Dinner was perfect. Not only was the food incredible, the company was lovely. Henry had made a Christmas playlist and Bing Crosby crooned as we ate. Even Henry and Anika seemed okay. Henry was right though; something was wrong with Anika. At first I’d thought she was just hungover from her work party last night, but it seemed to be something more than that. If she was hungover, she found her appetite all right. Everyone did.

The silence was punctuated by the appreciative hums as everyone ate. Henry’s cooking usually had this effect. There was even the occasional ‘this is so good’ and ‘oh, my God’ that I was used to. I was often guilty of it myself.

All the food Henry ever made, every damn bite, was an orchestra of flavours. Sweet and salty, savoury, playing every instrument, with the perfect arrangement of textures, smooth and crunchy. A gastronomical symphony.

I didn’t know how he did it, but every time he planned a meal, it was a freakin’ masterpiece. And an Australian Christmas was always a mix of hot and cold meats, and an arrangement of salads and veggie dishes. But Henry far exceeded any expectation. And he also knew damn well that my stomach led straight to my heart. Not that I only loved him for his culinary skills… Of course I’d still love him if he never cooked again. But this Christmas Eve dinner was worth every week of careful planning and every moment of a stressed-out, to-do-list-crazy Henry.

As I looked at him now, sitting at the table with our closest friends, while everyone ate his food, talking and laughing, he just about beamed. And his hand on my thigh squeezed every now and then, making me smile.

I wasn’t kidding when I asked him every time I slid that ring on his finger to marry me. The rush I felt, the way his eyes locked on mine and the way his breath hitched, would never get old.

We’d agreed on an early dinner, being Christmas Eve and all, and by eight o’clock Henry had served his fresh berry pavlova for dessert and the night was winding down. Talk was quiet around the table, in a gentle kind of way. “What are your plans for tomorrow?” Melinda asked me.

“Lunch with Henry’s family, dinner with mine.” I nodded toward the behemoth Christmas tree and the far-too-many exquisitely wrapped presents underneath it. “Henry’s outdone himself there too. Our nieces and nephews will be spoiled rotten.”

Henry gave me a warm smile. “I love it when you call them ours.”

They became our nieces and nephews, instead of my, the second he agreed to marry me. “Because they are.”

Anika excused herself to go to the bathroom and Sean sipped his beer, expression unreadable.

Oblivious to any Anika drama, Em nodded toward the six-foot-tall wrapped present. “Is that it?”

I grinned. “Yep.”

Henry sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t encourage her.” Then he looked around the table at the confused faces and Em’s smiling one. She knew the story, of course. “My mother has… an infatuation with George Clooney. Reed bought her a life-sized cardboard cut-out.”

I laughed. “Henry made me wrap it. It took a whole roll of wrapping paper.”

Henry raised one eyebrow. “He put it in the hall and I’d almost have a coronary every time I went to the bathroom. Then he put it behind our bedroom door. I almost died.”

I snorted. “He did this Barry Gibb scream with Jackie Chan kung-fu moves that made me laugh for an hour.”

“And sleep on the couch,” he replied. “Laughing at me while I almost died resulted in you sleeping on the couch.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You threatened to make me sleep on the couch. When you could eventually speak.”

He sniffed and raised his chin. “I couldn’t speak because I almost died, because a six-foot George Clooney jumped out from behind our bedroom door and tried to kill me.”

I really did try not to smile and laugh, but failed. Putting my arm around his shoulder, I pulled him close and kissed his temple. “I am sorry about that, darling. But yes, George needed to be wrapped after that.”

Henry sighed dramatically. “I shudder to think what my mother will do to him. I’m sure cardboard cut-outs have rights.” Everyone laughed and then he tilted his head, and stared at Moo. “Okay, so I have to ask… Moo. Where does that come from?”

Moo blinked and deadpanned. “Cows?”

I tried not to laugh, but couldn’t hold it in. My whole body shook and I was a pretty big guy. It meant it was kind of hard to hide. Henry turned to face me, raised one eyebrow in that slightly scary way that made other guys back the fuck up.

I stopped laughing.

Moo didn’t. She found it hilarious. “My name’s Monique,” she explained. “My mum called me Monny-moo, that got shortened to Moo. I’ve been called Moo since I was four years old.”

“Oh, good,” Henry said. “I was trying to imagine bovine mammary glands bras that didn’t look like a rubber glove and I was coming up blank. And slightly horrified.”

There was silence and wide-eyed stares until Anika laughed, walking back to her seat. I chuckled and put my arm around Henry’s shoulder.

After twenty more minutes of laughs and discussions on what everyone was doing tomorrow, Em and Christian were the first to call it a night. “Can we offer to help clean up?” Em asked, beginning to clear away plates.

Henry stared at her like she’d sprouted a second head. “I will be eternally offended if you pick up one more plate.”

“Henry,” Em said. “You’ve done all this. It’s the least we can do.”

“It’s my absolute pleasure to do this for you. It’s what I do.” Henry looked at me. “Tell them, honey, that this is what I do.”

I grinned at them. “This is what he does. Please leave it.”

“But” she started to protest.

“But you’re a guest in our house,” Henry said. “The only people I let clean up are those who can beat me in a Kylie Minogue dance-off. And believe me, many have tried.”

“Many have failed,” Anika added fondly. “It’s never pretty.”

Melinda added, “I thought it’d be more of a Les Mis sing-off.”

Henry sighed. “It might have been, but schnapps is forbidden forever. Isn’t that right, Anika?”

She was back to looking green. “Don’t even mention it.”

After rounds of goodbyes and Merry Christmases, everyone left. Except Anika and Sean. They sat at the table with what looked like no intention of going anywhere. Though Anika looked a little nervous again and I knew whatever had been on her mind earlier, or the reason they were late, was about to be aired.

Anika picked up a stack of plates and took them to the kitchen. Henry frowned, but picked up a few trays and followed her through the kitchen door.

I turned to Sean. “Everything okay?”

He looked at me for a long moment before he nodded. “Yeah. But she and Henry need to talk.”

Well, shit. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It is, but…” Sean sighed. “Maybe we should start to clean up and let them chat.”

“Good idea.”

We collected plates, bowls, cutlery and glasses and carried them into the kitchen, where Henry was looking at Anika’s shirt. Then he looked at her, confused. “I don’t get it.”

Truth be told, I’d noticed her shirt earlier, but just thought I’d missed the joke. Her shirt had a big ‘Ctrl+C’ on it.

Then I noticed Sean’s shirt at the same time Henry did.

‘Ctrl+C.’

Anika frowned and put her hand on Henry’s arm. “Can we talk?”

Henry nodded woodenly but he looked petrified. Anika took his arm and led him to the living room. “You too, Reed,” she said. “This involves you too.”

Okay, now my curiosity, and concern, was officially piqued.

Annika made Henry sit with her on the sofa, and, not wanting to be too far from him, I perched on the arm of the sofa beside him. When Anika wrung her hands together and looked like she might very well vomit, Henry started to hyperventilate.

“Are you breaking up with me?” His voice was strangely quiet. I put my hand on his shoulder, then started to rub his back.

Anika let out some weird laugh, but didn’t answer him. Instead, she reached into her handbag and pulled out a small wrapped Christmas gift. “Open this.” Sean sat on the coffee table and put his hand on her knee.

Henry’s hand shook as he pulled at the ribbon then fumbled with the paper. I’d never seen him so nervous. I gave his shoulder a squeeze so he would know that I was right beside him, because it felt like he was unwrapping a live grenade.

Inside was what looked like material of some kind. Henry held it up, and Anika burst into tears.