you believed her?’
‘Yes,’ he said coldly. ‘It’s not unusual for one of my mother’s parties to continue for an entire weekend. You know that.’
‘Okay,’ she said, and lifted the curls off her forehead with a shaky hand. ‘Okay, fine.’ Her hand dropped. ‘Then I’ll take a boat home.’
‘It’s too late to get one tonight.’
‘I know,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘I’ll take one tomorrow morning.’
‘There’s a storm warning for tomorrow. Starting tonight, actually.’
She looked beyond the glass walls, saw the dark clouds rolling in. Her stomach tumbled. ‘That’s fine.’
‘It’ll be a rough storm, Rosa. It’s anticipated to last until tomorrow evening at least. Do you still want to take a boat?’
‘Yes.’
He laughed softly. ‘You’re so determined to get away from me you’ll take an almost two-hour boat ride in a storm? Even though you get sick when the water is calm?’
She hesitated. ‘I’ll be fine.’
His half-smile mocked her. ‘I’m sure you will be.’
He was right, she thought, and hated herself for admitting it. Hated him for being right.
Except that what she felt in that moment was anything but hate.
Confusion, yes. How had this happened? Had Liana really orchestrated this on purpose?
Guilt, of course. She’d walked away from him. From their relationship. She hadn’t even said goodbye.
Anger, absolutely. She hated feeling trapped. It reminded her of her childhood. Of being caught in her mother’s world.
But hate? No, she thought, her eyes settling on Aaron again. There was no hate.
‘Why are you so calm?’
‘I’m not,’ he replied in a tone that gave no indication that he wasn’t. ‘But I know my mother. And I know this scheme is probably well-thought-out. Much like the first time we met. Or don’t you remember?’ His voice was soft, urgent. ‘Have you run away from the memories too, Rosa?’
She didn’t reply. There was no reply she could give. She couldn’t tell him that she hadn’t been running away from him, not really, but saving him. From the anxiety, the stress, the worry of being with someone who was terrified of losing the health of their mind, their body.
Rosa had spent her life looking after someone like that. She knew the anxiety, the stress, the worry of it. She knew the guilt when the fear became a reality.
She’d saved him, she thought again. She’d saved him from going through what she’d gone through with her mother’s hypochondria. She’d saved him from having to take care of another person. From having it break him.
The moment she’d felt that lump in her breast, she’d known she couldn’t put him through all of that. So she’d walked away. Had tried to move on.
But the memories wouldn’t let her. No, the memories were always, always there.
* * *
‘Great,’ Rosa said loudly. ‘No one’s here.’
But that didn’t make sense. Her mother had told her there was a Christmas ball for cancer patients that night. Had asked Rosa to be her partner at the ball.
Of course, Rosa had agreed. Her father wasn’t in Cape Town, though she doubted he would have agreed to accompany her mother even if he had been. Irritation bristled over her, but she forced her attention to the matter at hand. She’d spent enough of her time being annoyed at her father.
The room was decorated as if there was supposed to be a ball. A large crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling, white draping flowing from it to different spots on the walls. It lit the space with soft light, brightened only by the small Christmas trees in each corner of the room that had been adorned with twinkling lights.
There was only one table at the end of the room, standing next to the largest Christmas tree Rosa had ever seen, with champagne, canapés and desserts spread across it.
‘Am I early?’ Rosa wondered out loud again.
But, like the first time, she got no response. Throwing her hands up, she turned to try and find someone who could explain what was happening. As she took a step towards the door, it opened and her breathing did something strange when a man joined her in the room.
‘Who are you?’ she blurted out.
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Aaron Spencer. Who are you?’
‘Rosa Lang.’ She swallowed. How had the air around her suddenly become so charged? ‘I’m, um, here for the Christmas ball...’
‘Me too.’ His eyes lazily scanned the room. ‘Either we’re really early or—’
‘Or our mothers have decided to play a game on us,’ Rosa said, his name suddenly registering with her.
He was Liana Spencer’s son. Rosa had only met the woman a few times during her mother’s group chemotherapy sessions but she’d been charmed. Not only by the woman’s energy—which she envied greatly—but because she’d done an amazing job at keeping Rosa’s mother’s energy up, despite the fact that she was going through chemo too.
Liana had been vocal about wanting Rosa to meet her son, and Violet had tried to get Rosa to agree to it just as passionately. The dress Liana had sent her—along with the make-up, hair and car she’d arranged—began to make more sense. And seeing Aaron now had Rosa regretting that she’d resisted an introduction for such a long time...
‘I wouldn’t put it past my mother,’ Aaron replied darkly. It sent a shiver down her spine. But she didn’t know if that was because of what he’d said or the fact that she felt inexplicably drawn to him. Even though he didn’t seem quite as enamoured.
‘This does seem like an excessive prank though.’
‘My mother’s speciality.’
‘Really?’ She tilted her head and, for once, let herself lean into what she wanted to do, refusing to give the doubt that followed her around constantly any footing. ‘How about we have a glass of champagne and you can tell me all about it?’
She wasn’t sure how long he studied her. But when his lips curved into a smile—when his expression turned from reserved into one she couldn’t describe but felt, deep in her stomach—she knew she would have waited an eternity for it. And thought that—just maybe—he was drawn to her too...
* * *
‘I remember,’ Rosa said softly. ‘It was a hospital Christmas ball. Or so we thought. Our mothers told us they wanted us to go with them. That they’d meet us there because they wanted to have dinner
