When we pulled into my driveway, the house looked welcoming, lights glowing in the windows. But unlike Theresa’s home, which vibrated with lived-in energy, mine still had that slightly sterile, organized feel Mrs. Kowalski maintained with iron discipline.
“Everybody, wash up!” I called out as we spilled through the front door. “Mrs. Kowalski will have our heads if we track mud into the dining room.”
While the thundering herd moved toward the downstairs bathroom, creating a bottleneck of elbows and laughter, I caught Alec’s eye. He was hanging back, watching with a guarded expression.
“Alec, hold on a moment,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder before he could follow the others. “Walk with me?”
He hesitated, glancing at the bathroom door where Rome was currently trying to explain the concept of a 'soap fight' to Eoin, then nodded.
We walked through the kitchen and out the back door into the quiet of the garden. The air was cool, smelling of cut grass and jasmine.
“Everything okay?” Alec asked, kicking at a loose stone on the patio. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his posture defensive.
“Everything is good,” I said. “But I wanted to talk to you. Just us.”
Alec looked at me sideways. “Is this about the school trip? Because I told you, I don’t want to go.”
“It’s not about school.” I leaned against the railing, watching him. He looked so much like his mother in this light it made my chest ache. “I talked to Austin earlier. About something important.”
Alec stopped kicking the stone. He went very still. “About Theresa?”
I nodded. “About asking her to marry me.”
Alec didn’t say anything. He walked over to the tire swing I’d hung last week, and sat on it, but didn’t push off. He just sat there, staring at the ground, his face unreadable. I waited, giving him the space I knew he needed.
“For real?” he asked finally, his voice quiet. “Like... forever?”
“For real,” I confirmed. “Marriage. All of us becoming one family. Living together.”
Alec looked up then, and his eyes were fierce. “Does that mean we stay here? In California? We’re not going back to Scotland?”
This was the hurdle I’d been dreading. The final break from the life he’d known.
“It does,” I said gently. “We might need a bigger house—this one is too small for ten of us—but we’d stay here. We’re building a life here, Alec.”
I braced myself for the anger. For the accusations about forgetting his mother, about abandoning our home.
But Alec just let out a long breath, his shoulders dropping about three inches.
“Okay,” he said.
I blinked. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” He pushed the swing slightly, rocking back and forth. “I mean... I miss home. I miss my friends. But...” He looked toward the house, where the sound of laughter was drifting out the open window. “It’s better here.”
“Better how?”
Alec struggled for the words. “It’s not so... quiet. At the castle, it was just us and the ghosts. And Mrs. Kowalski making sure everything was perfect so we wouldn’t be sad. But here...” He gestured toward the house. “Theresa isn’t like that. Her house is messy. And loud. And nobody gets mad if you spill juice.”
He looked me in the eye, his expression earnest. “And you’re happier, Da. You haven’t yelled about a schedule in weeks. You laugh more. Like you did before Mum...”
He trailed off, but he didn’t look away.
“I feel happier,” I admitted, my throat tight. “She brings the light back in.”
Alec nodded, as if this confirmed his own data. “Then yeah. Do it. Marry her.”
Relief washed over me, profound and dizzying. I walked over to the swing and put a hand on the rope above his head. “What about your mum? You know this doesn’t mean we forget her. Ever.”
