She had no real idea about how the next few days would go. She and Malcolm had texted a little bit on Christmas Day, but then not again until yesterday. She’d even worried that the plan to have her stay on in London was off, until she’d gotten that rather curt text from him that he’d meet her in the lobby of her hotel at noon. She’d wanted to ask if she was invited to stay with him, but it felt strange to ask that over a text, and his demeanor this afternoon had been pretty chilly so far. She’d packed her suitcase before coming downstairs this morning but had lost her nerve and had left it, all packed, in her hotel room.

She couldn’t fight back the sigh this time. She’d thought she was going to have sex tonight! She’d looked forward to it! But Malcolm had barely touched her so far, so that seemed less and less likely by the moment.

“Where did you and Maddie go in your two days in London?” Malcolm asked after they’d gotten in the car.

Oh, thank God, something to talk about.

“Want to see?” She pulled out her phone and narrated some of the pictures she and Maddie had taken over the past few days: their walk along the Thames; their trip to Liberty department store; their dinner out; their visit to the British Museum; their selfie outside of Buckingham Palace; their fancy tea.

“We went to this really fun place for tea, so colorful and creative—see? Look how cute it is. But the food was great, too: there were cucumber sandwiches and smoked salmon sandwiches and these incredible curry chicken sandwiches, and oh, the egg salad sandwiches were the best I’ve ever had. The pastries were so pretty it was almost a shame to eat them, but the scones weren’t as good as Julia’s.”

They’d really fit a lot into their two days in London—they’d treated themselves to blowouts, which gave them lots of time for a good hairdresser’s chair gossip; they’d done a lot of shopping, for themselves and for presents for the family; and they’d just had time to relax together. She and Maddie hadn’t had this much one-on-one time in years. Maybe once she had a handle on the new job, and felt like she could take an actual vacation, they could go somewhere again, just the two of them.

But who knew what Maddie’s life would be like then? Would she have the time for another vacation with her mom? Would her job be too busy for that? Given all the attention she’d gotten from her work with the Duchess, that was a possibility. Or would she be married? Or have kids? The way everything with Theo was going, that could all easily happen. Vivian would love it if any or all of those things came true for Maddie. But the thought that this may have been their last solo trip together made tears spring to her eyes.

She forced herself to shake that melancholy off and concentrate on telling Malcolm the story of their whirlwind trip. But after a few minutes, she realized Malcolm had hardly responded at all. Was he just being polite when he’d asked her what they’d done? She moved away from him and dropped her phone back into her purse.

“Sorry. You probably didn’t want to know in that much detail. Or with that many visuals.”

He leaned away from her, too.

“No, that was fine. You and your daughter take a lot of pictures together.”

Was that a criticism? Was he making fun of her penchant for taking selfies with Maddie? She didn’t used to do that, but since Maddie was so into the Instagram thing, she always made Vivian take selfies with her whenever they went somewhere together. At first, Vivian had been really self-conscious about it. But then Maddie had taught her how to look good in a selfie—Chin up! Picture from above! Smile with your eyes!—and she’d gotten into it. Now she found it fun to have a record of all of the places she and Maddie had gone together, whether it was London or a beach day or just a happy hour on a random night when they were both free. She was suddenly annoyed with Malcolm for criticizing her relationship with her daughter.

“We do take a lot of pictures together,” she said. “We like them.”

Why did things feel so awkward between her and Malcolm today? Was it that she hadn’t seen him in days, and she’d forgotten what she’d liked about him? Or was this a disaster in the making? She needed to do what she always advised other people to do and take a few deep breaths and reframe her attitude.

“How was your Christmas?” she asked him. “Did you have a good time at your sister’s?” She suddenly remembered something. “Oh, what was your nephew’s big news?”

He shrugged and took a minute to answer.

“Oh, just some good news about his painting. He’s more excited about it than anyone else, which is often the case for teenagers, I’ve learned.”

Okay, that conversational gambit hadn’t succeeded in her goal to improve their vibe today. Fine, she’d let him take the lead.

The day didn’t get much better. They drove down to the river and took a boat ride down the Thames—she took a lot of pictures, but after what Malcolm had said about her pictures with Maddie, she felt too shy to take any of him. Plus, it was freezing cold on that boat. Afterward, they stopped for tea, and they were a little more relaxed with each other, but when she made a reference to Julia’s scones on Christmas Day, he froze up again.

From there, they went to Westminster Abbey, which she was excited to see; she was even more excited when the priest at the door smiled at Malcolm and waved them in past the long line of people waiting to get inside. But the whole time they walked through the huge, historic, gorgeous church, he barely spoke to her. For a while, she commented to him about the architecture, and the beauty of the church, and the facts she learned on the tour, but his responses were so brief it made her feel like he didn’t want to be there. At one point, they sat together silently and stared up at the altar. She looked at his unsmiling profile and tried to figure out what was wrong. Was he bored of playing tour guide? Or did he regret asking her to stay? Was that what this was about?

She sighed as they walked out of the Abbey. This wasn’t why she was in thirty-two-degree London and not on her way to sixty-two-degree California. What happened to all of their fun banter and laughter? Why did Malcolm seem like he was on a forced march of sightseeing instead of a relaxed romantic visit, which is what she thought this was? And for the love of God, why hadn’t he seemed to even think about kissing her all day?

She never should have stayed. Why had she listened to her daughter?

Malcolm had completely forgotten he’d told Vivian that Miles had big news to share. When she’d brought it up, he’d said the first thing he could think of and changed the subject. He didn’t want to ruin their day and tell her the whole long Miles story. He didn’t want to get into their fight, or his subsequent fight with Sarah, and how angry and hurt he’d been about Miles’s parting shots at him. He just wanted to relax and have fun with Vivian and not think about his pain-in-the-ass nephew.

Unfortunately, that was impossible. Every time he tried to relax, he thought of something he should have said to Miles, or a way he could have handled the whole situation better, or felt a wave of fury at Miles for throwing his life away like this, or got angry again with Sarah for not telling him in advance what Miles’s big news was, so he’d be prepared for it. Or, when he managed to forget about his family and turn his attention to the bright, lovely woman sitting across from him, she brought up Christmas Day, and it made all of his anger—at Miles, at Sarah, at himself—resurface.