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I had never been able to fathom why some men said they wanted a feisty, strong-​willed, and independent woman, but then when they were lucky enough to be with one they set to work stripping all those assets in order to force her into a submissive shape that she had no desire to inhabit. Why would you take a beautiful, vibrantly colored butterfly and bleach its wings? Did they get some sort of power trip out of it? Did sucking the life out of these women somehow infuse them with a misplaced sense of strength? It must be the case, otherwise they would choose women who were naturally that way to begin with instead of forcing those who weren’t into a box they did not fit.

That certainly seemed to be what my father had attempted to do to my mother. And succeeded.

“Tea? Or coffee?” Lynn asked.

“Tea, please,” Nisa said. “I think I’m still jacked up on the coffee we had at the Christmas market.”

“Ooh, I love that stuff,” Lynn said. “What kind did you get?”

They chatted about the coffee places in town and the wares at the market, Nisa gesturing enthusiastically as she recounted all the trinkets she had admired on sale and Lynn taking note of where she might want to look once she had time to go into town.

“Coffee?” Greg asked me, putting on his bean-to-cup coffee maker.

“Yep,” I said. “No such thing as too much coffee for me.”

“I figured,” he said, smiling.

I passed him the package of artisan brownies I’d purchased for them, and he thanked me, offering us one. I declined, still full of the doorstop-​sized pains au chocolat that Nisa and I had devoured. Nisa followed suit, saying that she was so full of pain au chocolat she was more puff pastry than human.

Once we were each furnished with a mug, we went over to the sitting area, Nisa and I on a two-​seater and Greg and Lynn across from us on a couple of armchairs. The warmth of the fire radiated from our left and we both shrugged off our jackets. I admired the white and silver bauble–​studded garland draped along the fire mantel.

“So, Greg,” Nisa said. “What’s the damage for the car?”

“Not too bad,” Greg said. “Bang on the estimate I gave you on the phone.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Oh, that’s amazing. Thank you so much. For a while there I was worried I’d have to start an OnlyFans account to pay for it.” She sipped her drink as Greg and Lynn laughed, then slid her gaze over to me, and I could tell she was looking for my response. I gave her a genuinely amused smile, and she appeared a little relieved as she finished her mouthful of tea. I got the feeling that Drew wouldn’t have liked her making slightly risqué comments in front of friends. He was probably also one of those guys who couldn’t cope with his woman being funnier than he was. But for me, having Nisa by my side felt like a reprieve. As if I was fully allowed to be my quiet, introverted self, because she could carry the weight of attention for both of us.

I settled contentedly into the sofa, sipping my coffee as I listened to them chat and laugh together. Every now and again Greg would shoot me an impressed look, as if he was indicating his approval. I just gave him a subtle eye roll in return. This thing with Nisa was in its early stages. I had no problem with small gestures of affection in public places or in front of friends. I was more than comfortable with that and I certainly did not mind anyone knowing there was something between us. But I didn’t want to rush her into defining things. She had still been hung up on her ex until recently, and even though it felt like she was now beginning to let go, I didn’t want to be some kind of rebound for her. Whatever I was feeling was a little too intense for that.

Nisa was on her feet now, acting out the Santa-​stabbing scene for Greg and Lynn, and they were both laughing so hard that tears were forming. I openly grinned as I watched her, which was not something my face achieved easily. But she was so infectiously hilarious. I’d never met anyone like her before.

She flopped back down next to me with an exaggerated wipe of her brow—​now sitting a little closer than she had been initially. I took the opportunity to slide my arm around her shoulders and earned myself another raise of the eyebrows from Greg. I probably should have told him that something had evolved between Nisa and me before we came over, but it had been a bit soon to say anything. So all he’d known at the point he’d opened the door to us holding hands on his doorstep was that the two of us had built bridges since the small house fire at her place.

“And how’s the rivalry now?” Greg asked, a cheeky smile on his face. “A bit more . . . friendly?”

I gave Nisa’s shoulders a squeeze, and she shot me a soft smile.

“Perhaps . . . a little friendlier,” she said, turning her gorgeous smile onto Greg and Lynn. “But still competitive.”

I chuckled, not expecting anything less.

“I did buy a few things at the market though,” Nisa added. “To keep myself ahead.” She gave me a wink.

“Not a chance it’ll help your efforts, Ansari,” I said cheerfully.

“Both of your houses look amazing,” Lynn said, scrolling through the entries on her phone. “The best ones in the comp, I reckon.”

Nisa shot me a smug smile and I couldn’t keep the answering smile from my face.

“Well, only about thirty days until we find out,” I said, sipping my coffee.

Once we’d finished our drinks, Greg took the two of us out to the garage to look at the Mini. He’d given it a wash and everything. Nisa admired the polished paintwork and the newly vacuumed footwells, then flung her arms around Greg’s neck. “Thank you so much!” She released him. “She looks as good as new!” She clapped her hands together, then placed a hand over the bonnet. “I’ve missed you, Millicent.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You named your car?”

“Yeah,” she said, bending forward and spreading her arms over the bonnet. “Millicent Mini. My dear old friend.”

Greg chuckled. “I’ll go fetch the card machine for your payment.”