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on a more permanent basis.’

      From what he’d told her, he’d hopped from city to city, country to country as the whim took him.

      She was on her first bite of fish when he asked, ‘How long have you lived in Cheltenham?’

      It took her a second to chew and swallow. ‘A year. I went to live with my mum for a while after...well, after you left.’

      ‘Suzanne told me you didn’t stay in the flat for long.’

      Annabelle had missed their cleaning lady. ‘Did you think I would?’

      ‘I didn’t really know what you would do. I went back after my first trip, almost a year later, and you were gone.’

      ‘I just couldn’t...stay.’

      ‘Neither could I.’ He paused. ‘Even if you hadn’t asked me to go, I would have. Things were never going to change.’

      This was the most she’d ever been able to drag out of him. And she wasn’t even having to drag. Back then they would fight, and then Max would clam up for days on end, his tight jaw attesting to the fact that he was holding his emotions at bay with difficulty.

      He’d once told her that his parents had been the same way with him—their anger had translated into silence. He’d struggled with breaking those old patterns their entire marriage. But in the last six months of it, those habits had come back with a vengeance. If she’d tried to probe or make things right between them—with the offer of physical intimacy—he’d always seemed to have some meeting or suddenly had a shift at the hospital. She’d finally got the message: he didn’t want to be with her, except when absolutely necessary for the in-vitro procedures. And then, after her last miscarriage, he was done trying for a baby.

      Actually, Max had been done. Full stop. He’d left their relationship long before he’d actually walked out of the door.

      She took another sip of her water to moisten her mouth as she got ready to tackle the most difficult subject of all.

      ‘You haven’t signed the papers.’

      There was a pause.

      ‘No. I’ve been overseas on and off.’ He shrugged. ‘After a while, I forgot about them.’

      That stung, but she tried not to let it. ‘Doesn’t it make going out on dates awkward?’

      ‘I’ve been busy. No time—or inclination—to jump back into those waters.’

      His answer made Annabelle cringe. ‘I’m sorry if I’m the reason for that.’

      ‘I just haven’t seen many happy marriages.’

      ‘My parents are happy.’

      He smiled at that. ‘They are the exception to the rule. How are they?’

      ‘They’re fine. So are my sisters. Jessica had another boy while you were gone—his name is Nate.’ She didn’t want to delve into the fact that her parents’ and siblings’ relationships had all seemed to work out just swimmingly. Except for hers.

      ‘That’s wonderful. I’m happy for them.’

      Popping a chip into her mouth, she tried not to think about how different their childhoods had been. Max’s parents had seemed unhappy to be tied down with a child. They’d evidently loved to travel, and he had cramped their style.

      Annabelle’s home, on the other hand, had been filled with love and laughter, and when her parents had travelled—on long road trips, mostly—their kids had gone with them. She had wonderful memories of those adventures.

      She’d hoped she and Max could have the same type of relationship. Instead, she’d become so focused on a single aspect of what constituted a family that she’d ignored the other parts.

      Had she been so needy back then that she’d damaged Max somehow?

      Well, hadn’t their breakup damaged her?

      Yes, but not in the way she’d expected. Annabelle had grown thicker skin over the past three years. Before, it seemed as if her whole life had been about Max and their quest to have a family. When that had begun breaking down and she’d sensed a lack of support on Max’s side to continue, she’d become more and more withdrawn. She could see now how she’d withheld love whenever Max hadn’t done exactly what she’d wanted. Just as his parents had.

      She regretted that more than anything.

      ‘So what do you want to do about it?’

      He set his glass down. ‘About what?’

      Did she need to spell it out? ‘About the paperwork. Maybe this is the reason we’ve been thrown back together. To tie up loose ends.’

      A smile tilted up one side of his mouth. ‘So I’m a loose end, now, am I?’

      Nothing about Max was loose. He’d always been lean and fit, but now there was a firmness to him that spoke of muscle. Like the biceps that just peeked out from beneath the polo shirt he’d changed into before leaving the hospital.

      They’d checked on Baby Hope before taking off. She was still holding her own, against all odds. But if a donor heart was not found soon...

      She shrugged off the thought. ‘You’re not a loose end. But maybe I’m one of yours. You could be happy, Max. Find the right woman, and—’

      ‘You’re not a loose end, either.’ His hand covered hers, an index finger coaxing hers to curl around it. The sensation was unbearably intimate and so like times past that she was helpless not to respond to the request. Their fingers twined. Tightened. The same heat from the exam room sloshed up her neck and into her face.

      ‘Are you done with your meal?’

      Her eyes widened. ‘Yes. Why?’

      ‘Would you mind coming with me for a minute?’ He threw some notes onto the table, and, without even waiting for the bill, got to his feet.

      She swallowed hard, wondering if he’d had enough of this conversation. Maybe he even had his signed divorce papers back in his office. If so, she hoped she wouldn’t burst into tears when he presented her with them.

      But he’d just told her she wasn’t a loose end. And he’d held her hand in a way that had been so familiar it had sent a sting of fear through her heart.

      So she picked up her coat and followed him through the pub, weaving through tables and people alike. When their waitress made to stop them, Max murmured something to her. She nodded and disappeared back among the tables of customers.

      At the door, Max helped her into her coat and they went out into the dark night. It was chilly, but it wasn’t actually as cold as she expected. When Max kept on walking, rather than stopping to let her know why they’d left the restaurant, she remained by his side. She had no idea where they were going, but right now she didn’t care.

      A taxi stopped at the kerb. ‘You looking for a fare?’

      ‘I think we’re okay.’ Max glanced at her as if to confirm his words. She gave a quick nod, and the cab driver pulled away in search of another customer. The bar was probably a perfect spot to do that, actually, since anyone who’d had a few too many drinks would need a way to get safely back to their flat. Putting her hands in her pockets, she waited for him to tell her why he’d brought her out here. Maybe something was wrong with him physically. Could that be why he’d come home from the Sudan?

      A few minutes later, she couldn’t take not knowing. ‘Is everything okay?’

      ‘It’s still there, isn’t it, despite everything?’

      She frowned, moving under one of the street lamps along the edge of a park. ‘What is?’

      ‘That old spark.’

      She’d felt that spark the second she’d laid eyes on him all those years

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