Always, in December(27)
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah.” Her lips threatened to tremble but she kept them still. “It’s a part of me now, I guess, something that will always be there, but I came through the other side, for sure.” She squeezed his hand and gave a little head toss. “I mean, you’ve seen me with my sunny disposition and all that.”
He smiled, but it still looked sad, like he understood that the weight of it still hit her sometimes, the fact that she’d never gotten to really know her parents as people, before they were taken from her, the fact that they lost their lives all too soon, that it could have been different, if only they’d stayed at home that night.
Max was quiet and a little distant as they made their way back to London, sitting in the window seat of the train and staring out at the passing landscape as the sky grew dark. It was like she’d upset him, talking about her parents, like she’d reminded him of something, and now he was lost in thought. She was too unsure to ask outright, not wanting to force him to relive a traumatic memory if he didn’t want to. He’d talked about his parents in New York, about his sister, but she knew that losing a close family member was not the only kind of loss.
He came with her all the way to her flat, and walked her up to her floor, the light still flickering in the corridor. It was cold enough in the corridor that they could see their breath. Josie turned to him and smiled as she fished for her keys. “Thanks for today. I suppose you were right—some kinds of surprises are OK.” The hint of a smile he gave her didn’t reach his eyes and she looked away from it, back down at her bag. She found her keys, then hesitated. “Do you…want to come in for a drink or something?”
“I’d better not,” he said, and even though she left a short pause for him to elaborate, he said nothing more. She tried not to feel stung by that. Maybe he thought that she was too damaged, having become an orphan at nine. Maybe he didn’t want to get any deeper into whatever it was they were doing here with someone who had that kind of trauma in their past. She focused intently on unlocking and opening the door. She shouldn’t have said anything. But then, maybe she didn’t want anything more to do with him if that was the way he felt.
“Well,” she said, as she stepped inside and turned to him, forcing a bright smile even though it felt almost painful to do so. “Thanks again.” He didn’t mention the party tomorrow so she didn’t either—she certainly didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want to do.
Max nodded, glancing briefly into her flat before looking up at the mistletoe still hanging above the doorway. Josie followed his gaze. She should have taken the damn plant down the moment Bia was out the flat. When she looked back at Max, she jolted as his gaze met hers, his eyes still holding that same sad, intense look. He frowned ever so slightly as he looked at her, like he was trying to decide something. Then he stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and tucked her hair behind her ear, his fingers leaving pinpricks of warmth behind them.
“And thank you,” he murmured.
She felt her heart stutter and took in a breath. “For what?”
Just the hint of a smile grazed his lips. “For keeping me company.”
He leaned into her, brushing his lips against hers gently, offering up the mere whisper of a kiss. It was enough to make the nerves along her forearms prickle. He pulled away, only to rest his forehead against hers for a moment. He sighed softly. “Goodnight, Josie.”
Josie’s phone buzzed and she reached across her dressing table to grab it, sucking in a sharp breath as she accidentally brushed the corner of her ear with her hair straightener. She set the straightener down carefully on the heat mat as she read the WhatsApp from Laura.
What are you wearing??
Josie glanced in the mirror briefly before replying. She’d spent longer than usual on her makeup, using her special Charlotte Tilbury eye palette, a present from Helen, and following the tutorial to create the “Sophisticate” look, but she still thought she looked plain and boring. It was stupid to think it mattered, she knew that. It wouldn’t make her any less redundant or Oliver any less of a cheater. But still.
My blue dress, she typed back—the blue dress she always fell back on, skater style. She’d decided to play it safe on that front. At least she knew she looked nice in that. Are you not already ready?
Course, came back the reply. John and I are getting a drink just across the road so we’re there on time. Josie snorted. Laura had literally never been late to anything as long as she’d known her. Just checking you’re actually still coming.
As if I’d bail on the free Prosecco.
Laura sent her back a line of strong arm emojis.
Josie went back to straightening her bangs, her stomach twisting and churning as she thought about braving the event. The toast she’d just had to line her stomach now felt like a bad idea. Because on top of the Oliver and Janice issues, she didn’t know if Max would show. She’d told him to meet her here at five originally, but that was before he’d gotten all weird with her, and they hadn’t exchanged numbers, so she didn’t even have the option of sending him an ever-so-breezy text message.
She jerked the straightener again when her phone started flashing so that she hit her scalp. She winced as the heat seared it. For God’s sake, Josie, get a grip.