However, after Mr. Thompson’s (or Old Man Thompson as Roane called him) crack about some guy called West Elliot, Milly shot him a frosty look and tension descended over the occupants of the pub.

Waiting until we were alone at our table by the fire, I asked Roane about it. It turned out West Elliot owned The Alnster Inn and, like Milly, had inherited it from his parents. Back when they were teenagers, Milly and West were in love, but while West stayed in Alnster to run the family business, Milly took off for Newcastle to attend university. It was there she met Dexter.

“You’ve met Milly.” Roane leaned in to whisper in my ear, goose bumps shivering down my neck at the ghost of his words on my skin. “She’s a good woman. She never meant for anyone to get hurt, but when you know, you know, and Dex was it for her.”

I winced. “It’s a shitty situation.”

Roane nodded. “And West has never made it easy. Even though he married a girl from Alnwick and they had kids together who are now grown, he’s never let it go. His love for Milly turned into bitterness, even though he knows things haven’t been easy for her.”

I frowned. “In what way?”

“Well, you know they have a daughter, Viola?”

I nodded. Milly had proudly shown me photos of Viola, a beautiful young woman currently finishing her sophomore year at Newcastle University. She was excited because Viola would be home soon for the summer.

“They tried many times before they had Vi.” Roane’s dark eyes filled with sympathy. “After a number of miscarriages, Milly couldn’t take it anymore. They stopped trying.”

My heart ached for her, for them both. “Poor Milly. Poor Dexter.”

“Aye.” Roane sighed, his gaze darting to The Anchor’s owner. “But once they stopped trying, it miraculously happened. Viola was born.”

I was glad it had worked out for them. From what I’d witnessed, Milly and Dexter were an example of a marriage to aspire to. Married thirty years and, yes, they still loved each other, but more impressively they still liked each other. After a moment’s contemplation, I whispered, “I do feel kind of bad for West. He must have loved Milly a lot.”

Roane nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Aye, I wouldn’t wish having to live in the same village with the object of your affection, watching her live her life with some other man, on my enemy. But he made a choice to move on, marry Kathy, have kids. That should have been it. Instead he turned it into a war with everyone taking sides. Some locals patronize here, others The Alnster Inn—some are people who didn’t even live here thirty years ago but have somehow gotten caught up in their story. And worse, they have two boys. Lucas, the youngest, is Viola’s age. The war continued with them. The two of them are forever at each other’s throats when they’re home. Kathy has to see that. Can you imagine marrying a man and standing by his side while his bitterness over losing the love of another woman pervades an entire village and affects your kids?”

Sometimes I loved the way Roane talked. Realizing I was staring at his mouth, I shook my head and returned my attention to our conversation. “Poor Kathy.”

My friend contemplated me a moment, those entrancing lips of his twisting into a smirk. “Aye, poor Kathy. Poor Milly. Poor Dexter. Maybe poor West. You could write a book about this place.”

I chuckled. “One day I might.”

Over a week after our conversation about Milly and West, Roane had commandeered my day off. I hadn’t had time to rent a car just yet. Penny drove me along the coast on one of my days off, and I’d visited a few of the coastal towns. As for food, I’d had groceries delivered to the apartment. When Roane found out, he’d insisted on taking the following Sunday off work to drive me into Alnwick so I could buy some groceries and check out the car rental place. Upon our return Roane would cook dinner for me.

The man was perfect.

I had to find a flaw. It was imperative that I find a flaw.

He picked me up in his old Land Rover Defender, and I bubbled with excitement at the prospect of finally venturing into Alnwick. Roane laughed as I settled into the SUV. “You’re like a five-year-old going to her birthday party.”

“I feel like a five-year-old going to my birthday party.”

“Aye, well, I’m not far off that feeling myself.” He shot me an affectionate look. “It’s my first day off in I don’t know how long.”

This surprised and dismayed me. “Seriously?”

He nodded, pulling the Defender away from the curb. We waved at a few locals as we drove out of the village.

“So, do you not have time for a day off?”