It was not forgiveness. Not yet. But it was not running either.
And to him, that was progress.
33
Kristen stood with the lake at her side and the children’s laughter drifting across the water. Her pulse fluttered at her throat, and Neil’s words hung between them, heavy and bright.
“I want this. Us. Forever.”
Part of her wanted to step into his arms and pretend that the past five years could be folded away like a torn letter. The other part remembered every tear, every night she lay awake alone, every rule he set to keep her at a distance.
“How can ye change so suddenly?” she asked quietly. “One minute ye are telling me ye daenae need a wife or children, that love is a distraction; the next, ye are riding across the Highlands, saying ye want forever.”
She did not add,I believed ye the first time. He would hear it anyway.
“I have seen men swear one thing in the heat of the moment and forget it when life gets tough. I spent half me childhood watching me faither bring flowers in the morning and drink by nightfall. I cannae live like that again, Neil. I cannae open me heart just for ye to retreat the first time duty growls at ye.”
Doubt told her it would be safer to send him away.
But hope, stubborn and quiet, would not die.
Neil listened without a word. His jaw clenched. His eyes never left her face. When she fell silent, he let out a slow breath.
“Ye are right to doubt me,” he acknowledged. “I havenae earned yer trust. Nae truly.”
That simple truth disarmed her more than a dozen vows could.
“I was blind.” He swallowed thickly. “And a coward. Me faither taught me that love makes a man weak. I watched him hurt folks and tell himself it was better that way, because he cared from a distance. I swore I would never be him, but then I did the same thing. I shut ye out and called it protection.”
His gaze dropped to the grass for a moment, then rose again. “The truth is, ye daenae make me weak, Kristen. Ye make me stronger. When ye stand beside me, I think more clearly. Whenye smile at our people, they trust me more. When ye held me hand in the dark and told me where I was, the storm didnae swallow me whole.”
He raised his hand to her cheek. He did not touch her; he asked without words.
“Ye light the corners of me life I was content to leave in shadow,” he rasped. “I didnae see it at first, but I see it now. And I daenae want to go back to the shadows.”
The raw honesty in his voice stole her breath.
The water behind him caught the light and threw it in small, steady ripples at his boots. Far off, Maggie barked at nothing in particular, and Finn shouted something about the world.
Ordinary sounds. A simple life.
Kristen wanted that. She wanted it withhim.
“I have loved folks who made me feel small,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Folks who tossed me aside when it suited them. And then ye arrived, glowering and distant, telling me what I couldnae expect from ye. I thought I hated ye for it.”
A tear spilled over, and she laughed under her breath while brushing it away with the back of her hand.
“Then ye went and saved me life. Ye let me pour out everything I felt in yer study. Ye let me shout at ye without punishing me for it. Ye loved the children when ye could have turned them away. Every time I said I was done with ye, me heart refused.”
She took a step closer. Only a breath remained between them.
“I daenae ken yet how to trust ye fully,” she said. “That will take time. Ye understand that?”
“Aye.” He nodded once. “I will wait as long as ye need.”
She searched his face for any flicker of impatience. Any sign of the old walls sliding back into place. But she saw only a tired man who had stopped lying to himself. His eyes were steady, and his mouth was set in resolve.
Her shoulders sagged, and the weight she carried shifted. It did not vanish, but it lightened enough to let the next words come out.
