18

The restaurant is packed, but our reservation is set each night because the package the kids booked is all-inclusive.

If I had my druthers I would have stayed tucked up by the fire in my new fleecy pyjamas with a glass of red wine. I was all peopled out after the flight. But Chris was hungry, and determined to see me in the dress he’d bought me.

He’d handed it to me with a flourish earlier tonight, along with lacy panties, a matching bra, and an expensive-looking box containing very high heels to complement the ensemble.

To say I’d been delighted, but embarrassed, was an understatement.

I smile now, self-consciously, as we enter the room. Surely anyone could see that we make an odd couple.

“Chris, you can let go of my hand now. I’m not going to slip on ice in here.”

“Can’t be too careful,” he murmurs, looking down at me, “those heels are dangerously high — and I like holding your hand, Merri.”

I smile and shake my head. I like holding his hand too. His are large, a little calloused from all the work he’s been doing around the house, and completely envelope mine. His warm, firm grip makes me feel safe, and although I don’t want to think it, because I know it’s never true no matter how long you’ve been with someone — secure.

As we’re shown to our table Chris pulls out my chair for me.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look, tonight?” He murmurs into my ear.

His breath against my neck sends shivers down my spine and makes my stomach clench.

“Only a dozen times.”

“I’m going to keep saying it until you believe it,” he smiles, sitting opposite me and staring into my eyes across the candle flickering in the centre of the table.

“Thank you again for the dress,” I shake my head at him. “You shouldn’t have.”

“It was your money,” he smirks.

“Yes,” I laugh quietly.

“You deserve pretty things, Merri, and a great deal more besides, even though you don’t accept that.”

I bite my lip and look down at the menu. He always says the sweetest things, but he’s right; most of the compliments he gives I distrust or dismiss. Not because he’s ever given me any reason to feel this way, but because deep down inside, that’s just how I feel.

‘But not tonight. Tonight I feel beautiful in this dress.’

“You chose well,” I murmur, not looking up. “Red is one of my favourite colours, and the cut is flattering.”

“And it sparkles.”

“Yes,” I laugh quietly, “it sparkles.”

“Like you, Merri. When you allow yourself.”

I look up and realise he hasn’t taken his eyes off me. His expression is warm, and there’s a depth to his intense gaze tonight that I haven’t seen before. I jump, withdrawing my foot quickly as he stretches out his leg and his foot brushes mine.

“Are you, ah, ready to order?” I stammer slightly, reaching for the glass of water before me.

He continues to give me his undivided attention, his expression knowing, as though he’s fully aware of exactly what effect he’s having on me right now.

“I am. And I think you know what I want.”

I clear my throat and try to change the subject. I feel like something’s changed between us. I don’t know if it’s the new location, or the fact we could share a bed, but there’s some kind of supercharged feeling that I’m having a hard time ignoring. It’s a feeling I’ve discounted for a while, but it’s been building, and if I’m honest it’s one I don’t think I want to ignore any longer. But at the same time, I’m terrified of it.

“Ah, I know you’re a vegetarian, but did you know they serve baby polar bear here? Spit roasted. I’m told it’s fabulous.”

“Bullshit,” he laughs.

And just like that, we’re back to normal, and I feel like I can breathe again.