“I’m not finished!” I say, loud enough for a couple at the next table to glance over. I lower my voice. “The point is, I was so terrified of getting hurt again that I convinced myself it was safer to push you away. Easier. But it wasn’t easier. It was bloody miserable, actually. Because you...” I swallow hard. “You make me feel safe. You make me feelseen. Not the polished version I show everyone else, but the actual me. The one who throws instruction manuals out of windows and can’t assemble flat-pack furniture and sometimes cries in salon kitchenettes.”
Struan opens his mouth again.
“Still not finished!” I’m on a roll now, the words tumbling out faster than I can control them. “And you’re wonderful with Lily. That night you looked after her when Da was in hospital, playing Barbies and reading her stories and just... being there. You didn’t have to do any of that. But you did. Because that’s who you are. You’re kind and patient and you make terrible jokes, and you—you built my bed, for God’s sake!”
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but he stays quiet this time.
“My heart wasn’t broken. It was more like... under renovation. Or something. God, that sounded better in my head.” I wince. “The point is, I want this. I wantyou. I want to try—properly, slow and steady, without me panicking and running away.”
I pause, suddenly aware that I’ve been talking for what feels like an eternity. Struan is watching me with soft eyes.
“Only,” I add, my voice smaller now, “it seems I might be too late. You’ve already moved on.” I gesture at the woman across from him.
Then I turn to her directly, because she deserves an apology for having to sit through... whatever this is.
“I’m so sorry about this, by the way. I’m honestly not meaning to embarrass you or cause a scene. I just... there were things I had to say. And I’ve said them. So.” I give a helpless little shrug. “Sorry. Again.”
The woman looks at me. And then, to my utter confusion, shesmiles. Warmly. Kindly. Like I’ve done something charming rather than completely unhinged.
“You must be Ainsley.” She holds out her hand.
I take it, bewildered. “Er . . . hi?”
“I’m Sophie.”
“Sophie?”
“Isla’s mum.”
The words take a moment to land. And then my face catches fire.
Oh God. Oh no. I’ve just confessed my feelings in front of the mother of his child.
I want to crawl under a table and never come out again.
Struan, the bastard, is grinning at me.
“Iwastrying to tell you,” he says, “but you weren’t letting me get a word in edgeways. And then you started saying such nice things about me that I didn’t want to interrupt. It was doing wonders for my ego, listening to all that.”
“Struan!” I choke out, horrified.
He just grins wider and winks. “Anyway, Soph and I are, of course, not on a date. I thought I owed her an apology dinner after being a bit of a dick on the phone the other day.”
“We were actually just talking about Isla,” Sophie adds. “Trying to clear the air a bit. Struan sometimes bottles things up—he’s a man, after all.” She shoots him a teasing look. “But I never want him feeling pushed out of Isla’s life. So we’re making some changes. Over the school holidays, he’s taking some timeoff work to take her to a paddleboarding course I signed her up for. And to give her a few extra lessons himself, apparently.”
Struan nods. “Aye, that’s right. Looking forward to it. A bit of time with my girl.”
Sophie’s gaze flicks over me, giving me a once-over. “You’re gorgeous, by the way. Struan has good taste.”
“Oi!” Struan jokingly protests. “You’re a taken woman.”
His attention shifts back to me, and his voice softens. “Sophie’s right, though. You’re a knockout.”
My face is still burning, but something in my chest is starting to loosen.
“And you...” I manage, taking in his sharp clothes. “You fairly got dressed up for a meeting with Sophie.”
He glances down at himself like he’s only just noticed. “What, this? Honestly, I bought it for the date you and I were supposed to go on here. I didn’t get to wear it then, so...” He shrugs, sheepish. “Seemed a shame to waste it.”
