“Yes. Talk about a blow to your self-esteem, that will do it. I made up some crisis at work and escaped that very day.” Abby lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I cried a lot on the drive home. I was feeling sorry for myself and disgusted with myself at the same time. And I was depressed.”

“You never talked to her about it?”

“No. Not one word. Even back when she broke up with me that day, we didn’t talk. I was stunned speechless. I’m not certain I said anything to her. So, no, we didn’t speak last year either. There’s been absolutely no contact at all until she sent that damn text.” Abby leaned up on an elbow. “If you weren’t here, do you think I’d fall into that trap again?”

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I’d like to say no. But what has changed? I’m still single. Still alone and lonely.”

“And she’s familiar?”

“Yes,” Abby groaned. “God, I’m pathetic.”

“You’ll be fine, Abby. We’re in a new relationship and we’re falling in love. We’ll be attached at the hip. I won’t give her the chance to get you alone.” She moved over to the bed and sat down too. “Are you sure you don’t want to just talk to her about it, though? Get it out in the open?”

“Oh, no. No, no. That would be the adult thing to do, so no. She wouldn’t be adult about it. That would only give her an opening to rub it in my face. To remind me of how very weak I was. And to deny that her text meant anything sexual.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk to her. Not about that.”

Nic patted her thigh lightly, then squeezed it. “Okay, then let’s get to it. Give me a tour of the Christmas decorations, show me some pictures and stuff.”

“The first thing I’m going to do is guzzle down a glass of wine.”

Chapter Eighteen

Abby was absolutely dreading the first encounter with Holly. She feared Holly would see through their guise and know they were faking it. How humiliating would that be? Right. As if this whole situation wasn’t already humiliating.

She found everyone—including her father—gathered in the living room, standing around the fireplace. It seemed that conversation ceased, and all eyes turned their way. She felt her heart hammering nervously in her chest and she wanted to turn and run back up the stairs. But then she felt Nic’s fingers wrap around her own and she heard Nic’s voice, sounding perfectly normal and at ease.

“Hello, everyone, I’m Nic Bennett,” she said, holding her hand out to her father first.

“Welcome, Nic. I’m Bill. Nice to meet you.”