Though she’d known Ian for years, it was only out in the bush, free from any social pressure, that Tara Wells could really see him for the first time
The night I met my husband I came home disappointed. Seated on the edge of the bed, I removed my earrings, puzzled. I had been so sure I would meet someone that night; there was a buzz in my body, a little hum of excitement. Tonight is special, it whispered.
I’d spent the evening at a long restaurant table, celebrating my friend’s birthday. Sitting diagonally opposite was a guy a few years older. He was, I assumed, the unremarkable husband of the woman seated beside him. I was wrong, but still, the noisy restaurant meant I gave up on finding out more. Afterwards, my friend urged me to continue on at the pub with them. “No thanks, I’ll pass,” I said.