Page 56 of An Italian Wedding Adventure

His stomach flipped. They’d both mentioned the bet in passing over the past week, in banter. But every time, it made him wary of the consequence of losing the bet. He’d happily give her the stone, but how would he explain why he had it?

The point was moot because there was no way he’d ever cry. He hadn’t cried at Miro’s wedding – he hadn’t even cried at Miro’s funeral.

‘We should head down before the wind gets worse,’ he mumbled.

22

He was purposefully quiet as they tramped back to the top of the chair lift, reminding him of their first two treks, where he’d tried so hard not to dwell on what she made him feel. He was dwelling, now – brooding, even.

She’d said one week. He had three months – perhaps four – before Manaslu and whatever came after that. He’d already started thinking of how he could spend more training time in Weymouth – or Bath. He wanted to meet her dog. He wanted to look Rory in the eye with the hint of a thousand broken bones.

‘You’re quiet,’ Sophie said warily as the rocky summit ridge gave way to rolling meadow.

He would rather have her teasing. ‘Aren’t I usually quiet?’

She inclined her head in acknowledgement. ‘I suppose the past week was the anomaly, not this afternoon.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean the smiling, the… displays of affection.’

He snatched her hand mainly to make a point. ‘I can be quietanddisplay affection.’

‘So you can.’ She paused. ‘As long as everything’s okay.’

‘How can everything be okay when you’re leaving tomorrow?’ he blurted out. ‘Youseem pretty peaceful.’ She peered up at him in confusion and he bit his lip, wishing he hadn’t said anything. ‘Sorry, you didn’t deserve that. It’s my problem.’

‘Where have I heard that before?’ she said with a sigh. ‘Is this to do with the wedding? Have you decided you’re chickening out?’

‘I don’t know,’ he answered woodenly.

‘If you are, it’s better to just tell me, Andreas. It’s called “planning” a wedding for a reason.’

‘I don’t know!’ he snapped. ‘I want to help you, but I’m committed to this expedition and there’s a chance they’ll decide on the September window. I’ll let you know as soon as I can.’

‘Okay, fair enough.’

That was also more grace than he deserved.

Over dinner at the same restaurant as the first evening, they casually discussed the drive to the airport the following morning while he tried desperately not to picture her walking through a set of departure gates without him and then called himself all kinds of hypocrite for putting his family through that exact scenario so many times – except worse, because of the chance that he’d never come back.

That was his real life, not lounging for an hour in bed with Sophie every morning, discovering new ways to make her laugh – and moan. He was a mountaineer, not a guide for a Sunday stroll with Aunt Frieda. It might be best for both of them if he didn’t do the wedding. He could suggest to the Polish team that early September would be a better time to depart for Nepal.

He could disappoint Sophie once and for all.

‘Andreas,’ she said, her voice firm. ‘I can see something’s bothering you.’

‘When we get back to England, do you want me to come up to Bath to meet Lily and Roman?’

She studied him. ‘If you like, but if you can’t commit to the wedding, I’m not sure if it would be worth the trip.’

‘If I was… in Bath…’ Now she was looking at him as though he had a screw loose and he wasn’t sure she was wrong. ‘I want to seeyouin Bath.’

She blinked. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’

‘It’s a terrible idea, but I still want to.’

‘For what? More sex? Casual, the way you’re used to?’

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