Page 94 of When London Snow Falls

“Well…” I reflect, giving her a wry smile. “I readLittle WomenandNineteen Eighty-Fourand was thoroughly upset. My own doing. I asked for books with unhappy endings.”

She shakes her head at me. “Why on earth would you want that? Isn’t life hard enough already?”

“Fair point,” I concede. “But you know that thing about misery liking company? That was my working hypothesis. Turns out it was a shit hypothesis and only made things worse.”

“Of course it did. I could have told you that.”

“You,” I say with dignity, “were entirely out of commission. I only take so much advice from a woman who took up camp on the bathroom floor.”

“You would have done exactly the same in my position.” Emily laughs.

“True. And I would have been far more complain-y about the whole thing. Anyway, I just felt like suffering.”

“Why?”

I shift, uncomfortable. Confession time. “Because I ended things with Ben. Though they’d barely started.”

“Wait. What? You ended things with the man who made you happy?” Emily frowns at me.

“Yeah…”

“Well, that was silly. Why would you do that?”

“Because…plenty of reasons,” I say, defensive. It’s not a good time to think of Ben, naked and glorious on our hotel bed in Brighton, or beneath his window in his room while snowflakes drift outside. Or lost in kisses. Or sharing a laugh on the way to the wool shop while blindfolded.

“Name them.”

I groan. “I don’t know.”

“Charlie…”

“Okay, okay. All right. So, I had an idea. Actually, it was a coworker’s idea that I go surprise Ben and go to his gig in Liverpool. I got there and security was taking me to him…only to discover fucking Maximus St. Pierre kissing Ben after giving him an armful of the most beautiful roses I’ve ever seen. Probably caught him in mid-marriage proposal.” I grimace. “So naturally I freaked out and ran away. Which is the only reasonable response, in my defense, when the guy you’re seeing is obviously involved with Maximus St. Pierre.”

Emily takes a long moment to process this, looking startled. “The musician.”

“The clockmaker.”

She shakes her head. “I’m trying to help you. Don’t get snippy with me. Or I’ll Charles you.”

She knows how much I hate being called by my full name.

“Sorry.” I give her an apologetic look. “So I took off. We talked later. He said it wasn’t his idea but Maximus’s. I said I just couldn’t do whatever we’re doing, that he didn’t tell me about Maximus. I mean, seriously, Emily. I don’t have time for romance. I need to worry about you and Carys. Just look at this last week. Case in point.”

Emily sighs. “Is that what you want?”

“Want?” I waver. “Wanting never helped anything.”

She laughs. “Do you like Ben?”

“Of course I like Ben.” More than like Ben, if I’m honest. I’ve more than liked Ben since dangerously soon after we got together. So soon it scared me.

Emily gives me an appraising look. “And he treats you well? I mean, clearly he’s thoughtful to loan you the van to get here last time. And every time I heard you talk about him before this you were practically glowing. You sounded…happy.”

I gulp. “So?”

“Oh, Charlie. It’s not often you find someone who makes you happyandtreats you well. And you have so much in common…”

“But you and Carys…it’s different than his world.”

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