“But you think it will be soon?”

“Yes.” I was relieved to discover how certain I felt. “James has means, obviously, so he can come to me, or fly me here. There’s my job, but the terms are only ten weeks long, and then I can travel again.” I was starting to feel better.

“But you didn’t talk about any of that?” she asked.

“No. It didn’t seem the right time to dwell on all that. But, I know we’ll see each other again. Like he said, we’ll work it out.” Calmness washed over me. Talking it through with Cat had helped immensely, and I really did believe it would be okay. I would miss James, yes, but we’d be together again, and as soon as we made plans, I would have that to look forward to. I leant back against the couch and took a sip of tea.

“So, Sarah?”

“Hmm?”

“What about Josh?” Cat asked, hesitantly. “How does he factor into all this?”

Oh, crap. Josh!

I hadn’t given him one thought since … I realised I couldn’t remember the last time I’d thought about Josh.

Josh—the guy who made me laugh until I couldn’t breathe, whose smile made me feel all squidgy inside, and who shared the longing that now fuelled me, the need for a bigger life. Josh—the guy I was seeing for New Year’s in Hawaii.

My sexy American boy.

“Oh, Cat. What am I going to do?” I looked at Cat, stricken, and her face was riddled with concern.

But there was no answer she could give. It was my mess, and she seemed just as flummoxed as I was.

We finished our tea in silence, and I chewed on my thoughts, contemplating how I had let myself fall for two men at the same time.

Then, tea drunk, Cat shooed me off the couch with some much-needed tough love, telling me to freshen up so we could go out for the day. Apparently, she had plans for us and none of them included me moping around her flat. We rode the train and then the tube into central London, and popped up at one of my favourite places—Leicester Square.

It was awash with tourists, as it usually was, and there was a street performer who was doing things with a giant hoop that would have impressed me on any other day. Cat took one look at my morose face and dragged me towards my favourite bookstore in London, Foyles on Charing Cross Road. It wasn’t a long walk, maybe five minutes, and she handled it like she does all crowds—elbows out and barking “excuse me” a hundred times. I followed closely behind, not wanting to get lost in the melee.

“Was this part of the plan?” I asked as we stood roadside opposite Foyles and waited for the little man to go green.

“The plan for today?” I nodded. “Well, no. Not originally. But you didn’t seem too keen on mooching about Leicester Square, so …” She let the thought go unfinished.