She ran down the pier.
Salty wind tore at her face, hissing in her ears. Her heartbeat slapped in time with her footsteps. Behind her, a cacophony of voices shouted her name. Alicia, love, turn around. Alicia, look here, darling. Alicia.
She ran harder.
Cameras exploded behind her in brilliant popcorn flashes. She thought of the fireworks that she had seen above this sea not long ago, a riot of vermillion, sapphire and buttercup yellow. That had been the beginning of the end, those fireworks.
Would she still have chosen him if she'd known this would happen?
The end of the pier loomed in front of her. She came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the crumbling stone, staring at the black, frothy water below.
She was trapped.
There was nowhere left to run.
YOU ARE READING
Six Ways From Sunday
RomanceAlicia Martinez is determined to keep a low profile. After a tough year, she deletes all of her social media and retreats to the small coastal town of St Andrews in the hopes of starting over - and avoiding her tumultuous past. Oliver Hogarth is a...