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“Damn” she said as she knelt to collect them. He was suddenly beside her, kneeling, collecting, and offering them to her. As their hands touched, she felt electricity flash between them. She stood up, blushing madly and unable to meet his eyes. “Megan.” He cleared his throat. “Megan, I...well I…err, Megan.”She stole a glance at him. “Yes, Andrew?”“Megan, look here. I just was going to say Merry Christmas. And. and...”“Yes, Andrew?”“It’s just that …Megan …I’m staying in England for Christmas and the New Year. You know, I never did get to celebrate Hogmanay as you do over here. Would you find the time to have a meal with me? No strings. Just for you to be my guest and my friend. Please?” Thank god he’d remembered to say ‘please’ he thought to himself – these Brits liked the courtesies of language. He better not foul up now.Her heart leapt. “Andrew, if I ask Mum and Dad will you have Christmas lunch with us? And you could join us for New Year’s Eve.”Andrew took a deep breath which Megan. "I don't know," she said. "Dreams..."He knew the dreams.She had never been an outgoing person, but as college wore on she gained some measure of confidence. They were close, quick friends, but she had a boyfriend. It ended after she refused to have sex with him, and he forced her. She had come home in tears and he had thought his heart would break—from pain, from grief, from anger. But the crisis flung them together. In several months would be their fourth wedding anniversary.She was in therapy, which was either the height of irony or the perfect place for a woman who had graduated with a degree in psychology; he was starting to pick up some of the details of it himself, and supplemented her sessions with what advice he could offer, and his love for her. But the spectre of the disaster that brought them together, though past and gone, still hung over everything they did."I just want it to be simple again," she whispered, pained. "It hasn't been for so long."Too, he knew that feeling..
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