Christmas at the Second Chance Chocolate Shop. Kellie Hailes

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СКАЧАТЬ reached for a piece of parchment paper, dipped it into the melted chocolate, pulled it out and watched it harden. Perfect.

      ‘Are you listening to me, Serena? You don’t have to do whatever it is you’re doing. You can just pack up and leave.’

      ‘Actually, Ritchie…’ Serena switched off the electric melting pot, then picked up the chopping board and swept the pistachios, dried cherries and marshmallows into the chocolate and began to fold them together in a figure eight motion. ‘I’m enjoying what I’m doing. It’s what I want to do. So I won’t be packing up and leaving.’

      Ritchie reached out and touched her shoulder, gently, but she could feel the power in his long fingers, strong from hours of playing guitar. ‘I don’t understand, Serena. You can’t tell me you haven’t missed me? What we shared? What we share? It’s a once in a lifetime kind of love.’

      Serena shrugged him off, hating the way her chest tightened, her own body accusing her of being harsh. Mean. But she had to be. It was the only way to survive this encounter. Tell him no. Tell him they were over. Tell him to go. Then continue to move on. That was the plan. She had to stick with it.

      She picked up the heavy pan, and took a moment to relish how easy it was to lift – so unlike when she’d first started and lifting half the amount of melted chocolate had left her biceps quivering – then poured the contents into a lined tin she’d prepared earlier. Putting the empty pan to the side she pushed the mixture to the edges of the tin and returned her attention to her soon to be officially, as soon as she got around to it, ex-husband.

      ‘Perhaps it was. But it’s not now. My life with you is done. It isn’t what I want any more. Being a rock star’s wife wasn’t making me happy. I’m sorry, Ritchie, and please believe me when I say that. But we aren’t going to work. We haven’t worked for a long time.’

      ‘Nope. Sorry. Can’t.’ Ritchie skirted the kitchen island until he was standing opposite her. ‘We made promises, Serena. Vows. Remember those? To stand strong together. To bend with the winds but never to snap. To roll with the tides but never let them drown us. To never let the hottest sun sear our love. To never allow the frost to freeze each other out. But you did exactly that, Serena. You froze me out, big time.’

      ‘Really, Ritchie? Is that how things played out for you? Is that how you see it?’ She dragged her eyes away from the rocky road and met Ritchie’s gaze. Her chest constricted even further as she saw hurt dulling his eyes. The confident sparkle doused. ‘You froze me out years ago. Not the other way around. We were only happy at the beginning because we were riding the fame rollercoaster together. It was the adrenaline that kept us rolling, not anything deep, anything meaningful.’

      Ritchie’s hands clasped the edge of the counter. A vein throbbed at his temple. ‘Well, I’m so sorry our relationship was so shallow for you. But I didn’t see you complaining about the private jets, the endless five-star hotels, the gourmet food and drink, the people willing to bend over backwards to make us happy.’

      Serena swiped the back of her hand over her brow, refusing to let him get a rise out of her. She wasn’t going to be the crazy harridan, the emotional one, the fire to his ice. ‘And I didn’t. But it wasn’t enough to keep me with you.’

      ‘Well what would have been enough?’ The words sounded reasonable, but she could see that Ritchie was teetering on the knife-edge between appearing calm and shutting down altogether. Time away from her hadn’t changed him, but then Serena suspected nothing and no one could.

      She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. This was a different version of the same conversation they’d been having for years. Her trying to show Ritchie she needed him to be more than a rock star. To be more than a man who craved adoration the way she craved independence.

      How ironic was it that she’d managed to flee one smothering all-encompassing relationship only to fly into another?

      She opened her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘What would have been enough was you doing the one thing you refused to do, no matter how many times I asked. I just wanted you to stop keeping me at an arm’s length, Ritchie. To stop treating me like a favoured groupie. Because that’s how it felt. I was your wife, we were supposed to be a team, but you never really let me in. You glossed over things with me the way you would in interviews. We were together for ten years and I never felt I knew the real you.’

      Ritchie held his hands out to Serena, palms open, fingers splayed. ‘But you did, sweet thing. I gave more to you than anyone else.’

      Serena didn’t doubt the sincerity of his words. She knew he’d shown hints of vulnerability with her, that he’d never dared to show anyone else. Moments of uncertainty, covered up with a joke. Seconds of sadness, pushed aside when she’d asked what made his lips turn towards the floor. Hell, his being here, even with all the bravado and confidence, was proof of that.

      ‘I know you did, Ritchie, but it wasn’t enough. There was always an invisible wall that I couldn’t knock down, couldn’t bust through. And I got tired of trying.’

      ‘So you ran away.’ Ritchie dropped his hands to his side. The fleeting desolation in his eyes had been replaced by his customary ice-cold hardness.

      ‘I left. It’s not the same as running away. There was a note.’ Serena grabbed the pan, walked it over to the kitchen sink, and placed it in the warm, soapy water. Picking up a scrubbing brush, she began to clean off the chocolate hardening on its surface, glad to have a reason to turn away from Ritchie. If he saw a hint of the guilt she carried for leaving the way she did he’d take it to mean she wish she’d stayed.

      ‘A note that said bugger all. “I’m sorry. Don’t follow me” isn’t a note, it’s an insult to all that we shared.’

      ‘And you coming here when I asked you not to is what?’ The nylon bristles of the brush flattened as she took her frustration out on the stainless steel.

      ‘I was hoping it would show you I’m serious about our marriage. About us. Even if you aren’t.’

      Serena dropped the brush with a splash and spun round to face Ritchie, her attempt at calmness evaporating. ‘I was! I took care of us for years. I took care of you. Who stopped you from sliding into a drug and alcohol haze? Your career was about to be over. You were showing up late to concerts, doing a half-arsed job. You were late with your next album. Had it not been for me you’d have been done. A has-been. At least I had the courtesy to leave you while you were on top. When you wouldn’t need me.’ She braced herself against the bench, gripped the edge, refusing to break eye contact. She would not be railroaded into doing anything she didn’t want to do. She’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

      Ritchie ran his hand through his wavy deep-brown hair, and his chest heaved up and down in frustration. ‘So you don’t think I… what? Talked enough with you? Didn’t let you have your say? You think I’m not the kind of man who could let you have control? Take the lead? And because of that you don’t want to be part of my life anymore. Fine.’

      Serena blinked, hard and fast. Was she hearing things? Was Ritchie giving up? ‘Good. We’re on the same page. Finally.’

      Ritchie nodded. ‘We are. I now know what I have to do. I have to prove to you that I can change. That I can be different. I have to show you I can be the man you need me to be. So I’m going to stay and prove you wrong. My duffel bag’s in the rental. I’ll go grab it. I’m guessing your bedroom is upstairs?’ He jerked his head towards the door that led to the living quarters above the shop.

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