Page 58 of Counting Down To You

“I didn’t give it up,” he snaps. He heaves in a breath that sounds a little painful. “I just…I had to take a break.” He sips his coffee. “My partner died.” The words are blunt, almost callous in the way they are delivered without feeling. But I feel it like a gut punch—and he can’t look at me as he speaks. “We ran it together.”

“I’m so sorry.” I hate that, even after countless people have said the same words to me, I’ve not been able to come up with anything better. He’s had a tough year. That’s what Leo said yesterday, wasn’t it? This is what he meant. And I pushed, without stopping to think of why his year might have been tough and why he might not want to talk about it. I’m a total idiot. Because I know what it’s like to lose yourself completely after someone you love dies. Of course he let the business go. Of course he couldn’t face carrying on. I want to reach out, lay a hand on his arm to offer comfort. Like he senses that, he draws away before I can.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says gruffly—and I get that too. “All you need to know is that I didn’t want to keep doing it without him.” He’s still not looking at me, and the vulnerability in that makes my heart twist, despite how he’s treated me. “But now I do. I need to. If you don’t believe anything else, then believe that, because if I can’t make it work, I can’t stay here.” He meets my gaze. “And I want to stay here.” Before I can reply to that, he’s rubbing his hands over his face. “Forget it. You don’t understand. You’ve only just got here, why would you?”

He stands up abruptly, as if he’ll leave right now, give up on trying to convince me, just like that. I get to my feet too. “Wait.” He pauses in the action of picking up his hat. “I’ll help you.”

He frowns. “Help me?”

“Yes. If you want to start the business up again, then I’ll help you. Take me on a hike—that’s a great idea, plus I’d love to. It might help to show Leo that you’re serious too. Then let’s go from there, take it one step at a time.” I’m already wondering if I can convince Betty and Louisa to give a hike a go before they leave. “I’ll be able to convince a few people,” I say out loud. “I’m actually good at that, when I need to be.”

He looks at me for a long moment. “Why? Why would you help me?” I sense the rest of the words, though there’s no way to tell if I’m right. Why would you help me, when you don’t know me? Why would you help me, after how rude I’ve been?

Because you need it. But I don’t say that out loud, suspecting it won’t go down well. Instead, I say something equally true. “Because I want to.”

He opens his mouth, closes it again. Then he gives me a sharp, jerky nod. “Thank you.”

Later, once I get back to my cabin, I open the next square on my calendar. Number 12, which means I’m halfway through. Something tightens around my heart. I imagine children across the world, counting down twelve more days until Christmas. But, for me, this means I only have twelve more days left of Robyn. Twelve more days of being guided through the month, of having a reason to keep putting one foot in front of another.

I try to push that thought aside, to stay focused on the challenge.

Offer help to someone who needs it.

My lips curve into a smile. I’m pretty sure I’ve already accomplished that one today. Which only goes to show just how well Robyn knew me.

Chapter

17

I relax against the side of the hot tub, jets of water massaging my back while bubbles steam around me and Lucie. We’re in the spa garden, comprising two hot tubs a fair distance apart, an outdoor sauna, and a small outdoor pool, which is presumably only used in the summer months. The paths leading to each amenity have been salted, but snow has been left to cover most of the garden, meaning we’re sitting out here in our swimming costumes, surrounded by snow. I wonder if this is what it’s like to sit in the hot springs in Iceland.

It was Lucie’s idea to use the spa on our day off, meaning I had to buy a swimming costume in the spa shop, given that swimming stuff was not on my packing list for a month’s stay in the Alps. And I could not have imagined this—sitting in a hot tub in the freezing cold, surrounded by snow, chatting to…a friend? I think a friend. It feels mad that I’ve not even been in France two weeks and yet somehow it already feels like I’m building a semblance of a life out here. I suppose this is what Lucie meant when she spoke about the families you find when you work abroad.

“So,” Lucie says, stretching her arms out the back of the hot tub, seemingly unbothered by the cold. “Gabriel is on board.”

“Oh my God!” I can’t help the fact that my voice comes out as an excited squeak. Rather than looking derisive as she might have done ten days ago, Lucie smiles. “That’s amazing,” I say. “You’re amazing.”

“Don’t worry. I’m well aware of that.”

“How did you convince him?” Gabriel is the chef that Lucie has been speaking to about catering for Betty and Louisa’s private dinner at Refuge. He isn’t world famous, but he’s known for being one of the best chefs in the area. He doesn’t really work “on the ground” in kitchens anymore, making his money from the restaurants he owns instead, and he never agrees to work in any of the chalets during ski season—which meant he was just about the only chef available at short notice.

Lucie shrugs. “I just managed to get him on the phone.” Her tone is way too casual.

“You know him, don’t you?”

A hint of color creeps into Lucie’s cheeks—not totally explained by the warmth of the bright sun. “We may have briefly dated last year.”

I laugh, delighted. Then I sigh. “I’m going to be third wheeling, aren’t I?”

“Nooooo,” she says, far too innocently. Then she grins. “It’ll be payback. I’m basically third wheeling all the time around you.”

I snort. “That is so grossly inaccurate I don’t think it’s even worth arguing with.”

“True, to be fair. You guys only occasionally make me feel like I’m intruding on a private couple moment.”

I refrain from pointing out the obvious correction to that. I may be attracted to Leo, but after the incident on the slopes the other day I’m pretty sure it’s one-sided. Which reminds me, we’re supposed to be fake breaking up any day now, right? And, timing wise, that might actually work. I think I’ve won Lucie round enough that she’d be firmly on my side, and given Leo’s “reputation” I don’t think I’d be faced with a barrage of questions about it. Although it’s not going to help Lucie’s opinion of Leo. I feel a little bad about that—I might not have known the Leo of a couple of years ago, but I think the Leo I know now deserves better. I feel bad for lying to Lucie too, though I don’t think our new friendship could survive the truth. Which gets me wondering how it’s supposed to play out—are we just going to tell everyone we’ve broken up? Stage something public? Will he still speak to me afterward? Obviously, he’ll speak to me, but will he make the time to take me places, like he’s been doing? Something uncomfortable knots in my stomach at the thought that he might not.

“You okay?” Lucie asks, reminding me that I don’t have a good poker face.