Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
The last time I’d been this torn in two was seven years ago, lying on a forest floor in an angsty mess.
I couldn’t go back there. I couldn’t endure it. The uncertainty would taint our relationship.
Taking a shuddering breath, I released it before replying, “First, I’m sorry for walking out on you two weeks ago without a word. It was cowardly, and I would have been hurt if you’d done that to me.”
Lewis gave me a nod. “Thank you for saying that. Apology accepted.”
“But, Lewis …” I held up a hand as he took a step toward me. He halted. “It was a mistake. A drunken mistake. I’m sorry if I led you on, or made you feel like it was more than it was, but I don’t want to be with you.” My hands shook so much, I fisted them at my sides. “So if you came back here for me, like you said, you should really take time to think about that. Because you should only stay in Ardnoch if it’s what you want. Not for me. I’m no longer part of the equation.”
I couldn’t read his expression. The sun hit behind his head, casting his face in shadow so all I could see were his features and not the look in his eyes. He watched me, though. For a good few seconds. Then he nodded. Calm. Accepting. Strangely not full of fight for someone who’d upended his entire life to follow me to the Highlands.
He pulled his helmet on without another word and got back on the bike.
Confused, disappointed, hurt, and feeling like a brat for feeling any of those things, I put the helmet back on and gingerly returned to my seat behind him.
As we rode into the village, I tried not to worry about the villagers who witnessed us together on his bike. Instead, I enjoyed the ride, knowing it was probably my last with Lewis Adair.
Fifteen
CALLIE
The day after Lewis dropped his bombshell, Mum and I arrived home from the bakery at the same time Harry returned from school. The end of term was quickly approaching, and after the summer holidays, Harry and his friends would be going into first year at high school. He was twelve in July. And I realized that I’d missed a huge chunk of his childhood.
It was never clearer than when we pulled into the driveway as he walked up the stoop.
“Look how tall he is.” I sighed, sad that he’d grown up while I was gone and that it had affected my relationship with him.
When Harry was little, he could be deliberately annoying, like any wee brother, but because of our age gap, we mostly had a good relationship. He was just as likely to come running to me for a hug and reassurance as he was to Mum or Dad.
“Your dad says Harry has to get paired up with the older teens at jujitsu.”
I nodded, because that made sense. While I’d gotten into tae kwon do with Lewis when we were kids, Harry had decided he wanted to learn jujitsu because that’s the martial art Dad studied. He now led a class in Thurso. And if Dad did it, Harry wanted to do it. While he had Mum’s coloring—blond hair, brown eyes—he looked like Dad. When we were younger, there was a part of me that envied Harry. And I worried that Dad would love him more than he loved me because Harry was his blood, and I wasn’t. But it was like Dad knew and when Harry came along, he made certain that I never felt left out or like I was loved less.
If anything, in a slightly sexist way he didn’t intend, he was more protective of me than he was of Harry. Yet, I knew that came from Dad’s own trauma. He didn’t mean anything by it. His sister was killed, and he couldn’t save her, and now Dad was overprotective of the women in his life. I could understand that.
Harry turned and gave us a wave before heading into the house.
“I’d say that’s an improvement, but he was probably waving at you.”
“What are you talking about?” Mum asked, unclipping her belt.
I gave her a look. “Harry is avoiding me.”
Mum scoffed. “Callie, he’s a preteen boy whose only interests are martial arts, video games, and soccer.”
“Football,” I corrected her, getting out of the car. “You’ve been here fifteen years, so that’s inexcusable.”
She chuckled at my teasing as she followed me out. “Fine, fine, football. My point remains. Your brother isn’t avoiding you—he’s just being a boy.”
I harrumphed at that because I wasn’t so sure.
Inside, we found Harry at the dining table with his backpack open. Our parents had a rule that our homework had to be completed as soon as we got home, so it was done and out of the way. It seemed Dad was still at work. He tended to do early-morning to early-afternoon shifts at Ardnoch Castle where he worked security, so I could only guess he was running late or on overtime.