Deep down, Kate wasn’t sure religion was something that she had any interest in seeking. A lifetime ago, her sexual awakening had beat her spiritual awakening to the finish line. At the time, one thing had been made clear: when it came to spirituality, for girls like Kate, there were extra hurdles to jump, and at the end of the race, she was already well and truly out of breath.

Was that history the root of Kate’s indifference? Perhaps. Perhaps not. She resented religion for being the one thing that had kept Tilly from her. She’d always viewed faith as the other woman with whom she could never compete. Faith had always been prettier and kinder and offered Tilly a purpose Kate never thought she could. But now, things were different. Life had changed, and so had they. It didn’t have to be one or the other.

“There are churches,” Kate started, “Christian churches that will open their arms. You just have to seek them out.”

Tilly sighed. “I think we both know that’s like finding a needle in a haystack.”

“Yeah, but they’re out there. It’s not one or the other, Til. There are options.”

Tilly forced a smile. “You sound like my therapist.”

“You were in therapy?”

“You look surprised.”

“I am.”

“Why does it surprise you that I was in therapy?”

“I’m not sure,” she said honestly. She considered it for a moment. “Maybe because I thought you’d go to a priest for counselling.” She paused. “Or maybe because you were so confused in Melbourne—you know, in our hotel room—like you didn’t have the…the…” God, what’s the word for it?

“The what?”

“I don’t know, I guess the tools to figure out how to handle what you were feeling.”

Tilly scoffed. “Well, I wasn’t talking to Doctor Fennel about this three months ago.”

“No, I know, that wasn’t what I was trying to say…” What am I trying to say?

“You know, I haven’t spoken about this with anybody,” Tilly said.

“I know.”

“All these months, I’ve kept it close to my chest,” she said, voice strained. “The good and the bad. All of it. I haven’t told anyone.”

Kate hated to see the hurt so plainly written on Tilly’s face. She wet her lips, tasted salt from their breakfast. “Maybe you should tell someone.”

Tilly’s eyes widened slightly.

“Therapy,” Kate clarified. “I mean, the city is only an hour or so away. It could help if that’s something you’re used to doing.”

“Yeah,” Tilly said. “Maybe you’re right.” She fixed her gaze on Kate. Her lips parted as though she were about to say something, but she stopped herself, looked back out at the water.

Curiosity burned. “What?” Kate asked.

Gaze averted, Tilly smirked. “I was going to tell you something but then I imagined the smug look you’d get when you’d hear it and it turned me off the idea.”

Kate arched an eyebrow. “You can’t say something like that and then not tell me.”