The Mistletoe Pact by Jo Lovett

Thirty-Eight

Now – November 2022

Dan

He was so ashamed of himself. What was wrong with him? How could he have said that?

Dan reached the end of Evie’s road and turned round. Maybe he should go back. Apologise properly. Explain that the reason he’d lost it was that he’d gone there to tell her he loved her, and then when it had become obvious that she was out for the evening he’d started torturing himself with the worry that she’d be out with someone else. And she had been. And he knew that Matthew was wrong for her.

But she was right. It was none of his business what she did.

Except he wanted it to be his business.

He started walking back towards her house and then stopped.

Better if he phoned her first maybe.

She didn’t answer. He tried again. Still no answer.

Maybe that was for the best. He was hurting so much right now it felt like proof that loving someone was, basically, horrible.

He turned back round and started walking towards the station.

* * *

Saturday, a week later, Dan rolled his eyes at the ringing sound and didn’t budge from the sofa. That was the third time in about three minutes that his doorbell had gone. You’d think whoever it was would have realised by now that he wasn’t going to answer it. If it was a delivery they could leave it downstairs in the restaurant like they normally did and he could pick it up later. He lifted the TV remote and increased the volume.

His phone pinged. It was Max. Apparently he was outside and he was coming in.

‘Afternoon,’ Max said about ten seconds later.

‘I should never have given you a key,’ Dan said.

‘How are you doing?’ Max asked, sitting down in Dan’s armchair.

‘I’m fine. Just having some downtime.’ Downtime thinking about how monumentally he’d cocked things up with Evie. He’d been trying very hard not to think about her and had slightly been succeeding until this morning when Sasha had mentioned Evie and Melting and Christmas in a text.

‘You don’t look fine.’

‘I’m completely fine.’

‘Bro. It’s three o’clock in the afternoon and you’re in your underpants watching The Simpsons.’

‘I like The Simpsons.’ In moderation. He’d definitely overdosed on them this afternoon.

‘How’s Evie?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I think you need to speak to her.’

Dan really shouldn’t have given Max a key. What was even the point when he lived on the other side of London?

‘I don’t need to speak to her.’ He increased the volume of The Simpsons even more. ‘Nothing else to say.’

‘Ever told her you love her?’

Dan put his hands over his face and sighed loudly.

‘Remember when you didn’t want to talk to me?’ Max said. ‘Did it help to talk?’

‘Oh my God,’ Dan said. ‘So many questions. That was different.’

‘How was it different?’

‘Well, for a start, you didn’t hate me.’

‘She probably doesn’t hate you. Do you hate her?’

‘No.’ Dan suddenly really did want to talk. ‘Kind of still angry with her because she got back together with Matthew so soon after we split up. But, as she pointed out, that’s incredibly hypocritical and just wrong and it’s entirely up to her what she does because we aren’t together. Basically, I behaved really badly and I’m not sure she’d be interested in talking to me.’

‘I don’t think you have anything to lose if you tell her you love her. You have to be brave and fight for what you want sometimes.’

‘I don’t even know if I do want her,’ Dan said. Max stared at him. ‘I’m scared of getting hurt,’ he said.

‘What, because it would make you deeply miserable if you split up?’ Max was still staring at him, like he was stupid.

‘Yes.’

‘And what are you now? Deeply happy? You idiot. Take happiness where you can find it.’ Max lunged for the remote and turned the TV off. ‘Come on. Get some trousers on. Let’s go out.’

‘Seriously,’ Dan grumbled. It would probably be nice to go for a walk or something, though. He hadn’t exactly been enjoying himself sitting here. It felt like there might be something in what Max had said. Maybe he’d think about that later. ‘I’m picking Katie up in an hour.’

‘I’ll come with you. If that’s alright?’

* * *

When Dan, Katie and Max got back to Dan’s flat, Max sang some nursery rhymes – painfully tunelessly, although Katie loved the singing – before standing up to leave.

‘Think about what I said,’ he told Dan before picking up a beaming Katie and plonking a big kiss on her cheek. ‘See you soon, Kitty-Kate. Tell your daddy to think about what I said.’

It was starting to feel like Max was right and Dan should talk to Evie. When, though? And how? He could ask her if she wanted to meet up over Christmas. And she might not want to. Or he might mess up and not say things right. And, also, now he wanted to talk to her, he wanted to do it immediately.

Maybe an old-fashioned letter would be the way to go. But, no, a letter would be too slow. He’d send her an email. This evening. Maybe both an email and a letter.