After that, Nina threw Bart and Maisie outside telling them to go get dessert or something while she put her kids to bed. 

“They’re too excited to sleep with you around,” she explained dismissively.

Bart took Maisie down to a village pub where he ordered cherries on chocolate brownies served in martini glasses. They each had one. The atmosphere around them was quite charming. There were fairy lights inside the pub, a fire burning in the fireplace near them, a couple kissing with wild abandon to their right, and bells playing in the background. 

Bart couldn’t wait for a moment to come where he could pull Maisie into his arms and kiss her. He no longer waited until the end of the night, but the moment didn’t come. The timing was always off.

As they left the restaurant, he swung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. He was about to say something to get her heart racing when suddenly someone said, “Maisie? Is that you?”

She turned her head and her contented expression fell. As Bart followed her gaze, he saw the person who had interrupted them.

It was her fiance. His name was Chalmers. Bart recognized his ratlike features from Instagram.

Maisie stepped forward and in doing so, stepped away from Bart. He couldn’t let her get away and came up beside her. 

Maisie fumbled her greeting. “So charming to see you.”

“What are you doing here?” Chalmers snapped. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Maisie rolled her eyes and snapped her tongue. “Here it comes,” she muttered under her breath, not loud enough for Chalmers to hear but loud enough for Bart to hear. Louder she said, “Bart, this is Chalmers. Chalmers, this is Bart. My ex and my current meet at last.”

“Your current?” Chalmers questioned, like he barely realized that Maisie had a man’s arm around her. 

Bart’s left arm was around Maisie, so he extended his free hand and offered it to Chalmers. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Chalmers bit back like he hardly had the energy to say it. “If you’re her new man, why are you letting her come to a place like this? Don’t you know how dangerous a ski resort is for a person like her?”

Bart was so perplexed by what the other man said that he didn’t have the sense to be reproved by Chalmers’ threatening demeanor. 

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking. You look well too,” Maisie proceeded with the conversation like Chalmers had said something normal with his rat face instead of what he had actually said. “How about if we just part ways here for tonight?”

As she spoke, the last three words were smacked with blood as her nose had started bleeding again. 

Chalmers and Bart both dug into their pockets for something to blot her nose with, and Chalmers won when Bart only had his wallet in his pocket and not a travel-sized tissue pack.

“Is this your first date?” the other man asked Bart snarkily as Maisie took it and dabbed at her nose. 

“What makes you think this is our first date?” Bart asked, getting defensive.

“Sorry, man,” Chalmers said, relaxing further. “I jumped down your throat for not taking better care of her, but you can’t be very close to her if you don’t have tissue in your pocket. Get some. You’ll need it.” He started backing away. “And get her indoors. You don’t want her to slip and fall.”

All of that made Bart want to commit second-degree murder. How dare he say that Bart wasn’t ready to take care of her? How dare he act like Bart wasn’t close to Maisie? How dare he!

“This isn’t our first date. She hasn’t had many bloody noses,” Bart said like he was biting ice.

Chalmers was turning to go, but he was looking at Bart like he pitied him, like he envied him, and like he couldn’t wait to get away from the both of them. “Welp, tell you what. If you marry her, make sure to invite me to the wedding.”

“You don’t think it could possibly last?” Bart hissed as much as a gentleman could hiss. “Sour grapes?”

Chalmers pointed at Maisie to show Bart what he was missing and turned away to rejoin his group.

Bart looked down to see what Chalmers was pointing at. Maisie had bled through the tissue and there was blood seeping between her fingers.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, but firmly.