And didn’t she know it. She wasn’t good at showing her feelings, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have them. And she wished she didn’t. Feelings were soannoying.There were plenty of days when she thought life would be a lot easier if the human body had been designed to include an on/off switch for feelings. At least then when it all got too much she could have rebooted the system.
She noticed the sign to the car park. “We should probably get moving.”
“Yes. If we’re lucky we’ll be there by late afternoon.”
Only if his luck was better than hers.
He was checking the weather and the route on his phone. “Mm. If this forecast is correct, the journey might not be easy. It’s saying nine hours.”
“Nine hours?Did you say nine hours?”
“It’s snowing. Broken-down vehicles. Lane closures. Don’t worry. We’ll stock up with snacks and you can choose the music.”
The way she felt at the moment her first choice would be a funeral march.
She should have trusted her instincts and refused his offer.
Because it wasn’t true that no one knew the real reason she didn’t want to go home for Christmas. That no one knew her secret.
Will Patterson knew. And now she was going to be trapped in a car with him for nine hours.
Merry Christmas, Becky.
Chapter2
Rosie
Isent her a message and all I got back in response was emojis.” Rosie stared at her phone, trying hard to keep all her emotions locked inside her. It was Christmas, her favourite time of the year. She was wearing her sparkly sweater with her festive skirt and boots and the delicate robin earrings that had been a gift from Becky. She was going home and it was snowing. Actually snowing. They were going to have a white Christmas, which was the pinnacle of perfection in her mind. She should be filled with a feeling of warmth and well-being. Instead she was sitting in the front of a freezing car struggling with a strange mixture of sadness and numbness. She felt as if someone had smashed her heart with something heavy.
“Declan?” She turned her head. “Are you listening?”
The back door of the car was open but there was no answer, and she wasn’t sure if that was because he was busy loading the car with their luggage and hadn’t heard her or because he was still too upset with her to indulge in conversation.
All she’d had from him in the last week was monosyllabicanswers, and it was torture because she was the sort of person who wanted an instant resolution to any problems. But was there even a resolution to this one?
Divorce?
No, no, no! She was not going to think that way.
There was another blast of cold air and Rosie shivered and pulled her coat around herself.
This was their first Christmas together. They should be loading the car with all their luggage and gifts and feeling festive and generally joyful.
Instead they were barely speaking.
They had to start speaking. They had to talk about it. They couldn’t go home for Christmas with this atmosphere simmering between them.
She’d hurt him. But he’d hurt her too.
They both needed to move on from it, but to do that one of them had to make the first move.
She took a breath and stepped out of the car. “Do you need help?”
His head was down and he was currently trying to jam a large box next to her suitcase.
“Declan?”
His head jerked up. Snow clung to his hair and the shoulders of his jacket. “What?”
