He lets me go and heads to the sink. His movements are jerky and robotic.
I huddle in on myself. “Are you angry at me?” I ask his back.
He starts washing his hands. Red and brown flush the sink. “No.”
“No?” I examine the hard set of his shoulders. “Because you seem…upset?”
He slams off the tap. “I seemupset?” he repeats incredulously. “Summer, if I’d been one second later, you would have…” He trails off, the unspoken words hanging in the air between us.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I was just trying to help.”
He still won’t turn to look at me. “Help?”
“Yes?” I mean, I did help, right? Before I almost got brained to death anyway. “And…I didn’t get hit. I’m fine, and you’re fine, and the sheep are fine, so…so it’s all fine, isn’t it?”
Alec yanks a tea towel off a cupboard handle and dries his hands methodically. “No, Summer. Everything is notfine.”
My stomach sinks. “But?—”
“The lambing barn is ruined and will require extensive repairs. Every ewe and lamb I own is up there shivering and exposed and scared to death. And you almost—” His voice hitches. “No. Everything is notfine.And it’s all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault a tree gothit by lightning—” I start.
He slams his hand against the sink so hard the cupboards rattle. “Everything is my fault!” he shouts, and I lapse into silence. Crumpet scuttles away to the corner. “Everything that happens on this farm, good or bad, is my fault.” He recites thewords like a prayer. “I manage the place. It’s my responsibility. The line of command ends atme.”
I don’t know what to say. There’s another growl of thunder outside. He turns away, his shoulders hunching, and my heart breaks. I cross the room and tentatively take his hand.
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “We’ll fix the barn. The sheep are out of danger. It’s all fixable.”
Alec pushes me off him, finally turning to look at me. I shudder when I see his expression. His face is…awful. I’ve never seen someone in so much visible pain. He looks tortured.
“I am so sorry,” he says dully. “I’ve been selfish. You— You shouldn’t be here.”
I stare at him. “What?”
He keeps talking in a monotone. “I kept you here because you made me happy. That was selfish. None of this should have happened. You shouldn’t have been in the lambing barn tonight. You shouldn’t have been at the farm at all. None of this should have happened.”
I can’t believe my ears. “I— Are you asking me to leave?”
He closes his eyes for a second. “I can’t do this,” he says quietly. “You’re too…”
Panic bubbles up. Somehow, I know exactly what he’s about to say. “Too what?”
His grey eyes illuminate with lightning. “You’re toomuch, Summer,” he says, and everything in me falls. “I can’t think straight when you’re near me. I can’t do my job properly. I can’t keep you safe.” His voice breaks. “I can’t keep anyone safe.Not Cameron, not my dad, not you. I don’t know how this keeps happening. It’s like I can’t help being—” He swipes back his wet hair with shaky hands.
Dimly, part of me knows that Alec isn’t thinking straight. He’s upset about his sheep, and he’s understandably triggeredby people almost dying in storms. He’s not processing clearly right now.
But another part of me feels like a little girl who can never get anything right, no matter how hard she tries. Who can never get high enough grades to please her mum. Who had thousands of people online turn on her for one weak moment. Who tries her heart out for everyone, and at best earns tiny scraps of affection that always—always—get snatched away.
A few hours ago, this man was asking me to be his girlfriend. And now he wants me gone.
I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s a more likely scenario than three people actually wanting me.
“You’re breaking up with me?” I say. “Is that what this is? Are you asking me to go back to London?”
Alec looks out of the window. Another flash of lightning erupts outside, illuminating his face briefly in blue and silver. “I think that would be for the best,” he says softly.
I nod and sink back onto the kitchen chair, my head reeling. The storm screams outside.
