His eyes flicker over to me as he indicates onto a side road, his fingers tapping the steering wheel impatiently.
“With words, funnily enough.”
I want to die. I am positively useless around this man.
“Oh.”
“I wasn’t aware there were other options.” Dylan smirks again, and this time I shake my head, staring out of the window, so he doesn’t see my smile.
“This place hasn’t changed at all,” I muse, my heart warming at the sight of the little sweet shop that’s still standing in the same place it’s always been, the hairdresser that I’m sure isn’t even qualified, still labelled ‘Deedee's.’ Maybe they’ve got new owners now. Still, I’ll never forget my mum marching me in for a ‘trim’ only for me to leave with half a fringe.
I wasn’t the only one, though. Everyone had that haircut. There weren't many other choices as far as hairdressing went back then.
“Yeah, some things stay the same,” Dylan agrees, slowing the car as he nods ahead. “What number is she?”
“Forty-two,” I say, my chest tightening. My anxiety is back, and yet I’m returning to normality, to my original plans.
Honestly, some things makezerosense.
Dylan stops outside the little row of terraced houses and slides his phone out of his pocket, handing it to me.
“Put your number in there, for Rob,” he says gruffly, glancing back at the road.
“Oh, yes.”
My voice sounds false and bright, too bright. But I enter my phone number, and hand it back to him. Our fingers brush, and he looks at me, and for a second, my heart thuds in my chest with anticipation.
“Don’t let David ruin you for anyone else, Merry. You’re lovely and deserve better than him. Have a lovely Christmas.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I swallow down the lump in my throat, nodding as I slide my fingers around the cool metal of the door handle.
“Thank you, you too,” I manage to croak out before glancing down at his clothes. “I’ll get these back to you.”
“No bother. They’re pretty much yours now anyway.” He grins, and I swear my heart aches. “Plus, you’ll need proper winter attire here.”
“Okay.”
I try not to hesitate, but it’s like I want him to say something else.
Anything.
But he doesn’t, so I push open the door, trying not to blink. The tears would probably freeze halfway down my cheeks anyway, I realise, as I let the car door close behind me.
I don’t look back; instead, I hurry down the icy pathway to Cassie’s house, praying she’s in. I knock on the door, and thundering footsteps greet me before the door is thrown open.
“Aunt Merry! Yay!” Victoria cries out. Harry follows close behind, and then Cassie appears.
“Welcome back, my love,” Cassie says, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into the warmth. “Did Dylan drop you off?”
I nod.
She peers behind me before closing the door, shrugging. “He must’ve gone.”
I smile at my niece and nephew, crouching down so they can attack me with their love. They smell of sweets and laundry detergent, the best combination.
“You smell like a boy,” Victoria declares, wrinkling her nose up at me.
“Haha, I bet I do.”
Cassie watches me as the kids pull me into the front room, desperate to show off their Christmas tree. The warmth of the house, combined with the love from my family, is enough to choke me up, but something about seeing that Christmas tree just finishes me off.
“Mum! Aunt Merry is crying!” Victoria yells with panic as I wipe my eyes.
“Happy tears,” I whisper, kissing her forehead. “That’s all.”
But as my eyes meet my sister’s, she tilts her head in the way only a big sister can, a sad look in her eyes.
“I’m okay,” I mouth, and she nods in a way that tells me she doesn’t believe me for a second.
