Page 69 of A Winter Wish

“No, it wasn’t like that,” Theo said, apparently figuring out her nonquestion. “We were dating before I left Ireland—obviously. She was from just outside Dublin too; her mum and my mum ran in the same social circles. My mum was desperate to impress their family, because they had the right sort of background or whatever.” He wrinkled his nose. “It’s a side of my mum I don’t really get, but she is always trying to impress. Anyway. My mum was desperate for it to work between us—but it didn’t, which is part of the reason I left.”

Twenty-two. He’d left when he was twenty-two, she remembered. It could still be a childhood sweetheart—the one person Theo never got over—but she didn’t think so, from the way he was telling the story.

“Anyway, I hadn’t seen her in a while, but when I got the invite from Cally—that’s her name—I thought I should try to be there.”

“You’re still friends?”

“Not really. It was nice to see her again in that way it’s nice to see an old acquaintance and feel kind of nostalgic, but she only invited me because of the family connection. That’s why I went back—not really for her, but to see my parents. And, well, it didn’t go well.” He sighed. “Sorry. It’s just weird. It’s a different country, but we’re not far away from them now—they’re just down the coast.” He took a sip of her wine, then looked at her pointedly. “Your turn.”

“What?” He just waited, and realization hit her. A truth for a wish. And maybe the red wine could be blamed for this, but she decided to offer him something a bit different. “If I could make a wish right now,” she said, keeping her voice low, “it would be that we could come back here again next year. That we could come back to this same pub, dance to music, have a few days away from everything.” She felt herself blush as she said it, and she couldn’t meet Theo’s eye. Because when she said we, she meant him.

“That’s a wish you could make come true, you know.”

The way he said it coaxed her into looking at him. The corner of his mouth pulled up into half a smile and she became a little too aware of the inches that separated them under the table. She could imagine it, though—her and Theo sitting here again next year. Could they do that? Could they make a pact to drop everything and meet up, once a year, like people did in movies? Her automatic response was no, because it was a silly dream—a silly wish that she would be stupid to hold on to. But she remembered what Theo had said about her wish jar before. Maybe by “setting them free” you are hiding from what you want, making it so that you don’t have to hope for things.

Then a memory of her dad’s voice, too. One day, if you wish hard enough, it will come true.

But a frown pulled at her forehead. Because wishing for something did not make it come true, did it? And despite the fact that she was having trouble shaking whatever this was between Theo and her, they still wanted different things.

“I don’t want to stay in Bath forever,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to run the company forever.” She glanced at him, wondering whether she’d make him snap at her, for bringing this up. He’d been thrown into this too, after all. He hadn’t always known he’d take over the company, hadn’t been prepared for it. This had changed his life, as well as hers. But the difference was, he had already been in this life, whereas she…“I like my life. I like traveling.”

Theo nodded, his expression mock-serious. “Oh yes, it sucks all this desk-based work we’re doing right now.”

Lexie rolled her eyes. “I just…I worry about the commitment of it all.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed that about you at all.”

She kicked his shin lightly under the table. “I’m trying to explain, OK? I’m trying to make it so you won’t hate me, when we’re done with all this. Because I’m still figuring out what I want to do, and this was my dad’s dream and…and I’m not sure it’s mine.” She broke off, trying to figure out exactly what she was trying to say.

“There’s nothing to say you can’t figure out what you want to do while also seeing if you like doing this for a bit. It’s not a trap, Lex. And I don’t think your dad meant it as one.”

“No. Maybe he didn’t.” She took a sip of her wine—the glass nearly empty now. “What will you do if the company sells?” It felt like she could ask now that they were actually talking about it.

“I don’t really know. But I was OK before; I’ll be OK after. There are other jobs.”

There was no blame in his voice, like there had been in the past—but it still felt tentative, like something could shatter if she said the wrong thing. And she realized she was sad, too. She was sad at the idea that she wouldn’t have a reason to talk to Theo every day, wouldn’t get to see him over the top of her computer or explore new places with him. She’d gotten used to him being there, without even realizing it—gotten used to being annoyed by him, and sparring with him, and them making each other laugh. She realized with a jolt of panic how much she was going to miss him.

She cleared her throat to cover it up. “Were you? OK before?”

He shrugged. “I was getting there. But I’ve learned how to be OK—and I won’t lose that if the company sells.” He said it firmly, like he was convincing himself. And she wondered—could she keep it after all? Could she let him keep it?

When they finished the wine, Theo stood, wooden chair legs scraping across the floor, and she got to her feet too, following him outside, where it had finally stopped raining, and into the Coach Inn next door. They walked side by side, neither of them saying anything. Their forearms were so close—she only had to move an inch, then they’d be touching.

They reached his room first—both of them were on the ground floor. He cleared his throat. “Well, this is me.”

She nodded, though disappointment was coursing through her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back slightly on his heels.

She nodded again, her heart picking up speed in a way that felt a little like panic.

He turned, fumbled with his key to open the door. And she took a breath.

“Theo?”

He looked back at her, and she made herself hold his gaze as she spoke again.

“I wouldn’t regret anything in the morning this time. Just in case you were wondering.” Her heart was in her throat now, her body held tense. It was a risk, to put the suggestion out there, in case she got shot down. He might not even remember his words from the last time they almost went there.