‘Ah, poor thing.’ She looked at him enquiringly, still worried about him in turn. ‘And it’s all good with you guys?’

Kris winked. ‘Better than good. We’re keeping the apartment warm and stocked up on humous and pot plants until you return.’

‘But that’s not the main news. Tell her the main news,’ Tove prompted impatiently.

Kris grinned. ‘Marc asked me to marry him and I said yes.’

Bell gasped. ‘Oh Kris!’

‘The wedding’s set for next June. Midsommar’s, in fact.’

‘Oh –’ Bell’s mouth parted, the word an immediate link to her heartache, images flashing through her mind on a silent reel – his eyes; the fireworks; Impressed yet?; the first press of his lips . . .

She saw them both watching her, seeing her freeze, like she had a pause button they could press. That easily, sending her back . . .

‘Ask who his best man is,’ Tove said, pressing play again.

She gave a quizzical shrug, shaking the moment off. ‘Who’s your best man?’

‘You’re looking at her,’ Tove said, giving a dramatic bow.

‘Oh dear God!’ Bell exclaimed in shock – also feeling crashingly disappointed. She knew it wasn’t a competition, but Kris had always felt like her special friend. ‘This is going to be the speech of all speeches, you know that, right? No mercy.’

Kris gave a hopeless shrug. ‘What could I do? She wants to wear a tux.’

‘I’ve always wanted a tux,’ Tove agreed.

‘You’re mad, both of you,’ Bell said, hoping her dismay didn’t show.

‘Have you ever worn a tux?’ Kris asked, one eyebrow arched.

‘Me?’ Her eyes widened as she saw the smile in his eyes. She gasped. ‘I get one too? I’m your best man too?’ Her hands flew up to her mouth in surprise.

‘How is that even a question?’ he demanded, outraged. ‘Of course you are!’

‘Well, I didn’t want to assume. I mean . . . I’m down here now, for one thing.’

‘Yeah, but not forever,’ Tove said, looking panicked.

‘No, but –’ She shrugged. ‘Nothing’s fixed. It could be five months. Could be five years.’

‘I do not think so,’ Kris said sternly. ‘I’m not losing my sister by another mister on account of Mr Right getting it wrong.’

Bell frowned, shifting weight, her easy mood deadening. ‘He wasn’t Mr Right.’

‘No?’

‘He was . . . Mr Right For One Night. That was it.’

Kris arched an eyebrow. ‘That wasn’t what you said when you got back to the city. You were in pieces.’

‘Yes, well, it was an emotional time. After everything that happened with Max, and Hanna and the kids . . . I was all over the place.’

They were both watching her closely, scrutinizing her for lies. ‘. . . Have you spoken to him?’ Tove asked.

She shook her head. ‘Clean break, you know. Best thing. Definitely.’

‘Along with switching hemispheres. Just to be on the safe side.’

‘Exactly,’ she said, realizing a moment too late it was intended as a joke. She gave a delayed smile.