Page 55
He shrugs. “All I could come up with at short notice.”
“Well, thanks.”
He seems to consider her for a moment. “You know, I bought presents for everyone. They definitely wouldn’t expect anything—from either of us—but I’ve already added your name to them. They’re from both of us.” She stares at him. Well, this proves Priya wrong, then.
She can’t think of anything to say other than, “Oh.”
“And I think a tie would be great for Mark, for Secret Santa. But we can have a look for something else if you want?”
She nods slowly. “Okay. Thanks. I’d still like to buy your mum something, though. To say thank you.” And sorry, she adds silently.
“Okay. Well, we’ll have a look. There’s a high street not far away if there’s nothing here.”
She bites her lip. “I have to be back home by five. For the Lillian Hart meeting.”
“Of course. We’ll get you home by then.”
He hesitates, then holds his hand out to her, like a question. And even though there is no one around to see, to pretend for, she takes it.
Chapter Nineteen
They’re the first ones to make it home and it’s strange, coming back to an empty cottage. It feels too quiet as they step inside, their footsteps echoing on the wooden floorboards. Finn switches on the hallway light as Mel shivers involuntarily, bringing the cold from outside with her. She can’t figure out where to look, too aware of the fact that it is only the two of them here right now. It shouldn’t matter. Why does it matter?
Not because I stopped loving you.
When she glances up, Finn is looking down at her and for a moment they do nothing, both seemingly immobile in the corridor. The air between them tightens.
Then Finn clears his throat. “I’ll, er, light the fire.”
Mel watches Finn head into the living room, then heads upstairs to get her laptop from her room.
Just because he loved you then, doesn’t mean he loves you now, Melanie.
She glances out of the bedroom window but can barely see anything in the dark that’s settled in, making it feel far later than it actually is.
Back downstairs, when she peers in around the living room door, she finds Finn crouched by the woodburning stove, one hand on a metal poker, prodding at the wood inside as it starts to spark. He’s switched the Christmas tree lights on, which dance in the corner of the room. She watches him for a moment, the sharp curve of his jawline lit up by an orange glow.
Not because I stopped loving you.
He seems to sense her presence, glances over her. “How long until your meeting?”
A knot of nerves tightens in her stomach. “Half an hour.”
“Right.” He shuts the door to the stove and stands, rocking back on his heels—like he’s at a loss as to what to do now it’s just the two of them. Sleeping arrangements are one thing—this, apparently, is another. “Tea?”
“Sure.”
She settles herself on the sofa while Finn heads to the kitchen, opening up her laptop and staring at it. She flicks through notes she knows by heart, scans over the designs she’s sent to Lillian for the millionth time. She hates this bit—the minutes right before the meeting when it’s too late to do anything, when all the prep is done and you just have to wait.
She looks up at the sound of Finn’s footsteps. He hands her a mug of steaming tea and the tips of her fingers graze his as she takes it.
“So, are you feeling ready?” Finn asks.
Mel bites her lip, then shuts her laptop screen determinedly. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He hesitates, then sits down next to her—far enough away so that they aren’t touching, but close enough for her to feel the heat of his body, encasing her. There is quiet between them. It’s like something has shifted, after the conversation at the market—one that feels unfinished, somehow.
“Finn?” He looks at her. “You’re not like him, you know. Your dad.” It’s the one thing she feels she needs to say—and the thing that feels safest to focus on. And it’s true—she met his dad. It took a while, but she met him. She knows they aren’t the same.
