Her lips curve into a smirk. “Flattery will get you everywhere, darling.”
The music ends too soon, and applause ripples through the square. Annabel steps back, her hand slipping from mine. The absence is immediate, like the sudden loss of warmth. Before I can say anything, Jonathan reappears, his presence cutting through the moment like a knife.
He’s holding two cups of cider, one of which he hands to Annabel. His eyes flicker to me, his smile tight. “Enjoying yourself, Calum?”
“Immensely,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Annabel takes a sip of cider, her gaze darting between us. The tension is palpable, electric. She thrives on it—I can see it in the way her eyes shine, the way her lips twitch as if suppressing a laugh.
“Shall we?” Jonathan says, his hand resting on the small of her back, steering her away from me.
She glances over her shoulder, her smile coy. “Don’t be a stranger, Calum.”
I retreat to the edge of the square, watching as Jonathan and Annabel weave through the crowd. He’s speaking to her, his expression tight, but she doesn’t seem to be listening. Her gaze flits from face to face, restless, searching.
It doesn’t take long for Jonathan to lose his composure. They stop near the bonfire, and though the flames distort their features, I can see the tension in his posture, the frustration in the way he gestures.
Annabel tilts her head, her body language casual, almost dismissive. I move closer, staying in the shadows, the murmur of their conversation just within reach.
“You’re playing games,” Jonathan says, his voice low but sharp.
Annabel laughs, the sound light and airy. “I’m always playing games, darling. You knew that when you met me.”
“This isn’t funny, Annabel. You pull Calum into this—into us—and what? Expect me to just stand here and watch?”
Her smile fades, her eyes narrowing. “Into us? Don’t flatter yourself, Jonathan. There is no ‘us.’ There never was.”
His hand twitches, as if resisting the urge to reach for her.
“You and Calum both want me, but neither of you trulyunderstands me,” she says, her voice cutting through the night like glass.
Jonathan flinches, but she doesn’t stop. “You think you can pin me down, define me by your terms. But I’m not yours. I’m not his. I’m not anyone’s.”
The words hang in the air, a challenge and a warning. Jonathan stares at her, his expression a mix of anger and hurt. She turns away, walking toward the bonfire, the flames casting her shadow long and distorted.
I stay rooted in place, the weight of her words pressing down on me. She’s right, of course. Annabel has always been an enigma, a puzzle with missing pieces. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting her, from trying to solve her, even if it destroys me in the process.
The festival continues around me, but it feels distant, surreal. The music, the laughter, the glow of the lanterns—it’s all a backdrop to the storm brewing inside me.
And Annabel is the eye of that storm, calm and chaotic all at once.
I know I’ll go to her again. I always do.
And I always will.
Chapter Eight
Calum
The sea air is thick tonight, salt and brine clawing at the windows of Holiday House. It shouldn’t be this quiet. The storms that usually pound Ravensreach Point this time of year have been replaced by an unsettling calm. No howling wind, no crashing waves. Just stillness. Except for the sound of waves that somehow seem to echo inside the cottage—soft, rhythmic, and impossibly close.
I shake the thought loose. The sound is in my head, a phantom noise from nights spent staring out at the surf with Annabel draped across my lap. Her laughter, soft and cruel, a melody undercutting the ocean’s roar. The memory pulls like a riptide, dragging me under.
Not tonight.
I set a blank canvas on the easel in the corner of the studio, forcing myself to focus. My hands move mechanically, laying out paints and brushes. The smell of turpentine bites at my nostrils, sharp and grounding. I’ve been avoiding this—the act of creating, of confronting her absence head-on. It’s easier tolet the house swallow me whole, let the weight of her ghost press against my chest like a stone.
But tonight, I need the distraction.
