Humbug
answer.
    “He doesn’t mean to let me down,” Freddy said at last. “And it’s not as if I’m waiting on my own for him”—she paused, then added—“I mean, I would never make plans just for the two of us—not these days.”
    My stomach sank.
    Freddy might not have entirely lost faith in me yet—but she was beginning to. I felt the horrible momentous truth of that like a shower of ice water.
    My best friend…
    Suddenly, I didn’t know what to do with myself. The only thing I did know was that I couldn’t face any of the people sitting round that table. More than anything in the world, I needed to leave.
    Levering myself away from the wall, I hurried off, leaving Ben and Freddy and the rest of them behind as I blundered my way through the rabbit warren of rooms back to the main bar area.
    What kind of a friend lets you down over and over like that?
    Haven’t you noticed that no one comes to ask you for anything if they can possibly help it?
    I shoved through the crowd, head down. I felt wrecked . It was crazy how torn apart I was. So what if some fucking retail worker thought I was dick? He was a dick, by the sound of him. So what if Ben wouldn’t have me back if I was covered in diamonds? So what if my best friend was spending her night out with a group of people who plainly regarded me with the same degree of enthusiasm most people reserved for dog excrement? I didn’t care. I didn’t. They could all fuck off, they could all fuck right off.
    “Quin?”
    The voice was very familiar, the hand that caught my upper arm as I went to barrel past, strong and firm. I turned my head.
    Rob.
    The last time I’d seen him he’d been furious with me. Now, he was looking at me with an expression of vague concern on his stupidly handsome face, brows furrowed and dark eyes soft.
    “Are you okay, Quin?”
    For a long moment, I just stared at him.
    “I—”
    I stopped. Swallowed. His frown deepened and he stepped a little closer. He loosened his grip on my arm but left his hand there.
    “What’s wrong?” he said softly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
    I cleared my throat. “I was just leaving,” I said, and my voice cracked a little. “I have to get out of here.”
    “You should sit down,” Rob said. “You look like you’re about to keel over.”
    It occurred to me that he probably wasn’t alone and I glanced past him. Sure enough there were three other guys standing behind him, all holding beers. They were watching us curiously. One caught my eye, then quickly looked away.
    I returned my gaze to Rob. “I’m okay.” I took a deep breath, then added, “I, um—I should really go.”
    Did he look disappointed? If he did, it was just for a second.
    “Okay,” he said, dropping his hand from my arm. “I suppose I’ll see you later.”
    My feet wouldn’t move though. It felt wrong to go without saying something more. I tried to smile, though it felt like a pretty pathetic effort in all honesty.
    “Listen, I’m, uh, sorry about earlier,” I mumbled. I cleared my throat, and added, “All of it, I mean. Not just today.”
    Rob nodded, his expression grave. “Okay. Thanks.”
    “Okay,” I echoed. “So I’ll just, um—” I gestured with my thumb over my shoulder, feeling like a giant idiot. Feeling colour flooding my cheeks.
    Fuck.
    I turned away, then stopped again and looked back.
    “So, um, have a great Christmas,” I added.
    He smiled wanly. “You too.”
    He sounded sad somehow, and as I walked away, I couldn’t help thinking that his words were some kind of goodbye.
    The doorman swung the front door open for me as I approached, and I nodded my thanks on my way out.
    I paused for a second on the step. It was bloody freezing tonight. I hadn’t noticed earlier, when I’d been all fired up about getting here, but now, as I watched my breath unfurl from my mouth in a long white plume, I felt the deep chill of winter in my bones. Zipping up my thin bomber jacket, I huddled my

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