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‘Cool. I’ll leave you two to it then. Mimi and Frank are due in half an hour, Hols, so don’t be too long.’ Xavier said with a smile, then kissed me on the cheek for extra show and disappeared. It felt nice to know he had my back.
‘Thank you for coming all this way to give me my scarf,’ I said wrapping it around my arm, ‘I’d invite you in but we’ve got important clients coming for lunch.’
‘I wasn’t sure if you left the scarf on purpose?’ George asked.
I frowned. ‘Why would I have done that?’
‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged, ‘to give us chance to talk together, alone?’
George looked at me with a half-smile, clearly hoping I had dropped my modern-day handkerchief for him to leap down and retrieve. That I’d left a red, woolly breadcrumb trail that would lead him to my chalet door. I could hear Liv and Xavier clattering around in the background, getting ready for Mimi and Frank, and didn’t really have time for a heart-to-heart.
‘I’m not sure there’s much more to say, is there?’ I asked softly.
‘Well, we promised to give each other some time,’ George said, ‘and I can see now that I was wrong. That you have got the spirit of adventure I always thought you had. That you can party like the best of them, just like we did at uni…’
Oh God. Where was he going with this?
‘I’m really not a big party person at all George, honestly…’
‘You are, though. I’ve seen your Instagram posts since you’ve been out here: all the après ski bars, the Champagne lifestyle. The sort of life I’d imagined. The world I wanted for us – that I still want for us.’
‘What do you mean…?’ I was too stunned to say anything else.
George shuffled about in the snow and pulled something out of his pocket. A black, velvet box. My beautiful wedding ring – the one I’d chosen after hours and hours of research. A simple gold band decorated with a shower of tiny diamonds.
‘I’m saying I’m an idiot and I’m sorry and I think maybe it was cold feet after all. I was flailing about, looking for something I already had.’
I couldn’t believe it. George stood shivering on the chalet doorstep, offering me my old life back. Holding out the ring I’d worn a hundred different times as I’d imagined my life as Mrs Ballinger. I had no words.
‘I’ve missed you, Holly. I’ve missed us. Your funny little ways, our breakfasts in bed – even Basil’s fur attacks when I walk through the door. Is there any chance you can forgive me? I know it’ll take time for you to trust me again – but can we try?’
‘What about Pippa?’ I blurted out, taking the box from him, my wedding ring twinkling in the sun.
‘Pippa is a nice distraction,’ he said, ‘but she hasn’t got any substance, you know? She gets given everything by her parents. She’s not like me and you, Holly; she’s never had to work for it.’
I thought of Pippa, waiting at the hotel, while George performed this Romeo scene, oblivious to his betrayal. How could I have ever seen a future with him?
‘I’m sorry, George,’ I said, taking one last look at my wedding ring before snapping the box shut and handing it back. ‘I took some time too and realised you were right to call it off. We want different things. We both want life’s big adventure, but my version is very different to yours.’
‘But it’s not too late, Holly. We still have the house. We don’t need to get married; let’s just get you home, settle Basil in. There’s still time to see how our life was meant to turn out.’
He was starting to sound desperate.
‘Maybe it’s not too late for you, George, but it is too late for me. I’ve seen a new life for myself. A new future. And it isn’t living in Surrey with you, defending my career choices, apologising for my love of cooking. It’s over, George. You know it and so do I.’
George nodded to himself. ‘I thought so, but I wanted to give it one more shot. Time to sell the house then?’
‘Yep. Time to sell the house and move on with our lives,’ I said.
‘Worth a try though, eh?’ He smiled, opening his arms out for a hug. I leant in and gave him a big squeeze.
‘Worth a try,’ I nodded into his shoulder.
Twenty-Six
5th February
‘Happy Birthday, Holly!’ I woke up to a bed full of colourful balloons and Liv and Xavier blowing paper horns in my face. Xavier held out a stack of blueberry pancakes and Liv had a cup of tea in a ‘Happy Birthday’ mug. A small candle flickered wildly in the centre of the pancakes, to remind me that I’d hit the big two-eight.
