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“What? What do you mean?” Marlow looked like he’d just been slapped. Again.

Joel chuckled.

“Anyway, you might meet her tomorrow night,” I said to Vinnie. “Bridget said something about getting her to help set up for the party.”

“Hmm. I’m curious now. Where’s she from?” Vinnie asked, sitting back in his seat.

“No idea. I didn’t get that far. I just saw her, freaked out, spoke about five words to her, then got the hell out of there.”

I didn’t mention the strange sensation when we first saw each other. God only knew what they would’ve said about that.

Joel chuckled and we all looked over at him. He shrugged. “It’s just funny – like you and Marlow are total opposites.”

Vinnie joined in, smiling. Marlow looked confused. Suddenly, I realised what he was getting at. My pride wouldn’t allow me to let that go by without comment.

“I’m not a monk or anything,” I said. “It’s not like I haven’t –“

Too late, I realised my mistake. I hadn’t. Not since Em disappeared. Shit. I
was
a bloody monk.

Vinnie put a consolatory hand on my shoulder, suddenly serious again, although Joel was still grinning from ear to ear.

“Don’t worry, bro. We’ll sort you out. Maia, was it?”

I felt sick. I could barely be in the same room as her without having heart palpitations, and I was going to have to somehow talk my way out of teaching her how to surf without coming off like a total dick. No way was I capable of being around her, no matter how curious I was. Seeking out her company would be like walking into a burning building. Naked.

“That’s not funny,” I said. “Can you please just keep your nose out of it?”

Vinnie shot me a look, taking another swig of beer. I knew what that look meant, and Vinnie knew I knew it, too.

He could push me all he wanted, I didn’t care. I wasn’t ready, for any of this.

ALEX HAD SPENT AN
hour sitting at the end of the bar, glowering at me. I could see he was working himself up and I didn’t want to be there when he hit the ceiling. I tried to ignore him, but he was living up to his nickname.

‘The Prince of Darkness.’

It was so apt. Whenever he was around, he cast a black shadow over everything. I knew what he was thinking. It was the same thing, all the time. Sometimes he said it aloud, sometimes he didn’t have to.

It’s your fault.

Maybe he had a point. Regardless, I couldn’t sit there under the microscope any longer. I had mentally started planning my escape. Vinnie must’ve picked up on it, despite what he’d said earlier about me standing up to him. He called Jas, and before I knew it¸ I was bundled out of the pub and into her waiting car. It wasn’t until I hit the fresh air that I began to realise just how drunk I was. Or, more to the point, how drunk
we were
.

“There’s my baby mommy,” Vinnie purred, climbing into the front seat and leaning over to plant a wet kiss on Jas’s cheek. “You’re a life-saver, babe.”

I grinned, half-lying, half-sitting in the back seat. I rubbed a hand over my face to try and sober myself up as Vinnie continued his seduction up front.

“You’re looking radiant, if I may say so,” he said, grinning at her lazily as we pulled away from the curb.

“You’re pissed.”

“How dare you! I resent the implication!”

“Wow, listen to you. Did you swallow a dictionary along with half the brewery?” she said, glancing at me in the rear-vision mirror. “Heath, you’re supposed to be the sensible one here. What happened?”

“He’s older.” I waved a hand in Vinnie’s general direction while I fought with my seat belt. “Blame him.”

“He’s
too
bloody sensible, if you ask me,” Vinnie said.

Oh for God’s sake. “Is that a crime? You say that like it’s a crime.”

Jas came to my rescue, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she stopped at the intersection. “Get off his case. And he’s right – you
are
the eldest, although I think you missed out on the sensible gene somewhere along the line.”

“Ha!” Vinnie laughed, although I’ve no idea why.

It didn’t seem to matter. The alcohol was numbing everything nicely. I wondered if I was gonna be drunk enough to fall asleep right away tonight. I hoped so. It was always the same, right before Em’s birthday. That was half the reason for going a little overboard tonight. I told myself it was medicinal. I needed to sleep, and alcohol helped. There was justification in there somewhere, I was sure of it.

“While you’re in my lair – so to speak – have you got a costume sorted for tomorrow night?” Jas asked, glancing at me in the mirror again.

“Yep. Done.”

“What is it?”

“Ah!” I tried to wink at her, tapping my nose. “Surprise.”

“I’m not kidding, Heath. If you turn up without a costume, I’m kicking you out. You’ve been warned.”

“Oh ye of little faith!” I threw my hands up in mock disappointment. “Don’t you trust me?”

“In a word? No.”

“Jazzy, I promise you – I have a costume and it’s awesome,” I said, shrugging modestly. “But I’m keeping it under my hat. And that may or may not be a clue.”

She raised her eyebrows at me in the mirror but didn’t say anything.

“
My
costume is awesome,” Vinnie stated. “Isn’t it babe?”

“It’s… very you.”

“Which is to say, awesome.”

I chuckled. Despite Jas being four years younger than Vinnie, she was definitely the one who wore the pants in their relationship, and that was a good thing. She was like me – sensible, logical, level-headed, but with a side of stubborn that I was completely in awe of. It took a special kind of woman to put up with Vinnie’s shit, and she was that woman. She was going to be the sensible Mum, just like ours was. And Vinnie would be the fun Dad. They’d be the perfect little family, and I’d be the weird, quiet, eternally-single Uncle Heath.

Christ almighty.

Em was very much like Vinnie, and in our relationship, we were total opposites. But that had seemed to work fine, just like Vinnie and Jas did. But now she was gone and there was just me. I felt like I was floating sometimes, without her to tether me. It was like she took all the fun, the joy and the laughter with her. Me, on my own, was just sensible, like Jas said. But sensible was damn lonely.

It’d been tough for Jas, after Em disappeared. They’d been like two peas in a pod, from their first day at school. Then Em was gone and she was struggling, as though she was missing a limb. But she was lucky. Vinnie was there and he was patient, and he loved her through all of it. I think, in a way, working through it together was what made them even stronger.

The town was dead and traffic was non-existent. Before long, we were pulling up in my driveway. I looked down at the house, nestled halfway down the hill, behind the mature trees on the front lawn. No light shone in the windows, no-one moved around inside. It was just sitting there in the darkness, shrouded in loneliness. There was something incredibly depressing about coming home to an empty, dark house. It was like a beacon.
Look! I’m all alone!
I didn’t think I’d ever get used to it.

“So, we’ll pick you up tomorrow morning then?” Jas asked, yanking me out of the pit.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

“Five thirty, okay? I told Bridget we’d meet her there, she’s picking up Henry on the way through.”

“Yeah, that’s sweet. Thanks for the lift.”

“No worries. Got your keys?”

“He doesn’t need babysitting,” Vinnie chuckled as I got out of the car. “Ain’t that right, bro?”

“Ha-ha, yeah, whatever.” I ducked down to see Jas. “Yep, got my keys – see you guys in the morning.”

I made my way down the concrete driveway to the front door. I used the light from the car’s head-lights to jam my key into the lock and flicked on the hall light as the car reversed back out onto the road again. Closing the door behind me, the silence seemed to buzz in my ears, taunting me. After what happened today – meeting Maia, talking with Henry, seeing Alex at the pub – Emily seemed to be everywhere.

I was so drunk, I was wired. My brain was spinning, and I was caught in that dream-like hinterland, half-way between fantasy and reality.

I’d always been able to feel Em in the house. I think I convinced myself that, because all the evidence of her was here, it meant she still was, too. I could feel her all around me, in the furnishings she had chosen, in the photos of us on the wall, in the bathroom, where her toothbrush still sat in the holder by the sink. But lately, it felt like she was fading. Her presence, if you want to call it that, wasn’t as strong as it once was. I told myself it was because I was getting used to her not being here. I didn’t want to think about what that might mean, but I missed her – her presence, the feel of her in the house. It felt emptier now, colder.

She haunted my dreams. That made it sound romantic, like something out of a Bronte novel, but the truth was much less glamorous. I woke up in a cold sweat sometimes. I couldn’t breathe. I could see her face as clearly as if she were standing right in front of me. I tried to avoid the truth for a long time, because I was afraid. But I couldn’t avoid it anymore. I could feel it growing inside of me, gaining momentum.

An overwhelming sense of emptiness, eating away, hollowing me out.

Her memory was fading.

In hindsight, for what felt like a nano-second, everything was perfect. And then she was gone, and I was here. In my own private hell, the dark hallway stretching out in front of me indefinitely.

Standing at the kitchen sink, staring out over the harbour, I could see the two of us, sitting down on the jetty in the moonlight. I felt her warm breath in my ear as she whispered something to me, sending a shiver down my spine now, just as it used to then.

I watched the lights on the bridge twinkle in the darkness, reflected in the water below. It was a million-dollar view, even if the house itself was little more than a basic two-bedroom, white weatherboard cottage. The lawn swept down into the river, with a small jetty just big enough to launch a kayak off, jutting out into the water. The huge Pohutukawa tree in the middle of the lawn threw a giant shadow over the area, illuminated in the moonlight.

It had been our hideaway, our little slice of paradise. Our sanctuary from the world. Perfect. Ours.

But now she was gone, and it was just me. I never felt enough. I felt as if part of me was missing, as if I was waiting for something. Which, of course, I was.

And then there was Maia – showing up, today of all days, out of the blue. I’d never had a reaction like I did when I met her, not even with Em. It scared the shit out of me. I’d always assumed that Em was the love of my life, my soul-mate. We seemed to fit. We understood each other. We had a connection.

So what the hell did this all mean?

Jesus, my head hurt.

I came crashing down from dreamland, straight back through the clouds to reality, landing with a bump that jarred my bones.

I knew what I had to do. Self-discipline be damned. I needed this.

I turned away from the window and headed for the guest bedroom, flipping on the light. I stared at the wardrobe door like it was the gateway to Narnia. In a way, I guess it was.

I opened the door slowly, watching as the shadows inside were chased away by the light, revealing its precious contents. Em’s backpack, slouching in the bottom of the wardrobe, brand new, never used.

Just do it. Do it and get it over with.

I always felt guilty. As if I were letting everyone down by looking back. As if I were letting myself down.

I lifted the backpack, reaching for the cardboard box underneath it. She deserved more. She deserved more than a shitty cardboard box, but it was all I had.

I hunkered down on my hands and knees, one hand on the box, afraid to lift it, afraid to commit myself. Her shoes were lined up neatly along the bottom of the wardrobe, her clothes hanging casually above, as if she might come back one day and need them. It was the only concession I could live with. I couldn’t get rid of them, but moving them out of the main wardrobe and in here seemed like progress, somehow. And it got everyone off my back. As if moving her belongings out of our house would remove her from my heart, somehow, and make it all hurt less. The idea was ridiculous.

I picked up the box and sat back on the floor with my back against the bed. Slowly, I opened it. Emily’s face stared back at me – not the widely-circulated photo that I saw at the police station every Tuesday, but the real Emily, the one I fell in love with. Her eyes shone out at me, open and welcoming. Loving. She was beaming at me, the dimples in her cheeks deep and precious. I ached to run my fingers over them once again, to make her giggle and squirm as my fingertips glided across her skin. What I wouldn’t give to walk into our bedroom right now and see her lying in our bed, waiting for me.

I was a black hole, a star frozen at the point of collapse. I couldn’t go back, yet I couldn’t seem to move on, either.

Beneath the photos lay two unused airline tickets and her passport. Tickets to another life, another adventure, but ultimately not the one destiny had chosen for us. How very different things would have been if we’d been given the chance to use them. Where would we be now, if she was still here?