Page 25 of Counting Down To You

He shakes his head. “I’m trying to work it out. How you ended up here.”

“Sabbatical, remember?”

“But why here?” The question seems to have something more behind it. “Like the Alps I get, obviously, if you like to ski.” I decide not to comment on that assumption. I don’t really want to admit to someone who clearly lives for his time on the slopes that I have never tried to ski in my life.

“But why here, specifically?” There’s something weirdly intense about the way he pushes the issue. Like my answer matters to him, more than it should.

I do my best impression of a casual shrug. “Seemed like a nice place. And I’ve not been here before, so I thought, you know, why not.”

“Hmmm.” He taps his fingers on the table. “And we were the only ones with an opening?”

“Ummm, something like that.”

“And the photo?”

He’s questioning me a lot. Maybe he still thinks I’m a stalker?

I sigh. “You’ll think it’s ridiculous.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “I kind of think it’s ridiculous anyway.”

“Right. Well…My ex, he was a bit of a dick to me. And I just…” I blow out a breath, start again. “A friend said that I should post a photo with someone else on socials. You know, make it look like I was moving on.”

I’m not explaining the calendar—that’s personal. And I don’t want anyone to know about Robyn, because it is easier. The way I’m powering through the challenges proves that. It’s easier to be somewhere where there is no one watching how I process it, where there is no one asking if I’m okay.

“Ah,” Leo says, taking another sip of whiskey.

“Ah?”

“The whole make-your-ex-jealous thing. Not been there, but I’ve heard it’s a thing.” He smiles, a different kind of smile this time. Sympathetic, maybe? “So he was a dick?”

“Yeah. He really was. I was going through a tough time and he, well, let’s just say he wasn’t there for me. Then he used the fact that we weren’t spending much time together as a reason to dump me. And start dating someone else.”

This isn’t going to work if we’re not spending any time together, Lee Lee.

Lee Lee. Robyn had always hated that nickname.

I’m spending time with my very ill best friend, Adam, not going partying every night.

And then: It’s just not fun anymore.

That was the real kicker. Because what he really meant was you’re not fun anymore. And he’d gone and found someone who was fun, apparently.

I wonder, sometimes, if he was right. If I should have made more time for him. Maybe then we’d still be together now. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to go through the last ten months alone.

Leo is watching me, and I realize I haven’t spoken in too long. I sip my drink before remembering what it is. Do my best not to cough with the bitter taste of it. “Sorry,” I say. “I don’t really like thinking about it. It was a while ago, but…”

“I get it. Or I think I do. Maybe I should be flattered, if you did it to make him jealous.”

“Sure,” I say, repeating his earlier comment, “flattered works.”

His lips twitch. He studies me for a moment longer, then nods thoughtfully. “Can I borrow your phone for a sec?” He holds his hand out expectantly. Because I can’t think of a reason not to give it to him—and because he can’t do anything without my passcode—I give it to him.

Without a word, he moves his chair so that we’re sitting side by side rather than opposite each other. Though we’re not touching, under the table I can feel the heat of his thigh next to mine.

“What are you—?”

“Smile,” he says, and holds out the phone. Clicks the camera button.