Page 14 of Single Dad Christmas

And to her chagrin, he let her go. The instant emptiness was astounding. It was as though her body, in those twenty or so seconds, had become totally fused to him. She wanted to shout and scream. She wanted to give into the frustration that was curdling her blood.

She’d walked away from Ares and an almost certain engagement three months ago, but in reality, she’d walked away from herself a long time before that. How quickly after they’d started dating had Louisa needed to focus on who she wasmeantto be, rather than who she was? It wasn’t as though her personality changed completely, but rather, she became used to showing only one side of herself—the polished, elegant, unemotional woman best suited for that role, and that was what she focused on. But in doing so, she’d lost her vivacity and spontaneity, she’d lost her sense of fun.

All the while, she’d seen Grace’s TikToks from her different modelling assignments, all over the world, and her silly videos with friends, taken at three in the morning as they had competitions over who could eat the most outrageous burger combinations, or walk with books on their head for the longest, and Louisa had always felt wistful. Because there’d been no scope in her life for that kind of fun.

This, with Noah, was spontaneous. And yes, she had fun with him. She felt like her old self around him, in fact. Confident, natural, she didn’t need to second guess what she was saying, she didn’t need to worry about offending anyone, or stepping out of line, missing some kind of protocol beat.

Not that Ares had ever made her feel like that. He’d been very supportive, and totally accepting of her. But the pressures of the role, the history, had all seemed like a weight, pressing down on Louisa, and with each day, that weight had made cracks in her confidence and sense of self until she’d reached breaking point.

“What was your question?” she said, as they started to walk again, slower this time, as though each subconsciously wanted to relish the journey.

“How long have you been here?”

“In Sydney?”

He nodded once.

“A little over a month.”

He glanced at her, his expression analytical. “That’s not long.”

“No. And yet, in some ways, it feels like a lifetime.”

They turned a corner right as a car came towards them and for a second, the flash of the car’s headlights landed right on them, so Louisa felt a rush of adrenaline and an instinct to cover her face. To run. Because it was so reminiscent of the photographers who’d stalked her every move.

“You okay?”

Of course, Noah had noticed, because he didn’t miss anything.

She grimaced. “Old habits. I thought the car was…something else.”

“You’re as white as a sheet. Do you need to sit down?”

She laughed, but not with humour so much as frustration. “Honestly, I’m fine. It just brought back bad memories.”

Noah was quiet as he considered that. They went by a shop selling upholstered furniture, and Louisa saw the same armchair in the window that had been there for weeks. It was a pretty blue chair, with gold piping. Old fashioned but somehow whimsical, and there was something about it that she adored.

“Are those bad memories related to why you’re in Sydney?”

He hadn’t let it go. He was curious. That made sense. “Yes,” she said, simply, and smiled at him, because all of that seemed like a long time ago, now.

“Want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” she explained. “I just don’t need to.”

They walked a little further in silence.

“So, you’re the fourth generation in your family to run the hotels, huh?”

He nodded. “I took over from my father, who took over from his father, and so on and so on.”

Her smile was wry. She had more than apassing understanding of hereditary lines of business.

“But you have brothers?”

“Two younger, and a cousin who grew up with us.”

“What do they do?”

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