Page 18 of Snowed In
And when I left him, I was no longer Megan from down the road. I was the girl who broke his heart. Unfriended, unliked, and unsupported. The level of animosity wasn’t something I was used to. So I stayed away. For everyone’s sakes. And now I was coming back. Single and broke and…no, that’s it, actually. That’s me.
“I’m not asking you to make an announcement in the village square,” Mam continues as though reading my mind. “But I’d like you to be at the fundraiser.”
Her Christmas fundraiser, she means. The one she hosts every year. A snazzy, decadent affair where we dress up, drink up, and raise a lot of money for the local hospice. She’s thrown one every year since I was a kid, and it’s a big deal to her. She works hard on it, she looks forward to it, and she’s never once pushed me to go since the wedding. Not until now.
“I’ll be there,” I promise. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Good.”
I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
“I bumped into Sophie O’Meara yesterday,” she adds, and I still.
“What?”
“She wanted to know how Aidan was getting on.”
But not me. Not her actual friend. Or her ex-friend.
“She’s a teacher now,” Mam continues in a “just like you were going to be” tone. “Moved into that old cottage by the church.”
Fantastic.
“Mam, please don’t speak to Sophie.”
“Why not?”
Because she doesn’t speak to me. The words are on the tip of my tongue. But I don’t say them. Because if I did, I’d sound like I was twelve.
“Megan—”
“You’re right,” I say. “Never mind. That’s great news about Aidan. I’ll let you know the timings, but I’ve got to go, okay?”
“If you’re just hanging up to—”
“I’m not. I’ve got someone over.” And knowing it’s the only thing that will get her off my back, “A date.”
She instantly changes tune. “A date?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, why didn’t you say anything?” she asks, sounding half-annoyed and half-delighted. “Is he—”
“I’ll talk to my boss on Monday,” I interrupt. “And book some time off. Alright? Love you! Bye!”
I hang up, dropping my head back as I allow myself one moment of stressing about everything before letting it all out. There’ll be plenty of time to worry later, but right now, I deserve to relax.
And luckily for me, I know just how to do it.
Or at least who to do it with.
I do another quick check of the room, making sure it’s presentable before slipping back out to find Christian sitting on the couch, his beer abandoned with mine on the table. He looks up when I appear, and I linger a little obviously in the doorway, but when he just sits there, I decide to join him.
“Sorry about that,” I say. “Parents.”
“You’re grand,” he says, as I adjust the cushions. “You weren’t kidding about your mam, were you?”
I’m confused for a moment before I realize he must have heard every word.
