“The other reason I bought it, as well as to say I love you, was because I have a favour to ask. My parents want to have us over for dinner tomorrow night. No agenda, just a dinner to spend some time together, to get to know their future daughter-in-law. I’ve said yes already, because I assumed that a Tuesday would be okay for you. Is it okay?”

Her spirits dropped to a new low for the day. “Tomorrow night?” She’d hoped to see Jordan, but now she wasn’t free at lunch or in the evening.

She couldn’t say no to this, could she? Not when Marcus was looking at her like a puppydog. She sucked her top lip between her teeth. “Sure, tomorrow is fine.”

Marcus studied her face. “Good acting. You’re getting better at this.” He grinned. “Thank you.”

Her phone beeped, and she walked over to the couch, as Marcus resumed his flower arranging. It was a message from Jordan.

Abby gulped. Should she cover it with her hand, or take it in the bedroom?

She was being stupid. She clicked on it.

Hope you got home okay. We still on for lunch tomorrow? To talk about your speech and everything else?

She ground her teeth together. Jordan was going to think she was fobbing her off, but there was nothing she could do.

Really sorry, but something’s come up. I’ll text you in the week to rearrange. She studied the message. Did it sound cold? She deleted what she’d written, looked up at Marcus, then wrote it again. She didn’t have time to worry. She’d explain it to Jordan when she saw her. She clicked send, a feeling of foreboding settling in her stomach. She’d just postponed seeing her, and now she was going to have to sit through a dinner with Marcus and his parents.

“Everything okay?” Marcus asked. He walked over and kissed her lips.

It took everything Abby had to hold it together in that moment. “Fine.”

But now she knew.

She didn’t want to be kissed by anyone but Jordan.

Chapter 23

Jordan didn’t ever recall running so hard or so fast, but today she needed it. Karen was lagging behind as Jordan ripped up Brighton seafront. Even the circling seagulls avoided her, knowing she meant business. The June weather was hitting the late 20s, but the seafront still held a pleasant breeze for running. However, even the sun on her face couldn’t change her mood. She was running to forget.

It was only when she stopped that her body remembered she wasn’t a natural runner, and she began wheezing for Britain. That was how Karen found her moments later: doubled over and gasping for breath. Her flatmate guided her to one of the weathered benches overlooking the sea. They sat, until Jordan got her breath back.