Before he knew it, they were in the middle of a circle. It was unsurprising, considering it was a South African party, though he wasn’t sure how it had happened. Or how Dave and Jenny had joined them in the middle of the circle, with others sporadically walking in. When he realised they started something that no longer required them, he tried to catch Angie’s gaze to tell her they could retreat.
Instead, he stilled as he watched her.
She was laughing, her curls flying around her face as she followed Jenny in an intricate dance move he was sure he’d never see repeated. Her expression was carefree, and he realised that in all the time they’d spent together, it hadn’t been. Not so completely. Suddenly he understood how much what she was carrying around with her weighed on her.
With everything inside him, he wanted to help her carry it.
It took his breath away and he retreated to the edge of the circle, offering Angie a smile when she sent him a questioning look. He gestured toward the bar, then walked to it and gave his order. While he waited, he drank the water that had been put there as though he hadn’t drunk anything in years.
When the barman set his whiskey in front of him, he downed it with one quick gulp.
As if it’ll keep you from falling.
He shook his head, but the inner voice was right. He’d already known he was falling. Already knew it was a bad idea. He didn’t know if she was another mistake, and he’d already established that falling for her would mean breaking once he landed.
Except now he thought it wasn’t true. Because falling for her was like falling into quicksand. He was sinking slowly, without even realising it. Deeper and deeper, and soon it would be much too hard to get out. It was already closing in on him. The pressure around his lungs. The tightening at his throat.
As terrifying as it was, it also wasn’t. A part of him believed he would never land with Angie. He would keep falling. She was...special. Though his instincts had let him down in the past, he didn’t think they were now. Or rather, he could see he hadn’t been listening to his instincts before.
He’d been a stupid teenager when he’d fallen for Ana. He’d done things and reasoned as only a stupid teenager could. But he’d punished himself for it. He’d punished his adult self for it because he wanted to fit in with his perfect family. With their perfect stability. So when his mind had identified Liesel as the perfect match, he’d willed his entire self to believe it.
But that hadn’t been his instincts.
No, it seemed so damn clear to him now that he’d been running from those instincts more than he had anything else.
He’d found ways to drown it out after he’d believed it had led him astray. Had handily used his studies as a crutch, which in turn, had given him a new crutch—research. He read up on things, made notes, investigated, until logic was all he had. It pushed him into believing that gut feelings couldn’t compete with logic. With reasoning.
If he’d had either with Ana, he wouldn’t have allowed himself to be caught by her. He would have seen the propositions of the argument—that she had been unpredictable and he hadn’t been, and thus, she’d appealed to him—and he would have seen the inevitable conclusion: that she wouldn’t be good for him.
So he’d let logic and reasoning lead him from then on. He relished his research and had even found a job that depended on the skill he’d honed over the years. But he was beginning to think that reason and logic weren’t everything. At least not in this case.
He angled his body, looking at the circle that had grown bigger in the few moments he’d been away. His eyes searched for the woman who’d turned his world upside down in one short day. She’d retreated to the edge of the circle now, too, but she was cheering on those in the middle as if she knew them personally. As if she were as much a part of the family as Becky or Charles.
There was something about her—the light, the energy—that sucked people in. It was hidden underneath acerbic wit and quick quips, but it shone through eventually. Which made the fact that she let him in to more than the light and energy all the more significant. She was falling for him, too.
He didn’t know how hard. He had no idea what it meant for them. But he didn’t care. It was enough that she was falling. That she was feeling.
It was enough.
He ordered her a drink and took it back to the dance floor as the music slowed.
‘I thought you might like this,’ he said, handing it to her.
‘You were right. And a saviour,’ she said, and downed the drink. She laughed as she laid the empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter. ‘How very impolite of me.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said, taking advantage of her distraction. He slid one arm around her waist and pulled her close. Her eyes widened, but her arm lifted around his neck, her free hand taking his as he began to move to the music. ‘It looked fine to me.’
‘I’ll take it.’ Her voice was low. Husky. ‘Even though I know you’re just charming me.’
He chuckled. ‘I think I can spare some charm for the woman who convinced me to face my fears.’
‘You do seem to have changed your mind about all this.’
‘I’ve seen the light.’ He wanted to pull her even closer. He wanted no space between them. But he wouldn’t push her. ‘It was never about the wedding.’
‘Oh, I know.’
She leaned back, her other hand moving to his neck. It almost amused him, the stance that reminded him of his school days. He hadn’t gone to his last school dance. He’d been too busy studying to make up for failing his first term. He wished he could go back to teenage Ezra and tell him he’d make up for it someday.
‘We tend to project our feelings onto these events, don’t we?’
‘Because they make our memories sharper,’ he said. ‘My parents renewed their vows a few years ago. Thirty-five years of marriage.’
‘Did it look like this?’ she teased, though something on her face had wilted. It distracted him from the tension that had come from longing for what his parents had. From wondering if he was finding it.
‘We did think about hiring Father Christmas, but he declined. Something about the North Pole being under construction.’
‘The entire North Pole?’ she asked in mock horror.
‘The whole thing.’ He grinned. ‘Such a shame.’
‘A pity you only discovered your talent for impersonating him now.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’ He shook his head. ‘My point was that that night was incredible. It made me believe that something like that existed.’
‘Were you still with Liesel then?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And you saw yourself having it with her?’
He frowned. ‘No. No, I didn’t.’
‘Okay,’ she said slowly, after a moment. ‘I’m a little confused.’
‘Me, too.’
‘Ah.’
They kept swaying in silence, and he was grateful for a moment to collect his thoughts. He didn’t need to think too hard. He knew he’d ignored signs that he and Liesel shouldn’t have been together. Signs that would have told him proposing was the last thing he should have done.
So why had he allowed that memory to taint weddings for him when the last one he’d attended had been as beautiful as his parents’? And yes, he knew it wasn’t the same thing, but it was still a celebration of love, wasn’t it? It was still a proclamation of love. Of commitment.
‘Man, I’ve been really stupid.’
She laughed softly. ‘Happens to the best of us.’
‘But I wouldn’t have realised it if I didn’t agree to attend this wedding. And if I had attended, I probably wouldn’t have seen past the tacky décor.’
‘Jenny’s mom wanted it this way,’ Angie said, her eyes not meeting his. ‘Jenny wanted it to be tasteful, fun, enjoyable. Like outside.’
/> ‘Angie.’
‘I know what you’re going to say.’
‘Let me say it anyway.’ She met his gaze then. Her own was guarded, but she nodded. ‘I wouldn’t have seen past the tacky décor. I wouldn’t have enjoyed the company—’ as he said the words, he saw Becky and Charles slinking out of the hall. It solidified what he wanted to say to her ‘—I wouldn’t have enjoyed any of it if it weren’t for you.’
‘Well.’ It was all she said for a while, then she shook herself. Literally shook herself, shoulders and all. ‘I’ll be sure to send you an invoice.’
‘Thank you,’ he said sincerely.
Her mouth curved into an unconvincing smile. ‘I’m glad I could help.’
‘You did more than help.’
‘Wonderful. Clearly my work here is done.’
He took a moment to keep himself from speaking out of panic. He knew she’d only stayed because she wanted to help him. If she thought her work was done, she’d leave. That was the last thing he wanted. He also knew that if he told her that, he’d basically be handing her the keys to her car.
‘I suppose it depends on what you think your work here is.’
‘You’re here, aren’t you?’ Her face tightened. ‘You’re over your fear. You’ve had your realisations.’
‘That was it?’ He leaned back so he could see her face more clearly. ‘You simply wanted to...help a stranger get his life back on track?’
‘Call it a Christmas miracle.’
‘Or fate.’
‘Now you’re just being greedy,’ she said, her tone flat. He heard it as a plea for him to stop. He couldn’t.
‘You don’t think the fact that you and I are both here today is fate?’
‘I think that you’re here because you wanted to face your fears yourself.’
‘I didn’t have the courage to until you encouraged me.’
‘I didn’t encourage you. You didn’t even tell me you were here for Jenny and Dave. Not really.’
‘But you knew, which is my point.’
‘And my point is that it doesn’t matter,’ she exclaimed. ‘You stopped her for this wedding, and I stopped here because it was a place I once shared with my family. My father.’ She clenched her jaw, then continued. ‘You spent today getting over your issues, and I spent the day stewing in mine. This wedding made you remember your parents’ vow renewal and you were happy about it. I thought about my parents’ last wedding anniversary and felt physically ill.’
‘You think I was—’ He broke off on a frustrated sigh. ‘I understand,’ he tried again slowly, ‘that this wasn’t easy for you.’ She snorted, but he added the anger it evoked to the ever-growing pile of that emotion he was already ignoring to get through to her. ‘It hasn’t been easy for me either. I didn’t just “get over” my issues. Remembering my parents’ vow renewal has been more bittersweet than happy.’
He took a breath. ‘But what are the chances both you and I—being who we are, having been through what we have—would stop here at this place? At the same time? Or that you’d join me at my table? That we’d be able to help each other?’
‘Ezra,’ she pleaded. ‘We were—’ She broke off. ‘Don’t. I want to keep enjoying myself. And pretending—’
‘That whatever happens here doesn’t matter?’ he asked, grinding his teeth.
‘Yes.’ They’d stopped swaying now. ‘Because it doesn’t. How can it? When this dance is over, I’m going back to reality. So are you.’ She released a shaky breath. ‘We’re both leaving this place and the magic that’s happened here will fade, and our problems will still be there. So what’s the point in believing it served a purpose when it’s going to end anyway?’
She had a point. He knew she did; part of him felt the same way. But he also knew that if he let her walk away... If he let her leave... He knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life. So he clung to the hope.
‘Magic deserves a chance, Ange. Even if it’s for a few more hours.’ Now was his turn to plead. ‘Give it a chance.’
Chapter Fourteen
If she were in her right mind, she wouldn’t even have considered Ezra’s words. Unfortunately, at that moment she was distracted by the strength of his arms around her, by his body pressed to hers. And she was completely undone by his words, by the magic, and her mind flooded with reasons she should stay.
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t ignore her responsibilities. Not again. There’d been no spell over what she was going back to; her family was still broken. So was she. Which was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? She’d been running away from breaking when she was already broken. From grief. From anger. From everything she’d run from.
This? Ezra? He was part of the make-believe world she’d been living in where she wasn’t broken. In the real world, there was no magic that would change that she’d already turned into someone she could no longer recognise as herself.
She did see a lot of her mother though.
She drew a ragged breath and pulled away from him.
‘Why couldn’t you let it be, Ezra?’ she asked, heartbroken.
Without another word, she left the dance floor, grabbed her handbag at the table, and headed outside.
She couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t bear it. So she’d leave. And try to forget about the magic she’d experienced a wedding one Christmas.
She manoeuvred through the same crowd of smokers as she had the first time she left the venue, though she’d already reached her car when she realised how dark it had got.
‘Damn it,’ she said out loud, and popped the boot to stuff her handbag in among all the other bags.
‘You’re not going to be able to leave right now,’ came a voice from behind her. She clenched her jaw.
‘Are you following me?’
‘Yes,’ Ezra replied tersely. ‘It’s evening. You’re in a town that isn’t your home. I’m making sure you’re okay.’ He paused. ‘Jenny stopped me before I left the hall. She asked me whether you were leaving.’
‘I should have said goodbye to her and Dave,’ Angie muttered, mostly to herself.
‘No, that’s not it.’ His tone was measured now. ‘She said the roads are closed for the next two hours because of the parade. You won’t be able to get to Cape Town until after then.’
She stared at him, as if somehow, doing so would change his answer. He lifted his shoulder in an annoyingly calm way, and she gritted her teeth, opening the boot of her car again. She reached for her handbag and took out the phone she hadn’t checked in hours. There were no notifications of any kind, which made sense considering her lack of connections.
Even her family group chat was silent, though that wasn’t anything new. They weren’t a chatting kind of family. Besides, she’d told them she would be arriving the next day; there was no need to talk about anything else.
If she needed another reminder about why the universe was being so cruel to her though, she’d have found it in that. She’d thought she wanted a night to soak in being back in Cape Town. She’d thought she wanted to see the lights of the city, and Table Mountain, and feel what it would be like to be back home without the distraction of being with her family.
In reality, she was being a coward; she wanted more time before she had to face them. The universe was giving her what she wanted now though. She had another night away from them. It looked different—being stranded in a town outside Cape Town wasn’t quite the same as choosing to be in a hotel inside Cape Town—but Angie got the point.
You wanted this? Well, here it is.
‘What are you planning on doing with your phone?’ Ezra asked, his expression unreadable, though his gaze had dipped to the phone in her hand. Only then did she realise she’d been staring at it with seemingly no purpose for she didn’t how long.
‘Checking whether Jenny’s right.’
‘
How?’
‘I don’t know. There must be an official website for the Christmas parade. Or maybe somewhere on social media?’
She realised too late she phrased that last sentence as a question. But the doubt had crept in as she was speaking, mostly because she knew Caledon was small enough not to have to rely on the means used by larger cities. There might not be a website or social media.
Not that it mattered anyway.
‘Problem?’
‘Yeah,’ she said with a frown. ‘My network doesn’t get any signal here, apparently.’
It didn’t surprise her. She’d taken the cheapest plan she’d found since she didn’t have any intention of staying in Cape Town long term. The plan happened to be with South Africa’s newest network, which was, it seemed, still struggling to offer people in smaller towns reliable service.
‘What are you going to do?’ he asked almost lazily, and she narrowed her eyes.
‘I’m going to have a chat with the lodge’s receptionist about it.’
She started walking, heard his footsteps behind her, whirled around.
‘You don’t have to come with me.’
‘I know.’
The look on his face told her he’d be accompanying her no matter what she said. She sighed. Didn’t respond. What was the point?
She walked to the reception of the lodge, and after a short conversation with the receptionist, Angie learnt that Jenny had been right. She took a breath and tried to think through her options. If she left in two hours, she’d be driving in the thick of the night. It wasn’t that she was afraid of it, but she hadn’t travelled the winding mountain of Sir Lowry’s Pass in years. The combination of the dark and driving a relatively dangerous road that was essentially unfamiliar didn’t sound appealing.
She blew out a breath. ‘Do you have any free rooms for this evening?’
‘I’m sorry, ma’am,’ the receptionist told her apologetically. ‘Normally, it wouldn’t have been a problem. But we’re hosting a wedding, and with the annual Christmas parade, we’re completely booked.’
A Wedding One Christmas Page 15