The light at the end of Lords Pier, merely a faint glimmer in the distance, sent a rush of panic through Kate. How would Tilly react when Kate turned up on the doorstep? Over the past month, Tilly had been persistent with the text messages. At least twice a week, Tilly’s name popped up on her screen, the messages short and sweet, but the flirtation had been limited, leaving Kate with no real indication of where they stood. What if, during their month apart, Tilly had realised that she didn’t want this? After all, that was why Kate had given her space—to consider it. What if Tilly needed more time?

A droplet of rain fell from the gutter and splashed onto her hairline. Quickly, she pushed off the wall, swiping it away as she wandered down the starboard deck until she reached the stern.

Suddenly, every worry swept away like the pull of the tide.

Her heart lurched to her throat at the sight of Tilly standing in the corner, grip loose on the railing and hair dancing in the breeze as she stared out into the dark void of the bay.

Kate bit down on her lip, and watched, enchanted, as Tilly’s freed hair danced on the warm wind. If only her seventeen-year-old self could know, she thought, that one day she’d meet Tilly Wattle at the stern of the cross-bay ferry and they’d find their forever.

With hope threatening to burst from her chest, Kate’s feet carried her down across the deck, around the “wet floor” safety sign, closer, closer… As she stepped off the anti-slip flooring, her shoe screeched loudly against the sealed floor. Tilly swivelled on the spot.

Tilly’s eyes widened briefly. Relief crossed her expression, and as though she knew their struggle was over, her gaze beckoned Kate forward. The familiar, flowery scent of Tilly’s perfume was alluring. Kate sidled up next to her at the railing, only a breath of space between them. As Kate rested her forearms on the warm metal, feverishness surged through her.

The moment drew long. “So,” Kate started, “I guess I’m not the only one irking Bob Sheppard tonight asking him to stop at Lords.”

“Asking Bob to detour doesn’t make him cranky.”

Kate quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe not when you ask.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You could ask Bob Sheppard to navigate you to the tip of Italy in his tinny and he’d stock up on six months’ worth of fuel to get you there.”

Tilly smacked her lips together. “That’s not true.”

“It is—you’ve got him under your charm.”

“Don’t be silly. He’s old enough to be my grandfather.”

“So was your fiancé.”

Tilly’s cheeks hollowed as she bit back a grin. “Not quite.”

Kate tilted her head and surrendered to the tug at the corner of her lips. “Not far off…”

They fell into an easy silence. The day’s news burned on the tip of Kate’s tongue, aching to be told. A colony of flying foxes soared overhead and together they raised their gazes to the starlit sky until the bats disappeared into the darkness of the bay. “My sister had her baby today,” she said.