How would she ever adapt to the bullying world of cities?
How would she cope with schools and being different?
Would she forever be a free spirit or would she eventually grow up, don a suit, and become some big-wig corporate CEO?
Try as I might, I couldn’t visualize my daughter in an office with a demanding laptop. I saw her as a marine biologist, hair as white as Estelle’s as she tagged dolphins and tracked whales.
She was a daughter of the wild not a child of skyscrapers.
But that didn’t matter because this was our home now.
.............................
MAY
We tried to fit in. We really did.
We went out with Madi and some of her friends.
We did our best to introduce Coco to new things, even though she wailed with frustration.
We still hadn’t found a house, but strangely, we didn’t care.
Coco preferred to spend every waking minute on the beach and sometimes insisted we camp out beneath the moon.
It wasn’t as warm as Fiji, so we carried the blankets from our beds and slept on yoga mats on the sand. Beneath the splattering stars, listening to my daughter’s relaxed sigh, I couldn’t deny I was more at home here than I could ever be beneath a white ceiling and ugly chandelier.
The only thing that ruined our happiness were the dawn surfers sneering at us as if we were homeless and early beach-goers carting umbrellas and boom boxes.
It ruined the fantasy.
The fantasy that we weren’t truly here but there.
Days passed and we did the same thing.
We explored a little more of the city.
We forced ourselves to acclimatise, to go on trains, to attend open houses even though in my heart, I knew we’d never be able to sign such a commitment.
We were lost.
Only this time, our hearts were lost not our bodies.
Despite our problems, Estelle and I grew closer.
So close in fact, I left one night while she was bathing Coco, and headed to the jewellery shop in the local mall a ten-minute walk from our block.
I withdrew some money from the account my father had reopened with the meagre funds I’d earned from working in prison.
I spent all of it.
I bought her a ring.
And I went back to the apartment and got down on one knee and proposed.
Again.
Chapter Eighty
...............................................
E S T E L L E
......
Being surprised doesn’t mean awe or wow or even shock.
Being surprised doesn’t mean you’ll love it or hate it.
Being surprised means the one person you love knows you better than you know yourself.
And that is the ultimate sign of perfection.
Taken from the New Notepad of E.E.
...
GALLOWAY HAD SURPRISED me.
More than surprised me.
Dumbfounded me.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
“Believe it. This way...it’s official. Forever.” Galloway smiled, looking so handsome in a black shirt and jeans. His tan hadn’t faded, ingrained into his skin after three and a half years of hot sunshine, and the black material popped with his bright blue eyes. His glasses glittered sexily and his lips curled in the perfect way, making me want to kiss him.
And kiss him and kiss him.
I wore a similar outfit of jeans with a black off-the-shoulder blouse. I’d fishtail-plaited my hair so it fell over my shoulder (no longer brittle from sun damage or unwashed) and secretly loved the white strands against the dark fabric.
It wasn’t exactly a wedding dress...but I didn’t want one. Or need one. As far as I was concerned, we were already married.
This was just a formality.
However, I adored my wedding ring.
I couldn’t stop twirling it.
There was no expensive diamond, no gaudy gemstones. Just a simple gold band with the words: You crashed with me. I fell for you. I love you.
It was beyond perfect and would never ever leave my finger.
Not even to hand it to the celebrant so she could instruct Galloway to place it on my hand with our vows.
No way. It was there to stay.
Madeleine stood behind me with Coco in her arms as Galloway turned and took my hands.
We stood in a small room resembling a beige box with an Australian flag hanging limply in the corner.
The celebrant moved to stand in front of G and me. “Are you ready?”
We nodded.
Looking at Galloway, she said, “As this is just a simple formality, I’ll ask the simplest but most important of questions.” She grinned. “Do you take Estelle Marie Evermore to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Galloway licked his lower lip. “I do.”
Her gaze switched to me. “And do you take Galloway Jacob Oak as your lawfully wedded husband?”
My nerves drained away. “I do.”
The celebrant clapped. “In that case, I now pronounce you husband and wife. For the second time.”
We kissed.
We celebrated.
We ignored the pain of missing Pippa and Conner.
They’d been there the first time we’d got married.
Now, they were gone.
We didn’t have the children, but we did have that coveted piece of paper.
And the very next day, my last name changed from Evermore to Oak.
It was legal.
Chapter Eighty-One