LITMIR.BIZ

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      There was no way she was going to be able to get out of it. And actually she didn’t want to. This was a family tradition that she’d participated in every year except for the last one, when she’d just been getting situated at Teddy’s and had been too busy with all the changes to be able to take a train home to London. With Nate’s diagnosis, though, she had to go. ‘I’ll be there, Mum, but I probably won’t be able to stay for dinner.’

      ‘Of course not. Tell Max I’m looking forward to seeing him.’

      Okay. Hadn’t she just explained that he might not want to come?

      She would invite him. And then let him decide what he wanted to do. And if he agreed to go? Well, she’d have to decide how to tell him that her family wasn’t privy to one small detail of their relationship: that not only had she asked him to leave, but she’d also asked him for a divorce. And the only thing lacking to make that happen...was Max’s signature on a piece of paper.

      * * *

      ‘You what?’

      Sitting in front of Annabelle’s mum and dad’s house, Max wasn’t sure what on earth had possessed him to say yes to this crazy side trip. Because he was suddenly having second thoughts.

      Especially now.

      ‘You didn’t tell them we’re divorcing?’ The words tasted bitter as he said them, but how could she have neglected to tell her parents that their marriage was over, and that it had been her choice?

      Surely they’d realised, when he’d never come home...

      ‘There just never seemed to be a good time to mention it. Someone was always being born. And then my aunt Meredith passed away a year and a half ago. My dad retired six months after that. It’s just been—’

      ‘Life as usual in the Brookes’ household.’ He remembered well how frenetic and chaotic things got, with lots of laughter and some tears. It had taken him a while to get used to the noise—and there was a lot of it—but the love they had for each other had won him over. Especially when they had drawn him into the fold as if he’d always been a part of their close-knit group. It was what he’d always wanted, but never had. He’d been in heaven. While it lasted.

      ‘Please don’t be angry. I’ll tell them eventually. Probably not tonight, since it’s Christmas time, and with Nate’s illness...’

      ‘It’s okay. Maybe it’s easier this way. They did know we weren’t living together any more.’

      ‘They knew we’d separated, yes, of course. I left our flat and came home before moving to the Cotswolds.’

      ‘Yes, the flat...’ He almost laughed. Well, he guessed they were even, then, because there was something he hadn’t told her either. That he hadn’t sold the flat once she’d moved out of it, even though his monthly cleaning lady had called him to let him know Annabelle was moving home and that she’d said he could do what he wished to with the flat. Those words had hit him right in the gut. Somehow he’d never been able to picture her moving out of the place they’d turned into a home. He’d assumed he would sign the place over to her once the paperwork was finalised. But then she’d moved out. And the paperwork had never been signed.

      Why was that?

      ‘What about it?’ Annabelle turned to him, her discomfiture turning to curiosity.

      ‘We still have it, actually.’

      Her head cocked. ‘Still have it?’

      ‘I never got around to selling it.’

      Her indrawn breath was sharp inside the space of his small sports car. ‘But why?’

      That was a question he wasn’t going to examine too closely right now. ‘I was overseas on and off and it got pushed to a back burner. As time went on, well, it just never happened.’

      ‘Who’s living there?’

      ‘No one. I never sublet it. Suzanne cleans it once a month, just like always. When repairs are needed, her husband comes over and does them.’ He shrugged. ‘I halfway thought maybe I’d return to London at some point.’

      Except every time he’d got close to thinking about his home city, he somehow hadn’t been able to bring himself to come back and visit. Instead, he’d landed in several different cities in between his stints with Doctors Without Borders.

      Annabelle smiled and it lit up the inside of the car. ‘I’m glad. I loved that place.’

      ‘So did I.’ Well, they were going to look awfully out of place at a tree-decorating party with their fancy clothes on. But she’d seemed so uncomfortable when she’d relayed her mother’s request that he hadn’t wanted to make her feel even worse—or have to go back to her mum and tell her that he’d refused to take part. That would have been churlish of him. At least now he knew why the invitation had been extended. If they’d been divorced, Max was pretty sure he’d have been persona non grata in this particular family, even if he hadn’t been the one to initiate it.

      Climbing out of the car, he went around to Annabelle’s side and opened it for her. Out she stepped, a vision in red. Until she tried to move to the side so he could close the door and tripped over the hem of her gown, careening sideways. He grabbed her around the waist, his fingers sliding across the bare skin of her back as he did so.

      Her momentum kept her moving and her arms went around his neck in an effort to regain her footing. ‘Oh! Max, I’m so sorry...’

      Just then the front door to the house opened, and people poured out of the opening, catching them tangled together.

      Not good.

      Because it didn’t look as if he’d just been saving her from a fall. It looked as if they were having a private moment.

      Not hardly.

      Annabelle saw them at the same time as he did and quickly pulled back. So fast that she almost flung herself off balance all over again. He kept hold of her for a second or two longer to make sure she had her footing. Then they were surrounded by her family, and Annabelle was hugging various adults and squatting down to squeeze little ones of all sizes. He couldn’t prevent a smile. This was the Annabelle he remembered, uncaring of whether or not her dress got dusty. The people she loved always came first.

      Just as he once had.

      He’d forgotten that in all of the unhappy moments that had passed between them. These had been good times. Happy times. And...he missed them.

      George Brookes came around and extended his hand. ‘Good to see you, Maxwell.’ His booming voice and formal use of his name was just like old times as well. There wasn’t a hint of recrimination on the man’s face. Or in his attitude. Just a father welcoming his son-in-law for a typical visit.

      Max squeezed his hand, reaching over to give him a man’s quick embrace, then gave himself over to greeting the family he’d once been a part of.

      Bittersweet. He shouldn’t have come. And yet he was very glad he had.

      Jessica came up to hug him. He held her shoulders and looked into her face. ‘How are you and Walter holding up?’

      Her chin wobbled precariously, but she didn’t start crying. ‘We’re doing better now that you and Annie are home.’

      Home.

      Yes, he’d once considered this the home his childhood abode never was. And the Brookeses had been the family he no longer had. Despite his own parents’ faults, he suddenly missed them. Regretted never once visiting their graves.

      Once he’d lost the right to be a part of Annabelle’s family, the children of Africa had become his family. And they had loved more freely and with more joy than anything he’d ever seen. They’d taught him a lot about unconditional love.

      Something he’d never really given to anyone. Even Anna. He’d always held

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