Bella stared at her, as if a little taken aback and a whole lot lost for words. This kind of outburst was rare for her and Merrin felt sapped by it, as if the emotionally tiring day was finally catching up with her.

Bella stepped forward and placed her hand on her arm. ‘Are you all right, my love?’

‘God! For the last time today! I’m fine! Absolutely fine!’

Bella leant in and kissed her cheek. ‘You’re not the only one who’s found today tough. I thought Luuk and I might get married, and look how that’s turned out. I miss him.’ She bit her bottom lip and swiped the tears that filled her eyes. ‘But life goes on, Merry, it has to.’

‘It does, my darlin’.’ She regretted snapping at her wonderful friend, who had her own shit to deal with. ‘And for what it’s worth, if the Flying Dutchman doesn’t know how fabulous you are, then he isn’t worth losing a moment’s sleep over. Love you.’

‘I know. Love you too.’ Bella wiped the remainder of her lipstick from her mouth on the back of her hand.

Merrin turned on her heel, keen to get some fresh air. It had been a pretty wedding, a fabulous day and Ruby was in her element, but in truth she couldn’t wait to get in the car and drive back to Thornbury, away from the Port Charles gossip, the sharp winds that blew inland, her family’s well-meaning, challenging stares and Miguel’s apparent inability to pace his booze intake. His overindulgence had, according to reports from her dad and Robin, led to him vomiting over the harbour wall on his way home from the Old Boat Shed the previous night. She cringed at this image of him. It was not the Miguel she knew and loved, preferring the sedate version of him who turned up to work every day looking sharp.

She thought about Bella’s words and considered the possibility that she might indeed be treading water. If there was the smallest chance it was true, it threw up two questions – first, what did that say about her? And second, what the hell was she going to do about it?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN MIGUEL

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

MIGUEL

Vera Wilma Brown was loaded up and ready to head off. Miguel slammed the boot shut and watched Merrin hold her mum tight in a drawn-out goodbye that felt like an intrusion to watch, before kissing her sister briefly on the cheek. It warmed him to see the displays of love so freely offered and put a pang of regret in his stomach that his own family was not that close or that demonstrative. He would have liked it.