She thought back to the conversation they’d had when he’d walked out of the shower the night before. He’d been talking about the time they’d met. Hadn’t he implied last night that they’d married in too much of a hurry?
Obviously he was the one who was regretting their whirlwind courtship.
Perhaps, after all, he wanted to be free to date women like Katya but was much too traditional to make that decision himself.
So he was expecting her to make it.
Why hadn’t he told her that she couldn’t leave? She felt tears prick her eyes as she turned off the heat and poured porridge into bowls for the children.
‘Mum, this isn’t the story of Goldilocks, you know.’ Katy stared at the meagre contents of her bowl. ‘And I’m not baby bear. That’s never going to keep me warm on a cold day.’
Realising that she’d only put a spoonful in the bowl, Christy gave a wan smile and filled the bowl to the top.
‘Are you all right, Mum?’
No, Christy thought, suppressing a hysterical giggle. She was far from all right.
It appeared that her marriage was well and truly over and that wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t what she’d ever wanted.
Everything had gone utterly, miserably wrong and it was mostly her fault for leaving in the first place.
It didn’t matter that she’d intended him to follow her the same day and make up.
All that mattered was that she adored him and that he didn’t seem to want her with him any more.
And every time she tried to remind herself that last night he’d been loving and caring, that over the past days he’d listened to her and treated her like a woman, nothing changed the fact that he hadn’t told her that she couldn’t leave.
And Alessandro had never, ever had problems saying what he wanted.
So if he hadn’t asked her then there was only one possible explanation.
He was hoping that she’d go back to London.
CHAPTER TEN
SHE spent Christmas Eve with the children and they went for a walk in the forest, stamping footprints into virgin snow and piercing the muffled silence with their excited squeals.
After the inevitable snowball fight, they returned to the barn wet and happy and Christy set about drying clothes and making dinner.
Would this be the last time she did this?
Would this be their last ever Christmas as a family?
She stood for a moment and looked around the kitchen, the kitchen she’d chosen so carefully. Three more days. In three more days she’d be leaving this and she’d probably never cook in this room again.
Tears stung her eyes.
‘Mum, I want to leave a chocolate roll for Santa.’ Ben was beside her, his eyes huge and shining, a pair of furry brown antlers jammed onto his head. ‘Everyone leaves mince pies and he must be really bored with it, don’t you think? I mean mince pies are great, but if you think of the population of the world, that’s a lot of pastry, isn’t it?’
Blinking back the tears, Christy smiled and reached into the cupboard for a little chocolate roll. ‘Good idea,’ she said huskily. ‘Leave him this with a little note. I’m sure he’ll be really pleased.’
‘And carrots for the reindeer.’ Ben squinted up at her, the bells on his antlers jangling. ‘Why are you crying?’
‘Me? Crying? Never.’ Her smile widened and she wondered if her face would crack with the effort. ‘I’ve been chopping onions for tea.’
‘I hate onions.’
‘They’re for Daddy’s tea,’ Christy said quickly, turning her back on him and washing her hands. ‘Go and put that cake out now, before you forget.’