“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?”

He hesitated. “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 thrust it at 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 story time.”

Does Mandy know you have a daughter waiting for you to kiss her good-night?

“Dinner is spoiled, but there’s 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. Are you okay? You seem tense.”

“Tense? I’m not tense. I’m fine.” She could hardly breathe. Had he eaten with her? Candles? Laughter? Had they held hands? “There’s cheese in the fridge. Fresh grapes.”

“Nothing, thanks.” He finished the beer and put the bottle down. He was silent for a long moment and then he looked at her. “We need to talk, Christy.”

What? No! No, they didn’t. Not now. Not right before Christmas.

“You must be tired, so 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.”

And 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 avoidance was a perfectly valid way of coping, and if he knew that was her preference, why then was he forcing her to confront something she’d probably rather ignore?

“Seb—”

“I need to talk. There is 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...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.