“Lily, we’re leaving.” Her voice is tight, controlled. “Now.”
“Hey,” I say quietly, reaching out to touch her arm. “It’s fine, it’s just?—”
She jerks away like I’ve burned her.
“But Mummy?—”
“Now, Lily.”
The sharpness in Ainsley’s tone freezes Lily mid-protest. Her eyes go wide.
Ainsley scoops Lily up and heads for the exit without looking back. Lily buries her face in her mother’s shoulder, her small body shaking with hiccuped sobs.
Isla’s crying now too, silent tears tracking down her cheeks.
“Hey.” I squeeze her arm. “Hey, princess. It’s okay.”
“I was mean,” she whispers. “I was really mean to Lily.”
“Aye, well. We’ll sort it. Don’t worry.”
But my chest feels hollow as I watch Ainsley disappear through the door.
“Boys,” Blair says to Lachlan and Douglas, “can you look after Isla for a minute? Struan, come with me.”
She heads off after Ainsley, and I don’t need to be told twice. I hug Isla then follow Blair, out of soft play and out of the leisure centre itself.
Outside, the rain’s still hammering down. Ainsley’s halfway across the car park, both her and Lily getting soaked.
“Ainsley, wait!” Blair says.
She doesn’t stop, but Blair indicates to me to stay put, jogs after her, and says something to her I can’t hear. Somehow—God knows how—she convinces Ainsley to come back. Blair takes Lily back inside, leaving Ainsley and me standing under the overhang, rain sheeting down inches from our feet.
She looks tired. Pale and drawn, shadows under her eyes. Her hair’s going frizzy in the damp, and she keeps her arms wrapped tight around herself.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “About the girls. That was—Isla should know better.”
“It’s not her fault.”
“No, but—” I rake a hand through my hair. “Look, she’s been a bit unsettled this week. Sophie and I had a disagreement, and Isla overheard it.” I pause, then admit: “Actually, it was less of a disagreement and more of me acting like a bit of an arse.”
Ainsley doesn’t smile. Doesn’t soften.
“The kids arguing like that?” she says. “It only proves thatthis”—she gestures between us—“was a mistake.”
“It didn’t feel like a mistake to me,” I say. “And kids argue. It happens.”
“It happened because ofus, Struan. And I can’t—Iwon’tlet anything upset Lily. She’s my priority. Myonlypriority.”
“Look, Ainsley—” I step towards her, but sheshrinksback. Wraps her arms even tighter around herself.
Shit. If I keep pushing, she’ll only bolt. I want to point out that one small spat doesn’t mean we’re doomed. That kids are resilient, that they bounce back, that this doesn’t have to be the end of anything.
But I’m not going to make her see that by arguing with her. So instead I say, “I don’t think we’re a mistake. But I can’t ignore the fact you’re scared and Lily’s upset.”
She doesn’t respond. Just stands there, rain misting around us.
“I like you, Ainsley. A lot. And I’m not chasing a fling here. You’re...” I swallow. “Well, I think there’s something here. Something worth exploring. Slowly and carefully, if that’s what you need. But if you don’t want to take things any further with me, I’ll accept that.”
