After putting a call through to Bryce and Max explaining my plan, they both decided it would be better if they spent the night away from home to truly give us time alone. When I told them about what Dr Salahan had said they hadn’t hidden their disappointment. It made my heart hurt, but they had such faith in me and our love that, despite the news, they were hopeful.

Now, as I pull on my leather trousers and Pink Floyd t-shirt and stare at my reflection, I hope that whatever brought Hudson and me together in the first place has the power to bring us together once more. Allowing myself a small smile for courage, I adjust my t-shirt, take a deep breath and head downstairs.

Hudson is waiting in the lounge. He’s wearing his tracksuit bottoms and a hoody, probably in an attempt to turn me off him. I imagine he assumes that no effort would equal no interest from me. Little does he know that’s exactly what I love to see him wear most. Maybe deep down, locked away inside of him, he knows it too. I hold onto that thought as I stride towards the kitchen.

“Hey,” I say as casually as possible, even though my heart is galloping like a thousand stallions in my chest.

“Hi,” Hudson responds, a note of interest in his voice. Good. “Nice outfit. Are we going out somewhere?”

I smile to myself and reach for a bottle of red wine from the rack. This is the outfit Hudson saw me in at Le Carnival club in Alpe D’Huez. I’m using everything I have to try and remind him why he was attracted to me in the first place, to remind him of the girl he fell in love with. It’s worth a shot.

“We can if you want. But I was just going to order in a take away,” I say, pouring two glasses of red wine. Picking them up, I take them over to where he’s sitting on the sofa. I hand him one and take a seat next to him.

“You don’t cook?” he asks.

“I do, I just prefer not to,” I shrug.

He arches his eyebrow at me. I know what he’s thinking.

“I probably wasn’t the best chalet maid, but you got fed and looked after well enough. At least, you didn’t complain at the time.”

He nods his head, choosing not to question my statement. “You like Pink Floyd then?” he asks, his green eyes trailing over my t-shirt. It isn’t just the logo he’s staring at. I feel my nipples harden. I’m braless, purposely so, using all the tools at my disposal.

“Yes. That surprised you the first time too,” I say with a slanted smile.

He cocks his head at me. “You don’t appear to be an…”

“Alternative chick? You said that as well.”

His eyebrows pull together. “I’m on a back foot here. You have an advantage over me, and I don’t like it.”

I shrug my shoulders. “So, take the advantage back,” I challenge. His eyebrows lift in surprise. He stops slouching and sits up straighter in his seat. Tapping into his need to be in control at all times, I give him a chance to take it.

“How?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at me. Behind the barely held annoyance, anger even, is lust as thick and electric as it has always been between us. Lust I can handle. Indifference, not so much. Lust brought us together the first time, and friendship, understanding, then love followed. I hope the same would happen for us now.

“You’re the smart arse, the business man, figure it out,” I say, taking a sip of wine for courage. By the way he is looking at me, I think I am going to bloody need it.

“Sex is a weapon. I use women, but this you know already,” he says, his eyes locking with mine.

“Yes and no,” I say, readying to strike again.

“Yes and no? I think I know my own mind,” he retorts sharply. There’s that anger again. Why is he so damn angry?

“Yes, you used women, used being the operative word, but you didn’t use sex as a weapon against them. No, the only person you truly hurt by fucking without a connection was yourself, Hudson. Tears might have been shed by women who thought they knew you, but they were superficial. You were the one who was shattered inside each time you fucked without love.”

Hudson stands, knocking the table with his knee in his bid to escape my words.

“Fuck this shit. I can’t do this,” he says, anger pushing away everything else. But his anger isn’t directed solely at me, it’s directed at the truth of himself. I can see him war with the truth of my words and how they cut him deep, and the need to stay and listen to what other secrets I know about him. Perhaps I am being cruel, perhaps this is unfair. To have lost a piece of yourself, only to know others have access to it, must be hard to deal with.

Ultimately though, whatever way you look at it, I am doing this for his benefit. He needs to see that there is so much more to him, so much more he can give if he just allows himself to let me in.

I stand with him. “You promised me one night, Hudson. Are you going to back out on your agreement now?”

“This isn’t what I agreed to.”

“You thought we would fuck and that would be it? Believe me I want to, but there’s something else that is more important to me.”

“What’s that,” he asks. His chest is heaving. Looking at him so vulnerable, I wonder whether those butterflies have turned into a flock of crazed birds. I know my chest is filled with them, they taunt me, pecking at my happiness with their unforgiving beaks.

“Your happiness. Your heart. Our happiness as a family. That is why I am fighting for all of us. This isn’t just about you. It’s about Bryce and Max too. When we all came together something magical happened. Four lost souls brought together by fate, serendipity. I don’t know. Whatever the hell it was, our love together began to heal us. No matter what Bryce and Max say, I know that if you don’t come back, then this won’t last.” My heart feels like a goddamn mountain of rock filling my chest at the confession. I didn’t want to believe it, but I know that eventually love wouldn’t be enough to keep us all together. “I love you all, and I will not let you go without a goddamn fight.” Now I am the one who is breathing heavily.

“I can’t give you my happiness, because I don’t feel it. I can’t give you my heart, because I’ve never given it to anyone. And family? Max and Bryce are my family, that’s what I know.” He turns to walk away, but I grab him again. That light touch is like a physical blow, and he stumbles away from me. He stops, shaking with more than just rage. He shakes with fear, not fear of me, but what I represent. Love is frightening when you have come from a place that never had it.

“NO!” he shouts, rounding on me.

I am immovable. I do not flinch. “I thought you were tougher than this? Scratch that. I know you are fucking tougher than this, Hudson. Your mother took something precious from you every time she laid a hand on you, beat you. She took what everyone else takes for granted, your ability to give and receive love, but you got it back, with me, with us as a family. Don’t fucking walk away from that.” I am seething with anger, frustration, with my own damn fear. I hadn’t expected it to get so heated, so soon. This is not how I’d played out our evening together.

Hudson breathes heavily through his nose, fists clenched, body rigid, fighting an internal battle that wages war inside. The emotion of this conversation is like all the months we’ve spent together wrapped up in one moment. But I know he’s strong enough, he just has to take a step, one step towards me and our future. I can’t go to him, this has to be his decision.

We glare at each other for what seems like eternity, until eventually Hudson rocks on his bare feet. His right foot lifts, and for a wonderful moment happiness fills my heart in the belief that he is willing to take a chance. Then my blood turns to acid, and the frantic birds inside my ribcage turn to stone and drop to the pit of my stomach as Hudson spins on his feet and walks away.