WOOD POV
I was barely an hour across the country and already at my second service station. If that didn’t speak volumes, I don’t know what would have.
I’d already given myself the sensible self-talk in the car, reassuring myself I was doing the right thing by driving away.
Mae was set up comfortably with a decently festive Christmas Tree and I’d made sure her present was easily discoverable underneath.
She had everything she needed for a perfectly pleasant holiday break, and was likely eating mince pies and watching some Santa show or other on TV quite happily even as I was standing in the coffee shop queue.
In fact, the likelihood was that she’d have a more satisfying Christmas than I would.
I took my third Americano of the journey to the seating area and logged into my laptop, real
