“Right. Liv was there. Cutest wee thing, she is. I invited them to join us for dinner, but Blair said they’re returning home tonight. Something about wanting to spend Christmas in their house.” She shrugs as though this is a strange concept.
The strange concept is inviting your son’s ex to his house for dinner without asking him first. She’s fully aware of the emotional roller coaster that woman put me on.
Worse, despite all of that, my hopes soared for the briefest moment that I’d get to see Liv before they crashed again on the rocks. Why didn’t she stay with her dad until Christmas likethey had planned? I don’t get to ask these things, to find out the answer, and it hurts.
“That’s nice,” Maeve says, dropping a spoonful of her caramels into a glass of cold water and watching it closely. I don’t know why she’s doing that, but I assume it’s part of the process and not something she’s doing for fun. “What took you to Inverness?”
“Oh, looking at a new vehicle.”
The kitchen had already grown too hot, but this adds petrol to the flames. I can’t take it anymore. If Mum is going to ask me to buy her a new campervan, it’s not going to happen in front of any of my guests. I’m glad none of them seem to feel the tension radiating off me in waves.
“I need to bring the horses in.” I slip around the women and head straight through the boot room, stopping long enough only to stuff my feet into some wellies before letting myself outside. My breath mists the air immediately and my open skin prickles in the frigid air. I was a right eejit coming out here without my coat. I stuff my hands into my pockets and trudge across the back garden.
There’s no way I’m returning to the house. Not while I can breathe in this freedom and fresh air. My heart hammers in my chest, banging against my lungs. By the time I make it out to where Elephant and Piggie are roaming, I’m breathing like I ran all the way from the castle.
Moonlight shines over my horses, and it doesn’t take much coaxing to get them to follow me to the barn, because they know it means dinner. Piggie neighs, nipping at my shoulder, and I brush her aside. I’m so overwhelmed, I can’t manage another thing right now. Not even my playful horse, which feels unfair to her.
I stop walking and run my hand down her mane. “Sorry, lass.”
“I have a feeling you’re not talking to me.”
That American accent has become like a second voice in my head the last few days, so I wonder—very briefly—if I’m imagining it before I make out Callie’s silhouette coming my direction. “Is there something I need to apologize for?”
She holds out something that looks suspiciously like my coat. “Maybe running outside without proper winter gear? You’ll catch your death out here. If that’s a thing. Is that really a thing, or just something moms say to make us wear coats?”
“I don’t know.”
Callie drops her head to the side, the light shining in her brown eyes. She inhales, letting out a heavy breath, then holds up my coat. “Here.”
“Thank you.” I slide my arms into it and feel instant relief. It’s far too cold to be out here unprepared. “That was childish, but I was overwhelmed.”
“You don’t need to explain yourself, and you definitely don’t need to put yourself down, Gavin. You’re entitled to your emotions.”
I draw in a shuddering breath, sensing at any moment the dam will break and a flood will bury her if she isn’t careful. “You make it easy to be vulnerable.”
“You don’t have to talk to me,” she says. “I’ll leave you in peace. I just wanted to bring your coat.”
“Will you stay?” The words are out of my mouth before I consciously think how badly I want her to remain. The last thing I need is to be left alone with my thoughts. Certainly it will spiral me down a dark hole that I’m better steering clear of.
“Of course I will.”
“We should feed these two.” I rub Piggie’s neck again and nod toward the barn. “Was my mum upset when I left?”
“No. She didn’t seem bothered at all.”
“Good.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Yes. Evidently I do. This woman feels safe, and it’s been solong since I’ve had someone like that to confide in. I do have Rory, of course, but I can’t draw him away from his family now. I could never bother Rhona outside of business hours.
While my granny has always been on my side, Mum is her daughter, which has made our relationship tricky at times. She’s torn between us, and I try to respect that. Callie is heaven-sent—in more ways than one.
“You know of the complex past I’ve had with my parents. I didn’t mean to, but I found the campervan they’ve been eyeing. It’s eighty thousand pounds, Callie. If I had any hope they planned to buy something themselves, that doused it. The payments I give them biannually could never cover something so grand.”
Callie’s hands are in her pockets, her puffy coat swishing with every step she takes. “That’s a lot to expect from you.”
“To be fair, they haven’t asked. But my dad found me looking at it and said nothing. It’s hard to be in a relationship without communication. They don’t speak of things, which wouldn’t be terrible, except it means they brush everything under the rug. I can’t force them to talk to me, of course. But I live in constant fear that I’ll wake up one of these mornings and they’ll be gone for good.” Maybe that should give me a measure of peace, but no man wants to lose a relationship with his parents entirely.
