He stepped over to a nearby shelf and pulled out a worn, brightly coloured box. ‘Cluedo. Or, as we’ll call it tonight, Royal Cluedo.’
Clemmie laughed as he set the game on the low table between the sofas. ‘Royal Cluedo? What, are we solving who stole the Crown Jewels?’
‘Something like that.’ Oliver grinned as he began to set up the board, carefully laying out the cards and pieces. ‘But to make it more fun, we’ll rename the characters after the royals. Colonel Mustard can be Prince Rupert, and Miss Scarlett… maybe Isobel.’
‘Oh, I like this already,’ Clemmie said, settling into the plush sofa opposite him. ‘But what about Professor Plum?’
‘Prince Frederick, of course,’ Oliver said without hesitation.
‘And Reverend Green?’
‘Let’s make him Prince Henry,’ Oliver said with a wink.
They went back and forth, renaming all the characters, their laughter filling the room.
With the fire blazing and the wine flowing, the game took on a life of its own.
‘You can’t seriously accuse Princess Eloise– aka Mrs White– of hiding a dagger in the ballroom!’ Clemmie said, feigning outrage.
Oliver leaned back in his chair, tapping a finger against his temple. ‘She’s crafty. Don’t underestimate her.’
‘Crafty? She’s one of the most straightforward royals there is!’
‘Ah, but that’s what makes her the perfect suspect,’ Oliver countered, grinning wickedly.
As the game went on, their banter became more playful, filled with dramatic accusations and exaggerated reactions. Clemmie accused Oliver of cheating when he deduced that Princess Helena had used a candlestick in the conservatory, but he protested his innocence, swearing he was merely blessed with unparalleled deduction skills.
In the final round, Clemmie made a bold guess and was triumphant, solving the mystery and winning the game. She stood and did a mock curtsy, adjusting an imaginary tiara on her head.
‘Bow to your Cluedo Queen,’ she declared, unable to hide her smug grin.
Oliver clapped slowly, rising from his seat. ‘Fine. You win. But I demand a rematch sometime.’
As she reached for her wine glass, a thought struck her. ‘Oliver! I almost forgot. I need a dress and a hat for the garden party.’
‘That’s okay, we have time tomorrow to go shopping. Kingswell has some wonderful boutiques.’
‘Kingswell?’ she repeated, her eyes lighting up. ‘Isn’t it very posh there? Am I about to live out a scene fromPretty Woman?’
‘Minus the opera and the penthouse, perhaps,’ he quipped. ‘But then, we’ve already done the opera.’
Clemmie smiled before draining the last of her wine. After the fire had fizzled out and the board game had been tidied away, they climbed the stairs to their rooms, the atmosphere between them shifting as the playful teasing gave way to a quieter, more intimate energy. They reached the top of the staircase and stopped, standing just a few feet apart.
‘Goodnight, Clem,’ Oliver said softly, his voice holding tenderness, like he was trying to say more without saying anything at all.
‘Goodnight, Oliver,’ Clemmie replied, her heart thudding in her chest, faster than it should have. They had talked about the reasons they ended things three years ago, his job, the constant travelling, her café on the coast, and how they just couldn’t make it work. And now, he was leaving again very soon. For another year. It was like déjà vu, but this time, it wasn’t just the goodbyethat stung. It was also the feeling that maybe they hadn’t fully let go of each other.
Neither of them moved but the space between them seemed to shrink, the air between them charged. Clemmie’s thoughts started to spiral…He’s leaving in a few days. He’s still the same guy with the job that takes him all over the world, and you’re the same woman who loves her life at the café. Nothing has changed.
But then, almost without thinking, Clemmie took a half-step closer. Her gaze locked onto his, and for a moment, it felt like everything else faded away. The world seemed to hold its breath, like it was waiting for her to decide,Should I really do this? Should I really let myself feel this again, knowing how it ends?
Before she could second-guess herself, before her mind could catch up with her, she leaned in. Her lips brushed against his, a soft, hesitant touch, almost like she was asking permission. She thought about pulling away. She thought about how it had felt the last time they were together, how they both knew the relationship couldn’t survive their separate lives. She thought about the café, the one thing she could never leave behind, and how much she’d poured into it.
But then his lips pressed upon hers, and she couldn’t stop herself. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a reminder of everything they had once felt, of how easy it had been to get lost in each other. Her mind screamed at her,This doesn’t change anything. He’s still leaving. You can’t pretend this is for ever.But her heart wasn’t listening. All she could feel was the warmth of him, the familiar taste of him, the way his arms wrapped around her like they had never been apart.
She pulled him closer, telling herself that for now, it didn’t matter. For just a few moments, it was enough to pretend that maybe, just maybe, there was something more than just the life they had chosen.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their eyes searching each other’s faces. She took his hand, turned and opened her bedroom door. Oliver followed without hesitation, and as the door clicked shut behind them, the rest of the world faded away.
