He wore a T-shirt and tracksuit pants, and still, he managed to look as good as he had in his shirt and jeans. Possibly more now since the casual look contrasted so strikingly with his face. She would always think it was the kind of face that belonged to men in ad campaigns. The casual look he wore now made that fact—and how handsome he was—even clearer.
Her heart throbbed, a mixture of anticipation and disappointment. Despite all of the reasons why she shouldn’t, she still wanted him. And knowing that she couldn’t have him was as torturous as her attraction to him was.
His eyes flickered over her before he reached for the remote to turn the aircon on. Then he settled on the bed, directly opposite her. There was a long moment of silence before she managed to say, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘What are you apologising for?’
‘What happened outside.’
‘You don’t have to.’
‘I do.’ She paused. ‘I made you think that I didn’t want you.’ She lifted her eyes to his. ‘You know that isn’t it, right?’
‘I’m not sure that I do,’ he said after a moment. ‘Things were pretty weird.’
‘Yeah,’ she agreed lamely. Because the description was apt. Things had become weird quickly, and she was the reason for it. ‘I stopped us back there because if I didn’t after we were interrupted, I... I don’t think I would have.’
‘That’s a problem?’
‘We both know it is.’ She sucked in a breath. Hoped he’d understand that they couldn’t entertain whatever was happening between them when they were going home to face their issues. ‘We’re making things awfully complicated for ourselves. For when the spell ends.’
‘Why does it have to end?’
‘Ezra—’
‘I’m serious,’ he interrupted. ‘Why does it have to end? We’re going back to the same place.’
‘Because—’ you might end up being another crutch for me ‘—I’m not staying in that place. I can’t. I’ve told you that.’
‘I thought you’d change your mind.’
‘You thought...’
She trailed off when it made her head spin. Had she given him the impression she was staying? Did she somehow reveal her desire to depend on him?
Or was he just thinking what she’d thought? That she could stay. For him. With him.
But when she’d thought it, she’d instantly dismissed it. As she studied him, she realised that he didn’t see why he should have, too.
‘So,’ she said after a moment, ‘you thought I’d change my mind about staying. Who would I be staying for?’
There was a beat before he said, ‘Us.’
A pang went through her chest as she thought about how much she wanted there to be an ‘us,’ but she nodded.
‘Right. You didn’t see anything wrong with that logic?’ He didn’t answer her question. She pushed more. ‘You don’t think staying for the sake of us when we’ve only known each other for a day is premature?’
‘Things aren’t normal between us.’ His voice was tight. ‘We both know it. We’re living it right now.’
‘Fine. Say I agree with you.’ She paused. ‘I do agree with you.’ She could give him that. She could give them both that. ‘You don’t see any similarities between this conversation and the one you had with Liesel at some point in your relationship?’
His eyes widened, and in them she saw him processing her words. Realising the truth of them. Wanting to deny it but being unable to.
She hated that she’d done it to him, but she had to. He’d romanticised the idea of them to the point that it had obscured the truth. There was no future for them. He wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. Neither was she.
And okay, yes, she’d done it because she’d seen similarities, too. Between how desperate they were to turn this into something and how desperately in love her parents had been. It wasn’t strictly the same, but she knew how it went. How desperation turned into dependence. How dependence would complete her transformation into her mother.
Into relying on someone other than herself.
She’d already slipped into it without realising it. Having Ezra around would only make her desire to get out of it harder.
So she’d been blunt. It felt as if she’d stabbed him with a blunt knife; now she was watching the blood drip down his chest onto the floor.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said when all she could see was the blood. ‘I know you don’t want to think about it again. But I wanted to make you see that—’
‘You don’t have to apologise for being honest with me,’ he interrupted. A beat later, he said, ‘You don’t have to apologise for being right.’
‘Don’t I?’
‘No.’ He lifted his eyes to hers. ‘I did have that conversation with Liesel. In it, she told me I had a choice. Either go with her, or stay behind without her.’ He paused. ‘She was pretty clear about what without her entailed.’
‘I... I didn’t realise.’
‘How could you have?’
‘Still, I shouldn’t have—’
‘Angie,’ he interrupted, and the courage she’d had for a brief moment—the courage that would have allowed her to tell him that what she’d said hadn’t been entirely for his sake—vanished. ‘Stop. Right until now, I hadn’t thought about Liesel’s words as an ultimatum. Which was probably why I didn’t see the similarities between that and this.’ He cocked his head. ‘Well, that, and the fact that you and she have very little in common.’
‘Thank you.’
His eyes widened and he laughed. ‘How do you know I meant that as a compliment?’
‘Because you haven’t kicked me out of the room yet?’ she asked wryly.
‘True.’ He leaned forward, rested his forearms on his thighs, then he shook his head. ‘I did mean it in a positive way. You and she... You’re different. I’m a different person when I’m with you.’
‘In a good way?’
‘Yes.’
His hand twitched, and she thought he might have wanted to take her hand. She tried not to feel hurt by the fact that he didn’t. She’d put this distance between them after all. She’d reinforced it with all her logical observations. She had no right to be hurt by her emotional observations.
‘I also wasn’t giving you any kind of ultimatum,’ Ezra continued. ‘I was exploring a possibility. A viable one.’
‘It’s not though.’ She released the air in her lungs. Sucked in some more. ‘I can’t stay here.’
‘You can, Ange,’ he said gently. ‘You don’t want to.’ He continued before she could respond. ‘Which is fine.’
‘Is it?’ she asked tightly. ‘Because it feels like you don’t believe it.’
‘No, I think you don’t believe it.’ When she only looked at him, he sighed. ‘I’m not going to pretend like I don’t want you to stay. And I’m going to tell you that your family probably wants you to, too, but not because I want it to sway you. I just want you to—’ He broke off on an exhale. ‘Just be conscious of what you’re choosing. Be, I don’t know, active in the choice. You’re in control of what you want to do. No one is keeping you from doing it, whatever it is.’
She felt it resonate within her, those words. Heard her own intake of air at the realisation. At the fact that she’d been choosing to live her life in such a mess almost without her knowing it.
She’d chosen to look after her sisters and support her mother. She’d chosen to become dependent on her father. First, during his life; now, because of his legacy. Being subservient to what she believed her family wanted from her was a choice. It was hard to accept that she didn’t have to choose that life. She just...had.
It unsettled her. Made her restless. Because of it, she stood. Or maybe she stood because she wanted to choose something that made her life feel like her own again. She offered Ezra her hand.
; ‘How about we go outside one last time before bed?’
* * *
He stared at her, but stood and took her hand. Questions spun in his head; they didn’t matter. Angie could have told him she wanted to make love outside in the trees and he would have gone with her.
Not that that was as outlandish as he’d meant for it to be.
His body tightened merely at the thought of it. He nearly lost his breath when she opened the cabin door and his mind entertained that possibility again. It didn’t take long for him to realise he was being an idiot, letting a body part other than his brain think for him. Slowly, the blood returned to his head.
When it did, he realised she’d taken the key of the cabin, locked the door behind them and was leading him to the back of the cabin.
‘So you are planning on murdering me, after all. Ah, well, we had a good run.’
She snorted. ‘Still on that, are you?’ There was a pause. ‘Why would I take you outside to murder you, Ez? I had the perfect opportunity in the lodge.’
‘Less clean up?’
‘Fair point. I’m pretty sure people have seen me take you to the back of this cabin though. I wouldn’t have to clean up at all in that case.’ She stopped. ‘I’d leave your murdered body as is and accept my punishment.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re scary.’
‘I know.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘Fortunately, I have no plans to murder you. I just wanted to be outside away from the party goers.’
‘You mean you wanted privacy to kill me.’
‘You realise that if anyone’s listening to this conversation, it would incriminate me for a crime I didn’t commit?’
‘I do realise that.’
Her eyes turned to slits. ‘You better not turn up dead in the morning, Doctor.’
He smiled. ‘I’ll try my best. So, if you didn’t bring me out here for murder, what then?’
‘I told you. I wanted to be outside.’
‘We could have gone somewhere else. Somewhere better than...this.’
The main path they’d taken had split off into narrower pathways made of small brown rocks that led directly to the cabins’ front doors. The narrow pathways, in turn, enclosed a large open patch of grass. Trees stood between the cabins, towering over parts of the pathway, though they didn’t reach the grass where he and Angie were currently standing. Because of it, they had a clear view of the stars twinkling above them.
He supposed it wasn’t the worst place to be. Plus, it was relatively quiet. Either the guests had already gone to sleep or they were still partying. Music sounded far in the distance, so he thought the latter. Still, he would have preferred something better for their last night together.
Angie was speaking before the pang of that thought could reach his heart.
‘You’re right. There probably is a better place.’
She stepped forward and he held his breath when she didn’t stop until she was right in front of him. He slowly let it out when she put her hands around his waist, which no doubt made him look like an idiot. But he couldn’t not breathe with her so close. Especially not when he wanted to inhale what the lemon body wash they’d used in the cabin had done to her scent.
He wasn’t disappointed, though his mind quickly ignored how intoxicating she smelled and instead, focused on the fact that she was staring up at him expectantly.
He blinked. ‘Did I miss something?’
‘No. I mean, I was wondering whether you were going to put your arms around me, too. Granted, it is a bit presumptuous of me to hold you like this, but I didn’t think you’d mind.’
‘I don’t,’ he blurted out, and she smiled. He was acting like a fool; he didn’t care. He put his arms around her, drawing her in closer.
‘See, this is why I wanted to come here.’
‘Why?’
‘Can’t you hear it?’ she asked softly and began to sway with him. As she did, he listened to the faint music of the song that was playing. It was fast, not suited to what they were doing at all.
‘I know,’ she said when he opened his mouth. ‘I was hoping they’d slow it down to something more romantic—it is a wedding—but I guess we’re out of luck.’
‘Doesn’t matter.’
‘No.’ Her eyes softened. ‘It doesn’t, does it?’
She lay her head on his chest, and they kept moving like that, despite the fact that they could barely hear the music. Perhaps that was a good thing, he thought with a smile, resting his head on top of hers. Now, at least, they could pretend the music was appropriate for their dancing.
What did it matter anyway? How could anything besides this matter? That they were standing here, together, in each other’s arms. That they were present in this moment. That they didn’t have to think about the what-ifs of tomorrow. That they didn’t have to think about anything other than right now.
He tried to memorise it. The feel of her, the smell of her. He tried to memorise the song that was playing, and where they were standing. As the song ended, he realised that they were both barefoot. The grass was damp from the evening air, and they both looked as if they’d just stumbled out of bed.
‘This is ridiculous,’ he said, drawing back from her. ‘You brought me out here without shoes.’
She blinked, looked down at her own feet, at his, and grinned. ‘So I did. I barely noticed.’ There was a pause. ‘You must not have either, or you would have said something sooner.’
‘Guilty.’ A new song began to play. For some reason, it sounded louder. He frowned. ‘You can hear that, too, right?’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘I think it means we’re at the portion of the evening where people need to turn up the music to keep the party going.’
After a brief moment, the beat began to play. It was a popular summer song that could be heard on almost every radio station, with a beat that begged to be danced to.
‘Do you know how to salsa?’
She frowned. ‘No. But I’m pretty sure you don’t either.’
‘Then you underestimate me. Again.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m disappointed.’
He went through the basic steps slowly, giving her a moment to join in. She didn’t. She just stared at him. Realising she was surprised—really, when was she going to learn?—he bit back a grin and moved faster, including a hip movement he knew was better suited to the kwaito he’d been doing earlier.
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, he thought she’d stopped breathing. And then she laughed. Loudly, and he felt...refreshed. As if he’d spent the entire day doing physical labour and had just had a shower and settled down with an ice-cold beer.
Which made him want to continue the ludicrousness of what he was doing, and he did. She doubled over with laughter, her head tilted up to watch him, tears running down her face.
‘Stop,’ she said after what felt like forever. ‘Please, stop. I can’t keep laughing like this.’ She straightened, wiped at the tears. ‘Where did you learn how to do that?’
He took a couple of deep breaths before he answered.
‘My sister needed a partner for some of her dance classes. She did it for fun and asked me to go with her.’
‘You went to dance classes for that?’
The thought inspired a fresh bout of giggles. He waited for her to stop with a faint smile. When she was done, he said, ‘Not quite that, but clearly you weren’t interested in what I did learn in dance class.’
‘I’m sorry, it was surprising.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Okay, okay, teach me, Master. I’m ready to learn.’
‘Are you sure?’ he asked dryly.
She lifted her hands in mock surrender, nodding at him. Resisting the smile, he began to show her the steps, and for what was left of the song, that’s what they did. They didn’t have very long, but they didn’t need it—she was a fast learner. She fell into th
e rhythm of the dance quickly, moving her hips, her shoulders, too. By the time the song had ended, she’d got the gist of it.
‘Do you think it would be weird to ask them to play it again?’
‘Probably, considering how we look. And the fact that we’re not there.’ He grinned. ‘But we already know we can dance however we like even if the beat isn’t suitable,’ he said when her face fell. ‘Come on.’
As they danced, as they laughed, Ezra told himself to memorise this, too. Because when she went home the next day—his heart burned thinking of it—he wanted to think of them like this. Happy, free. And hopeful, he thought, dipping her, and relishing the laugh she gave for his efforts.
The smile that split across his face was the version of himself he wanted to remember, too. Not someone with a broken heart. Or someone fearful of moving forward again because of that broken heart.
He didn’t want to be defined by his past mistakes. By his fear of disappointing his parents. Not anymore. It was time to move on. And maybe that had been the point of this day. This beautiful, magical rollercoaster of a day where he’d faced his broken heart and survived. Where his stupid gamble to come to his students’ wedding despite his initial cowardice had paid off. Where he’d got to enjoy Christmas in its entirety. Where he’d felt part of a community as he did.
There was also the Christmas miracle in front of him. The woman he could have sworn he knew for more than one day. The woman who had quite frankly changed his life.
He stilled at the thought of it, and she stopped, too, out of breath.
‘What? What is it?’
‘Nothing,’ he lied, heart aching. ‘I’m just... I’m really glad I met you, Angie.
‘I’m glad I met you.’
There was a long pause where he thought they were both thinking about the next day.
‘Do you know what I realised?’ she said, frowning.
‘What?’
‘That since we’ve come here to this little spot, I haven’t once thought about what I was going back to.’
A Wedding One Christmas Page 20