‘Yeah,’ I told him. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. To be honest with you I was thinking about Alexander. Again.’

I’d meant to poke fun at myself, but Patrick’s face fell and he set his mouth in a firm line.

‘Not in a good way,’ I offered. ‘But, just thinking about what a different trip this would have been with him.’