Page 9 of The Christmas Letter

‘I’m sorry!’ Daniel called behind her, following now. ‘I don’t know what to say – it feels like there wasn’t a right thing to do, a right time to say it.’

Holly got a glass down from the kitchen cupboard, swearing to herself when one of the hinges dislodged, and filled it with water, playing for time while she tried to sort out her thoughts. Then she faced him, over the countertop that separated kitchen from living room. ‘I just don’t get it, Daniel. What’s changed?’

Daniel took a step towards her. ‘Look, when we got together, you were . . . Well, you were going through some stuff.’

Holly winced. By the time she’d met Daniel, the crash had been a year in the past, but she still hadn’t got over it. And when Daniel had asked her out, Abi had encouraged her. You need to start looking forward, babe. You can’t live in the past – it will kill you.

‘And I got that, I did, but I thought maybe . . .’

‘You thought what?’ Holly asked, her tone biting.

He shook his head, and the action looked weary. Seriously? Now he had the audacity to look weary? ‘I don’t know.’

‘You thought I’d get more fun as time went on. Is that it?’

‘No! You’re plenty of fun.’ But the assurance sounded placatory, like he didn’t really mean it. Was she no fun? Was that the problem? ‘It’s just . . . You don’t seem really . . . in it. It was like you were doing things because you thought you should, not because you actually wanted to. I thought maybe after some time you’d talk to me more.’

She scowled. ‘I talk to you all the bloody time.’

He sighed. Like she was the one being unreasonable here. ‘I want someone to build a life with, Holly.’

‘So do I!’ The words were automatic – the right thing to say. But they were also true. Weren’t they?

‘Do you?’

‘Yes.’ She stuck her chin in the air, and the action reminded her briefly of arguments with Lily. Do you really want to wear that, Holly? Yes. Do you really want to drive the whole way? Yes.

‘Maybe you do,’ Daniel conceded. ‘But not with me. You haven’t even introduced me to your parents, for Christ’s sake.’

Holly flinched but refused to let him make her feel bad. ‘You’re telling me what I want now, are you? Telling me how I feel? How fucking dare you! And my parents, my family . . . That’s—’

‘Holly, calm down, I’m not—’

But Holly shook her head, talking over him. ‘Do you know what? I don’t want to deal with this right now. Get out.’

He didn’t move. ‘See, this is my point – you never want to actually have a conversation, open up about how you’re feeling.’

‘Oh, you want me to open up, do you? Tell you how heartbroken I am so you can pat me on the back and console me, the whole time having a little ego boost, is that right?’

‘That’s not what I meant.’ He pulled a hand through his hair again. ‘Shit, I’m not doing this right.’

‘No, you’re bloody well not.’

‘I’ll go.’

‘Yes, please do.’

‘I’ll call you later, once you’ve . . .’

‘Once I’ve what?’

‘We need to talk this through properly,’ he said calmly.

Holly sighed. ‘Just leave, Daniel.’ Her anger was fading now, something more tiring coming to take its place. She’d rather be alone when that feeling settled in properly.

He hesitated, but then turned to leave. He paused in the open doorway, looked back at her. ‘I’m sorry, Holly. I’m not doing this to hurt you.’

Holly gave a humourless laugh. ‘Well, it feels a lot like that to me.’