Abigail Gordon - Swallowbrook's Winter Bride

His jaw was set tightly. ‘Why don’t you come right out with it and tell me that I’m not forgiven for what I said at the airport that day?’ And have regretted ever since.

This was laying it on the line with a vengeance, she thought, but was in no mood to bring her innermost feelings out into the open. She’d had a disastrous marriage since then and was older and wiser in many ways.

‘What you said long ago is in the past. I never give it a thought. We’ve both moved on after all,’ she said flatly. With a sudden weakening of her resolve, she added, ‘So why don’t we just get on with living next door to each other, working side by side at the practice, and leave it at that?’

The line of his jaw was still tight, the glint still in his eyes, but his voice was easy enough as he said, ‘Fine by me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Libby.’ As she got to her feet he said, ‘Thanks for tidying the kitchen. I’ll do the same for you one day if I’m ever invited across your threshold.’

Having no intention of taking him up on that comment, she gave a half-smile and, reaching out for the door handle, said, ‘I hope that Toby is as happy at school tomorrow as he’s been today.’ She stepped out into the gathering dark. ‘Goodnight, Nathan.’

‘Goodnight to you too,’ he said as he stood in the open doorway and watched her walk quickly down his drive and up her own.

When he heard her door click to behind her he went back inside and wondered if him joining the practice would cause less tension or more between the two of them.

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