When he opened the front door she was ready and waiting. She even managed a smile. “You’re so late. I was worried. Did your meetings overrun? You must be exhausted.”
She hovered, heart aching, mind racing.
“Yes. Sorry.” He hung up his coat. Kissed her briefly. “Freezing out there.”
“Yes. They’re saying it might even snow. Can you believe that?”
The weather was always a safe, neutral topic. A lifeboat to cling to in stormy seas.
She walked through to the kitchen. Seb followed, forgot to duck, and smacked his head on the low doorway.
“Damn it—this house hates me. Why didn’t the guy who built it make the doors higher?” He rubbed his forehead and glared at the doorway.
“He probably wasn’t as tall as you.”
For once it felt as if she and the cottage were on the same side. She felt hurt, betrayed, and more than a little angry with him for proving Alix right.
“I know I should have called you, but—”
“I don’t expect you to call. I know how busy you are.” She wanted to move away from the subject. “Do you want a drink? Wine?”
“Is there beer?”
“Beer? I don’t... Yes, I think so...”
She jerked open the fridge door so violently everything inside rattled. She’d chilled a Sauvignon Blanc, but he wanted beer. They always drank wine. Why did he suddenly want beer? Was it the influence of another woman?
She rummaged past vegetables and two neatly stacked containers of food for Holly and found a bottle of beer left by Zac. “Here—” She handed it to him and watched as he snapped off the top and drank, not even bothering with a glass.
“Thanks.” He lowered the bottle. “Holly asleep?”
“Yes. She tried to stay awake for you.”
He pulled a face. “I hate missing storytime.”
Does Mandy know you have a daughter waiting for you to kiss her goodnight?
“Dinner is spoiled, but there’s some soup in the fridge that I can heat up.”
“No need.” He yanked at his tie and undid his top button. “I grabbed something before I jumped on the train.”
Had he eaten with her? Candles? Laughter? Had they held hands?
“There’s cheese in the fridge. Fresh grapes...”
“Nothing, thanks.” He finished his beer and put the bottle down. “We need to talk, Christy.”
What? No! No, they didn’t. Not now. Not right before Christmas.
“You must be tired. I thought maybe we could light a fire and watch a movie, or—”
“Christy.” His voice was sharper. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
She didn’t want to hear it. Not now. Maybe not ever. She hadn’t decided about that part.
“There’s really no need to—”
“There is a need. I know you hate talking about difficult things, but this can’t be avoided.”
Did she hate talking about difficult things? Yes, she did. But that was a perfectly valid way of coping—and if he knew that was her preference why was he forcing her to confront something she’d probably rather ignore?
“Seb—”
“I need to talk. There’s something I need to tell you. And you’re not going to like it.”
Her heart punched a hole in her ribs and her knees turned liquid. She wanted to stop him talking, but obviously he had no intention of doing that, so all she could do was breathe and get through it.
“What?”
He took a deep breath. “I can’t come with you to Lapland. At least, not immediately. Not when we planned.” He stood still, his shoulders tense as he braced himself for her reaction. “There’s a meeting I have to attend on the Tuesday.”
“A—a meeting?” That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. She’d expected a confession about a woman. Bad choices. I made a mistake, but I hope you’ll forgive me.
“I know you’ll be disappointed. This is your dream trip. And it’s Christmas—and I know how you feel about Christmas.”
He knew how she felt about Christmas, but he was going to ruin it for her anyway.
“Are you telling me you’re not coming to Lapland?”
“I’m still coming, but a few days later. I’ll change my flight. You go on without me.”
Without him? This was a family holiday! A special trip Holly would hopefully remember happily for the rest of her life. How could that happen if her daddy wasn’t there? How could it be a family trip without Seb? Which part of that didn’t he understand?
Emotion clogged her throat. “You’re saying you have to work at Christmas?”
“Not over Christmas itself—but at the beginning of our trip, yes. And, believe me, I’m no happier about it than you are.”
She didn’t believe him. If he wasn’t happy, why was he doing it?
“What is this meeting? You work with a team. Can’t you delegate?”
“No. I’m the only one who can do this. It’s tough out there, and I don’t have a choice.”
He didn’t look at her, and that felt significant. He’d always been good with eye contact. It was one of the many things that had attracted her to him in the first place. He looked at her. He saw her.
But not now.
He wasn’t looking at her. He wasn’t coming to Lapland with them. Apparently he had no choice.
There was always a choice.
Work? Did he really expect her to believe that? He was good at his job—that she believed. He’d been promoted several times. But no one was indispensable. And if it was work, then who was Mandy and why was he lying about meeting her?
Panic froze her ability to think. Alix’s warning kept playing on a loop in her head and she could no longer switch it off.
“How well do you really know him? He’s a player.”
Was that true? Had Alix been right?
And what did she do now?
Did she fly to Lapland without him and hope that whatever it was fixed itself in her absence, or did she disappoint Holly, stay home and confront the problem?
Either way, it seemed Christmas was ruined.
3
ALIX
Was she happy with her life? What sort of a question was that? And why had Christy asked it?