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“Want to talk about it?” he asks casually.

She licks her lips. “I don’t know what that was.” And it’s true. She’s worried about the present situation, but she probably shouldn’t have been that worried. “It’s just…I’m a bit stressed,” she admits. “At work. And then, I guess being here…” She trails off, unable to articulate it, but he nods as if he knows what she means.

His expression sets into a near grimace. “I’m sorry, Mel. It was selfish to suggest this.”

“I could have said no,” she mutters. And she could have, couldn’t she?

“I suppose. And you’ll still get to dump me on Boxing Day, right? Silver linings and all that.”

“Right.” She tries to muster up enthusiasm into her voice but can’t quite get there.

Finn nods toward the wooden pop-up stall. “Hot chocolate?”

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

She waits while Finn stands in the queue and then returns with a Christmas spiced hot chocolate for each of them. She cups her hands around the takeaway cup, trying to stop her teeth from chattering. She feels calmer now but ragged, like she’s had something cut out of her—the way you often do after a good crying jag.

She watches Finn as he sips his drink, his eyes traveling around the crowds. She notices a few people—women, mostly—sneaking glances his way from nearby tables, or looking over as they pass by. He’s always just had that presence, hasn’t he? The way some people carry it, without even knowing they’re doing it. She used to tease him about it, the fact that he could be so oblivious—yet had obviously used it in the past, knowing the effect he could have on people if he turned it on.

I’m only oblivious when I’m around you, Mel, he’d said once, eyes sparking in a way she’d loved. Back when they belonged to each other.

“Do you regret it?” she asks, and his attention moves to her. “Asking me to come here with you?”

He hesitates for long enough to make her heart jump with nerves. Though she’s not quite sure what answer she’s looking for here. “It’s been more difficult than I thought.”

“Hmmm.” She takes a sip of her drink. That’s gratifying, at least.

“I think I’d convinced myself it wouldn’t be that hard. Convinced myself that I was…”

“Over me?”

He winces. “Well, not quite that. But that I’d be able to keep it together, at least.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t get it. You ended it, Finn.” Yet here he was, acting like it was hard to be around her.

“Because I knew we were unhappy. Not because I stopped loving you.” It’s so matter-of-fact that all she can do is stare at him as the words slam into her chest.

Not because I stopped loving you.

The words echo around her body, reaching every part of her. She wants to believe them. Wants to believe that she’d meant as much to him as he had to her. But he’d still done it, hadn’t he? Still thought it necessary to end things—in a public way, in front of his family.

Because I knew we were unhappy.

It brings her down, tethering her to an uncomfortable truth. Unhappy. He might have loved her, but he was unhappy doing so.

“You were unhappy,” she whispers. “I wasn’t.”

“Are you sure about that?” She hates it when he looks at her like that, his gray-green eyes entirely focused on her. It makes it difficult to think, to remember the point she is trying to prove.

“Yes,” she says firmly. He nods, though the action is sad—like he wants her to validate his actions by saying she was miserable too. She wants to ask him at what point he became unhappy—at what point he decided that she was not enough.

She wants to ask if he still loves her now.

“I really wanted it to work, Mel,” he says quietly. “But London and my job—it was, I don’t know, it felt like I couldn’t function properly. Like I was playing a role and it wasn’t working. When you bought the flat, I just panicked—you were making a home for us, and I knew I couldn’t keep going as things were. And I felt sure I wasn’t living up to your expectations of me.”

“You should have talked to me about it,” she says, and she can hear the hint of bitterness creeping in. “Maybe we could have moved somewhere else.” Would he have done that? Was it really just about London itself—or is he just trying to soften the blow?

“I could never have asked you to move for me—your job, it’s what you love. You’ve worked so hard for it, and now you’re about to have even more success.”