Honey turned her mobile off as soon as she got home then went straight to bed. She crawled beneath the cool duvet, shivering with cold and sadness, and tried not to think about how warm and solid Dane’s body had felt in bed next to her.

It just wasn’t meant to be.

It couldn’t be.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing, to allow the oblivion of sleep to claim her, but it just wouldn’t come. She tossed and turned, wondering if Dane was all right and if he’d got up and gone to school as usual. Was he wondering why she’d disappeared? Was he angry or confused, sad or hurt? She hoped he was none of those things and that he’d gone off to work to spend a day educating the local children and that he would secure the job next week at interview. At least then he could make some decisions about his future and know if he’d need to move on or if he could settle in the village.

Not that Dane settling in the village would be a good thing for Honey, now. Knowing he was here every day, in Heatherlea, living his life while she lived hers would be so hard.

She pushed the covers back and sat up. Did she really need to do this? Had she acted rashly in a moment of panic? Perhaps pushing him away wasn’t necessary. They evidently cared about each other, so couldn’t she find a way to tell him the truth about her past, then see if he wanted to try to make a go of things with her?

Trying to sleep wasn’t going to work. Besides, she needed to see to the chickens, so she pulled on her clothes and trudged down the stairs. Whatever happened, the chickens needed her. When she opened the coop, they trotted out happily, oblivious to everything except the physical need for food, water and fresh air. If only life could be as simple for humans, if only she didn’t have needs and desires that went beyond food, water and shelter.

Honey could run through as many renditions of if only as she liked, but she couldn’t escape the truth.

She had some things to sort out and she knew where she needed to start.

“That’s it…” Honey walked around the village hall. “Don’t forget to breathe, Mrs Braithwaite. Yes, Mrs Hall… and elongate your spine.”

She forced herself to focus on teaching her Wednesday evening yoga session, pushing her worries about Dane from her mind. The women in her class had every right to her full attention and Honey intended to ensure that they had it.

Until the door opened and Dane walked in.

Honey’s heart pounded and she tried to swallow, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her eyes followed Dane as he walked to the mini stage at the front of the hall, dropped his rucksack then unzipped his grey hoodie and dropped it onto a chair. In his fitted blue T-shirt and jogging bottoms, he looked so big and muscular, yet so vulnerable. There was hurt and confusion etched on his face and it made Honey’s stomach clench. She had hurt this lovely man and she hated herself for it.

But he was here and that was a positive thing. If he hated her, he wouldn’t have come. It wasn’t as if it was compulsory to attend her yoga sessions, but he always did, without fail, even when his workload was heavy. When he hadn’t arrived ten minutes early as he usually did, Honey had assumed that he wasn’t coming. Yet here he was, ten minutes late, but here nonetheless.

“Dane.” She smiled as she reached his side. “Are you… all right?”

“I’m fine.” His jaw clenched and Honey decided to back off, not wanting to make him even more annoyed.

“Okay. Well we haven’t long started so you can join in when you’re ready.”

He nodded but didn’t meet her eyes, keeping his gaze fixed on a spot in the distance as if he couldn’t bear to look at her.

“Right,” she said, steeling herself then taking a deep breath. “Here we go…”

Honey encouraged class members to stretch, telling them to breathe deeply and trying to ignore the usual occurrences like Mrs Gregory farting and the muttering of innuendos from Miss Peterson. Normally, Honey would smile at the farting and the innuendos, but today her heart was heavy and nothing held the usual amusement. She gently helped eighty-seven-year-old Fred Bennett to perform some stretches on his chair. He never achieved a lot but she suspected that he attended the classes for company and that was fine with her. Yoga was about improving all aspects of health and that included the mind and heart.

She avoided looking directly at Dane, though she could see him from the corner of her eye as she walked around the hall, and it took all of her strength not to go over to him and hold him.

When the hour had passed, yoga mats had been rolled and goodbyes said, the hall emptied and Honey found herself alone with Dane. Her chest tightened and her head felt light, but she couldn’t leave before him; she had to speak to him. They weren’t children and she owed him civility at the very least.

She approached him cautiously.

“Dane?”

He kept rolling his mat.

“Dane? Can we talk?”

He stopped rolling and threw the mat to the floor making her wince.

“What about, Honey? I can’t imagine why you’d need to speak to me.”

His eyes were hard, not at all like the eyes Honey had gazed into for months, the eyes she had melted into and that had made her heart grow.

“Well…” she licked her lips “about us.”

“Us?” He frowned. “There’s an us? I woke up alone this morning after one of the best nights of my life to find you gone. You didn’t answer my calls or texts or even leave a note. How do you think I feel?”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Are you?”

She nodded.

“I feel used. Cheap. Unworthy. I thought we had a… a connection but you left after we made love and didn’t even say goodbye. Was it a mistake for you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Well, yes. Kind of. Not in that way. Oh gosh… I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Well don’t bother. I guess I know where I stand now. Goodbye, Honey.”

He left his mat on the floor, grabbed his bag then marched to the door. Honey watched him, her heart pounding out his name.

“Please don’t go.” Her voice was high with panic.

“Why not? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t walk out of here right now.”

Honey took a deep breath. The words were on the tip of her tongue, teasing her but not emerging. She tried to articulate them, to push them into the air but her voice remained trapped in her throat.

Then Dane was gone and an icy draft blew through the front door and into the hall, circling her ankles and chilling her flesh so that goosebumps rose on her skin.

“Because I have things to deal with before I can move on. Because I need you to trust me while I sort them out. And… because I think I love you,” she whispered into the emptiness as a lone tear trickled down her cheek.