‘Maybe, I can help you with that. Make a wish, and I’ll see if I can make it happen for you.’ ‘Okay,’ she pauses, and I think I hear her take a drink. ‘I wish I was married to you instead of that asshole working in Dubai. Can you make that happen?’ My heart splits open, for both of us, but in true Rian style, I use humour to hide the hurt. ‘Are you proposing to me, Rebekka? Because that’s what it sounded like.’ ‘I think I am, you know.’ She hiccups. ‘There’s just one teeny, tiny, insignificant—and believe me, I mean insignificant—problem.’ She pauses for effect. ‘I’m already married to
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