Page 95 of Counting Down To You

Here. Leo is here. He flew out to London, to talk to me. My mind won’t quite compute it.

“I don’t have to. If he’s traveled all the way here to see you, you absolutely have to talk to him, no matter what is going on.”

I hesitate, then nod. “I think you’re right.” I grimace. “But I don’t want to bail on you.”

Cal waves a hand. “I give you full permission. In circumstances like these, it is definitely okay to bail.”

My fingers are trembling as I type. I wish I could blame the cold.

Where exactly?

By the Christmas tree.

I hope he doesn’t mean on the ice.

“Go,” Cal demands, giving me a little shove to emphasize the point. “I’m going to get a hot chocolate. I might as well while I’m here.” He gives me an encouraging smile. “You’ll be fine, Al. If he’s come all this way to see you, you will one hundred percent be fine.”

But he doesn’t know, does he? He doesn’t know why I ran in the first place. And now is definitely not the time to tell him.

Instead, I square my shoulders.

You can do this, Ali, Robyn whispers to me.

My emotions are confused and tangled as I make my way back outside and toward the enormous Christmas tree at the edge of the ice rink. I ran from him. I didn’t want to see him. Because he has Robyn’s heart. Because he knew who Robyn was, and he didn’t tell me.

But he’s here. He came all this way to see me.

And, fuck, things only get a whole lot more complicated when I see him, right there, under the glow of the tree. Because he’s looking at me, clearly having seen me before I saw him, and I don’t have the reaction I probably should. I don’t feel angry or betrayed or hurt. My stupid, traitorous heart is glad to see him there. More than that, for a second, I feel lighter. Like how you feel after you haven’t seen someone you love for far too long. Only it’s not been that long. And I don’t love him.

Of course I don’t.

I can’t love him.

His mouth lifts at one corner—his not quite smile. “Hey,” he says.

I shove my hands deep into the pockets of my coat to save me doing something stupid like reaching for him. “Hey.” God, I’ve missed him. And I hate myself for it, because it feels like I am betraying my best friend. Missing the man who has her heart. Who is here, alive, when Robyn is not.

“Want to get a drink?” Leo asks. As if this is a casual meeting, as if he hasn’t literally flown over from another country to be here.

“Yes. Okay.”

I lead us to the opposite side of the rink to where I’ve just been with Cal, not wholly trusting Cal not to sit and eavesdrop if we end up near him.

“You here alone?” Leo asks.

I shake my head. “I was with a friend.”

“Ah. Well, sorry for gate-crashing, in that case.”

“No, don’t be—it’s fine. He’s fine about it, I mean.”

It feels awkward. With a pang, that makes me realize how easy things had become between us.

We order drinks. I stick to my plan of a hot chocolate, though opt for a Baileys one, figuring some extra courage would not go amiss right now. Leo goes for a mulled cider. We take our steaming cups to a free table, looking out at the rink. The sun is starting to set now, the lights of the Christmas tree reflecting off the white ice, the golden Skate sign glowing on the stone building overlooking the courtyard.

I cup my hands round my drink for warmth. Across from me, Leo runs a hand through his dark chestnut hair, then shakes his head.

“I have no idea where to start,” he says.