And it’s my fault.
“Fuck.” I press my forehead against the lip of the wine bottle. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Is he okay?” I hear Ross ask.
I tilt my head to the side and find him peering at me. “Fuck off.” I return to staring at the table.
“Is he having a seizure?”
“What kind of seizure looks like this?”
“I don’t know! I’ve not seen one in person. But this isn’t normal. Is it?” Ross waves a hand under the bottle. “Hello? Big brother? Planning to return to us any time soon?”
“Let the poor man have his feelings,” Stuart says. “Leave him alone.”
“Is that what this is? Feelings?”
“It’s Angus’ version of feelings.”
“They seem to involve non-verbal noises and little else.”
“And you’re so much better?” I ask.
“Lucy says I’m surprisingly emotionally well-rounded considering the upbringing I’ve had.” I can hear Ross slurping at his wine. I want to thwack it out of his stupid hands. “I take after Ma, you know. Whereas you and Mason are more like Da. You’ve both got the brooding, grunting thing down.”
“You hardly even remember Ma!” Mason protests.
“Nor do you!” Ross says. “Doesn’t mean I can’t take after her. That’s genetics, isn’t it?”
“Like you know the first thing about genetics.”
“Says the chef.”
“For the love of Christ, could you both shut up?” Stuart’s voice cuts over theirs. “No wonder your Ma left, if this is what she had to put up with.”
Mason whistles. “Low blow. Too low.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself, bringing our Ma into it,” Ross adds.
I groan, wishing a trapdoor into hell would open under me right this moment. I’d take fiery torture for a thousand years over another second of this.
“It’s okay, Angus,” Jonathan says quietly. “This isn’t your fault. It’s all going to work out in the end. We just have to keep going.”
“I mean, he did sleep with the bride’s sister,” Ross points out. “Twice.”
“I thought it was only once? In Fort William?” Mason asks.
“Did you see the state of the Den this morning? It was definitely more than once.”
“Really? I ate my breakfast in there.”
“Hope you didn’t sit in any wet patches.”
“Enough!” I finally lift my head. “I get it. I fucked up. I ruined our one fucking chance. I’m sorry. Fuck.”
I can’t take it anymore. I took my eye off the ball. I lost us the prize. I don’t exactly know how, but at the end of the day the responsibility for the farm, its future, for everything, lies with me.
And I’ve fucked it.
