Page 137 of The Wedding Forecast

‘You just got here,’ I say. ‘I thought you were going to stay.’

‘I know, but it’s been a long night.’

‘Stay.’

‘I have to work tomorrow. That wedding in Kew.’

‘I’ll walk you to the door,’ I say.

At the door, he kisses me quickly on the lips and turns to go.

‘Wait,’ I say. Even as I’m telling him to wait, I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to say. He turns back, slowly. He knows before I do.

‘Patrick,’ I say.

‘Don’t,’ he says, closing his eyes.

‘What?’

‘Don’t say what you’re about to say.’

‘I—’

‘Don’t break up with me because of him.’

‘It’s not because of him.’ I am whispering, and my voice breaks a little. We both know I am lying.

‘Yes, it is.’

‘I’m so sorry, Patrick.’

‘This is a mistake. If you do this, you’re making a mistake.’

‘I probably am,’ I say. He’s right and yet I can’t stop myself.

‘So don’t do it.’

‘I have to.’

‘Doesn’t he live overseas? Why are you throwing what we have away for, what, one night?’

‘Patrick.’ I take a deep breath. ‘I’m really, really sorry. I wish I didn’t feel like this, I wish it more than anything.’

‘So that’s it?’

‘That’s it.’

‘Anna. You’re just confused.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You are.’

‘You can’t argue me into staying in a relationship with you.’

‘Fine. Fine. You’re right.’ He turns away from me, then turns back. ‘I’m not going to be here for you, when he leaves. I’m not waiting. You can’t break up with me and then text me again in a week.’

‘I know,’ I say. ‘I won’t.’