‘Why didn’t you want to come?’ I asked. My senses were swimming in the faint traces of Evan’s aftershave that lingered on his jacket and it was hard to concentrate. ‘Everyone I’ve ever met seems convinced this is the greatest party in the history of the universe.’

He shifted in his chair, his body moving closer by an almost imperceptible degree. Imperceptible to anyone except me. ‘To the rest of the world it is, but for me, it’s kind of an obligation. And no one really enjoys doing something when they have to do it, right?’

‘True enough,’ I agreed. ‘How is this an obligation?’

Evan turned his head towards me, that half-smile on his face again. ‘Let’s make a deal. I’ll answer your question if you’ll answer one of mine.’

‘I just played a game of truth or dare and it went very badly,’ I told him, shaking my head, ‘I don’t know if I’m ready for any more truths.’

‘You can ask the first question?’ he offered.

I sighed as I weighed up my options. It wasn’t as though I didn’t have questions I’d like answered but the thought of ruining my fantasy evening with something as silly as reality wasn’t especially inviting. And yet, just as it always did, my curiosity trumped my common sense.

‘Tell me why you had to come tonight?’ I asked. ‘What’s the obligation?’

He breathed in, then exhaled through pursed lips, long and slow. ‘It’s a family thing,’ he said. ‘I don’t get on so great with my family, but I’m the eldest and my attendance is expected.’

‘You’re the eldest?’ I smiled at the thought of big brother Evan surrounded by mini mes.

‘When Mom died, Dad got remarried pretty much right away,’ he said with a nod. ‘I think it was his way of avoiding the grief but it wasn’t that simple for me. Before I had time to process any of it, I was trying to graduate high school with all these baby step-siblings running around.’

‘That must have been tough,’ I said gently. ‘As if being a teenager isn’t hard enough already.’

His eyebrows flickered upwards in agreement.

‘It wasn’t easy but my first stepmom was so much better than the second. And the third. The fourth one was OK.’

‘How many have there been?’ I asked as he laughed out loud at the look on my face.

‘My dad is New York’s version of Henry the Eighth,’ Evan replied, his laughter turning slightly bitter. ‘Only it goes died, divorced, annulled, divorced. I’m expecting a beheading announcement any day now.’

‘Must make Christmas a bit awkward round your house,’ I said, the weight of his phone and his wallet weighing down the pockets of his jacket as I pulled it around me to keep out the wind.