Short Soup by Coleen Kwan

stretching out on the beach would be more relaxing. The sand squeaked beneath her soles as she walked back to her scattered clothes. A few scrubby bushes provided some dappled shade where she sat down. While she was squeezing the water out of her hair, Dion joined her, his body shiny and slick after his swim, his skin the colour of honey.
    She schooled herself not to stare at him. “It’s so peaceful here,” she said. “No traffic, no crowds, no noise, no stress. I feel as though I’m a thousand miles away from Sydney. I don’t know why I ever left.”
    He slung himself down on the sand a good distance away from her. “Of course you do. You left because you wanted something different, something you couldn’t get here.”
    She searched his tone for a hint of criticism but found none. He was just stating the facts. “I suppose.” Scooping up a handful of sand, she let the hot grains trickle through her fingers. “My mum thinks I should move back here, find a job in an accounting practice nearby.”
    He twisted towards her. “You’re not seriously considering that, are you?”
    “Um, why do you sound so incredulous? After the last few years maybe I do want a bit of peace and quiet. What’s wrong with that?”
    “Because you’re not a quitter. Yes, you’ve had a rough time, but you’ve also achieved a lot. You’ve worked hard, made sacrifices. Don’t waste it all because of Nick.”
    The fierce glint in his eyes made her draw back. Part of her had been secretly hoping that this kayak trip would result in a few more kisses with Dion, even though another part had warned her not to get carried away, but now he seemed to be actively pushing her away. He’d kept his distance from her while swimming – a perfect opportunity for some horseplay, she would have thought – and now he was telling her she didn’t belong here, that her place was back in Sydney a safe distance away from him. An unexpected lump formed in her throat. Not trusting her voice, she stared silently out to sea.
    Sand squeaked as Dion shifted his legs. “Tell me something,” he said, his voice gentler. “When you found out about Nick having an affair, why didn’t you come straight back? Why did you stick it out in London for another six months?”
    Drawing her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs. “Three reasons. One, it was quicker to get a divorce over there; two, I had a complex project to wrapup; and three, I didn’t want people to think Nick had driven me away. I wanted to leave on my own terms.”
    “Good. You didn’t let him ruin your career. You enjoy your work, don’t you?”
    She nodded. All bad jokes aside, she did derive great satisfaction from her job and couldn’t think of anything else she’d rather be doing.
    “Well, then, you deserve a serious job with good prospects,” Dion continued. “And the best place for that would be Sydney.”
    “You seem suddenly keen to get rid of me,” she couldn’t help blurting out.
    “What?” He stared at her, his throat working as he swallowed. “I don’t want to get rid of you.” He hesitated then added, “I want you to be happy.”
    She gazed down at an ant struggling across the sand. To the tiny insect the beach must seem an impossible moonscape but still it soldiered on, following some invisible path back to its nest.
    “You don’t know what you’re asking.” She watched the ant negotiate a piece of driftwood that would seem like a small mountain to it. “I can pass exams with flying colours, I can analyse billion dollar portfolios, I can remember a large amount of facts and figures; but when it comes to happiness I’m as clueless as the next person. My parents always drummed the same old mantra into me – study hard, get a degree, go after a good job. That was the path to success in life. Achieve that and everything else will fall into place. But now I know that’s not how it works, at least not for me.”
    She paused to take in a breath