‘Oh, Megan!’ they chorused. Their pity was genuine and that somehow made the situation much worse. She wished they weren’t being nice to her, it made her feel even sadder. How could she admit to hating them all just then, when they were being sympathetic?
‘I’ve got something that’ll last much longer than Yule log.’ Pam winked at Megan and left the room, returning with the box the cake had come in. ‘Look, Megan! It’s got a lovely picture on it of holly and berries and it still smells of chocolate.’ Pam smiled as she handed it to her.
Megan had gathered the box to her chest and sniffed its interior. It was torture, only reminding her of what she’d missed out on. Funny she should think of that now.
Meg walked inside the warm, busy deli and inhaled the heady mixture of food, spices and coffee. It was noisy: people shouted greetings and laughed, the till chimed, and Dean Martin crooned ‘White Christmas’ through the speakers on the wall. In front of