The Man She Should Have Married

‘You left this in the car.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out her phone. ‘I thought I’d drop it round.’

‘Thank you.’ She took the phone, the mundaneness of their exchange hurting, if possible, more than his rejection had earlier.

Was this what they had been reduced to?

With an intensity that left her reeling, she wished suddenly that she had gone with her parents to Dubai, that he had stayed a memory. And suddenly, before she even knew what she going to do, she was turning and walking away.

‘Nia—’

He caught up with her as she reached the gate, grabbing the top rail firmly, using his superior strength to keep her from opening it.

Abruptly, she let go, spinning round to face him. ‘Why are you still here? You dropped by to give me my phone, right? Well, now you have—so you can go.’

His breath was white in the air. ‘If it was just about the phone, Nia, I would have got Diane to drop it round. I came to talk to you.’

‘Don’t bother,’ she said flatly. ‘We both got what we wanted, remember?’

His eyes locked with hers. ‘I was wrong to say that.’

Reading their expression, she felt misery and anger and frustration flood through her. So that was why he was here: he felt sorry for her.

Every cell in her body was suddenly quivering, ready to split apart. It was all so futile. All of this. It was like trying to meet him in a maze, only with every turn they just ended up further apart.

‘It doesn’t matter. Really, truly. Why should it matter, Farlan?’ She could hardly get her words out. ‘You were wrong. I was wrong—’

‘How were you wrong?’ Now he seemed angry.

‘For being stupid enough to want more than one night with you. And then for thinking it would be a good idea to tell you that was what I wanted.’ She shook her head. ‘Actually, I didn’t even think about it, I just thought This is how I feel and I need to tell him. And so I did.’ She met his gaze head-on. ‘And now I get to relive my stupidity, so you can tell me how “wrong” you were to say what you were thinking.’

‘I was wrong to say it.’ He grabbed her shoulders. ‘I was wrong to say it because it wasn’t true.’

She felt as if it was only his hands that were holding her upright.

‘One night isn’t enough for me either. I knew that the moment I woke up this morning.’

For a moment, she wavered. She wanted it to be true so badly. But with an almighty effort she pulled away from him, shaking her head. ‘I don’t believe you.’

His jaw tightened. ‘You think I’m lying?’

Her chest was aching. Exhaustion was rolling over her in waves. ‘Yes, I do. You always know your own mind. If that’s what you’d been thinking then you would have said something, but you didn’t.’

For a moment he seemed almost stunned, as though she had slapped his face.

‘I did think it,’ he said a moment later. ‘But we’d said it would only be one night, so I wasn’t sure.’

He exhaled heavily. There was a tension to him that hadn’t been there before. Just as there had been in the car yesterday, she thought a moment later. When he had realised that there was too much snow and the threat had suddenly become real.

She stared at him, trying to read his expression.

What threat was there here?

He took a breath. ‘I don’t like not being sure.’

Something in his voice wrenched at her inside. A memory of that first time they’d met, of her thinking she had never met anyone so young and yet so old at the same time.

‘I don’t think anyone does,’ she said quietly.

Her anger had faded. She didn’t know why, but it just wasn’t there any more.