Page 101 of Counting Down To You

Back to Ali’s point—yes please for a New Year’s meet up. It’s been way too long. Xx

Way too long is perhaps an understatement. I haven’t seen a couple of them since Robyn’s funeral. I reply that I’ll fill them in on “the dreamboat” another time, given that’s a conversation I need to gear up to.

I take another sip of champagne, then open a new message. To another person I haven’t seen since the funeral.

Hi Elena, I type to Robyn’s mum. It’s Ali. Not strictly necessary, as we did have each other’s numbers saved, and exchanged some messages over those few awful months when Robyn was at her worst, and immediately after her death. But it seems polite, given it’s so out of the blue. I just wanted to message to say happy Christmas, and I hope you’re doing okay. I hesitate, not sure what else to write. Then settle on, I’m thinking of you. And please know that I still think about Robyn, all the time. Ali x

I read it through again before sending it. Because, yes, Elena wasn’t a very good mother, but Robyn had wanted to forgive her. And also because I think that Robyn might have wanted Elena to know that she wasn’t alone, that someone out there who loved Robyn was thinking of her.

I’ve nearly finished my champagne when my phone lights up with another message. I’m expecting it to be a reply from Elena, or someone on the uni chat, but it’s not.

Adam: Happy Christmas Eve Lee Lee! Was great to see you in France. If you do end up back in London over Xmas or NY let me know, yeah? Xxx

Three kisses, which means he’s almost definitely drinking—he and his family go big on Christmas Eve. I snort quietly at the message. Radio silence from him since the awkward hotel encounter, then this. And I realize then that I have absolutely no desire to see him. I don’t even care if he finds out that Leo and I weren’t really dating. Yes, I was angry and had wanted the upper hand, but it all seems so irrelevant now, and I don’t think that’s just the champagne talking. I don’t really care what he thinks, one way or another, and I don’t think I’m bothered whether I ever speak to him again.

There is, however, one person I do care about. One person I do want to talk to again. Yes, we said goodbye. Yes, there are reasons not to see him again. But maybe, right now, on Christmas Eve, sipping champagne at the Ritz, I can allow myself to give in to what I want. I can allow myself to live in the moment, one more time.

I pick up my phone.

Hey, I type. If you meant it, about sticking around in London, then I’m at the Ritz right now. I’m staying for one more glass of champagne. And I’d love to see you.

I get a reply almost immediately. I’m on my way.

I smile as I set my phone down. Just for tonight, I tell myself. I’ll allow myself to give in to my feelings just for tonight. And, with that, I order another glass of champagne.

Chapter

31

I don’t have to wait long before Leo arrives. I hear his footsteps first, though I know, logically, I couldn’t have known they were his footsteps. Still, I look over to the bar entrance at exactly the right time to see him coming in, his hair damp from the rain, wearing a suit that shows off the definition of his body, a body that hides how hard it’s had to fight to still be here.

As he crosses to me, his pale green eyes dance in the candlelight. Even though I was the one to ask him here, I feel a little self-conscious.

His mouth crooks up at the corner. “Hey.”

I smile at the fact that we keep greeting each other like this. “Hey.”

He gestures around at the bar. “So is this a challenge? Or do you always spend Christmas Eve at the Ritz? Because I’m totally here for it, if so.”

I laugh. “It’s a challenge,” I confirm.

He nods thoughtfully. “And did the challenge include inviting someone along?” I know what he means. Is there a specific reason I thought to message him.

“No,” I say. “I just wanted to see you. Is that okay?”

He smiles as he sits down on the stool next to me. “It’s more than okay, Ali. Thank you for asking me.”

“Thank you for coming at short notice.” Why do I sound so bloody formal?

“Well, I thought about playing it cool, waiting an hour or so before replying.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. I probably would have lost my nerve in an hour.”

“In that case I’m glad I didn’t, either. Playing it cool’s overrated, anyway.”

My lips twitch. “My thoughts exactly.”

He orders a glass of champagne when the bartender comes over, instead of his usual whiskey. He takes a sip, then glances at me as he sets it down on the bar. “She asked me once, in group, where I thought the coolest place to go for a drink on Christmas Eve was.”