Christmas and New Year's are set to fly by in a whirl of parties. There have been several events already that have demanded my presence, so I have had to dress up and play the dutiful wife. Christmas Day itself, however, is set to be relatively quiet, a rare day when it is just the two of us. I had thought that Alex would resume his business trip to the States, but he insisted he had too much work to do in London. Secretly, I think he wanted to keep an eye on me.
I wake on Christmas Day, surprised to see snowflakes falling outside my window. I pull on my thick purple chenille robe and slippers and make my way quietly down to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. I think the surprise is written all over my face when I walk in to find Alex flipping pancakes, with bacon sizzling in a pan on the side. "Morning. Happy Christmas," I say softly.
