“Oh, I assure you I don’t, but it’s not about me. I’m remaining hopeful for Camille’s sake. He’s too good for her, but she loves him, and if she’s going to love him either way, then he ought to be the best version of himself that he can be to deserve her.”

“And what about you?” asked Ameerah.

“The way I feel at the moment, I will never forgive him. But I’ll never forgive myself either.”

“Oh, Nory, that’s not fair. You thought you’d found a way to help Isaac. If he’d had access to an investigative journalist, he might have done it himself,” Ameerah protested.

“But I broke Isaac’s trust. I thought I was making this grand gesture and imagined him being so grateful and falling instantly in love with me. I guess I got carried away by the fairy tale of it all, the castle and everything.”

“I know what you mean. It felt surreal being all together again, and in a castle for god’s sake! Talk about suspended reality. But I don’t think you’re being fair to yourself. Your motives were good, don’t lose sight of that. What you did wasn’t some kind of ego trip, or because you were enthralled by the scenery. That’s not who you are.”

“I second that,” said Andrew. “You are terrible at parting with books, but you are good at being a lovely human.”

“Can I quote you on that? Maybe I’ll record it and send it to Isaac.”

“Say the word, Nory, and I’ll pay him a personal visit,” offered Seb.

Andrew’s eyes widened. “I am very attracted to you right now, Husband.”

Seb looked over at Andrew and smiled. “Even though I’m a tired and grumpy, harassed parent?”

“Especially because of those things.”

“You guys are actually relationship goals,” said Dev.

Nory was never more grateful for her friends, but being surrounded by two such loved-up couples was a bittersweet experience.

When they spilled outside—replete with fine French cuisine and house wine—the night air felt ice-sharp against their warm cheeks. But the Christmas lights glittering above their heads below the thick black sky, and the city pulsing with energy, the thrum of cars and the wild melody of a million voices, soothed the sting.

Andrew and Seb hailed a cab.

“Don’t you want to get more drinks?” asked Ameerah.

“This is the most excitement we’ve had in months,” said Andrew. “I think we’ll quit while we’re ahead.”

“In bed with a sleep tea by midnight is our idea of how to end a perfect evening,” Seb added. “Our daughter will be awake and ready to play at six thirty a.m., and there is nothing, and I mean nothing, worse than toys that light up and sing when you have a hangover.”

Ameerah grimaced. “Fair play.”