‘Oh my…’ Carli’s mind buzzed. She and Luci shared so much, yet she hadn’t told her about something as huge as a problem with her pregnancy. What did that mean? Did her sister not need her anymore?
‘You’d have told me if I’d been at home, right?’ she asked.
‘Of course, but I’m sure you’ve your own stuff happening over there.’
Carli eyed her sister through the screen, trying to scrutinise what she was saying.
‘I do, but you’re still my sister.’
‘Always.’
What did this mean. It bothered Carli but she couldn’t pinpoint it. And it was hard to think about while Luci was chattering away about this and that. It was like her sister was shutting her out a little, maybe intentionally.
‘Has Adam been looking after you?’ Carli asked.
‘Yep, don’t worry about me, baby sis, I’m in good hands. But tell me about the hands you’ve been in. Good?’
And that was it. A stupid question about Niall’s hands, which was actually about sex, but brought everything into the light.
Luci had Adam. She was having a baby with Adam. Carli would always be her sister, but Luci had her own lifeand whether she had deliberately held back the detail about her pregnancy scare because she wanted Carli to enjoy her time with Niall or because she thought only Adam needed to worry, it didn’t matter. Luci was telling Carli that she had to have her life too and she had put Niall up there in the rankings when she made decisions. Like he had done for her.
A tear stung and rolled down to Carli’s chin.
‘Fuck. Sorry.’ Luci reached out to the screen. ‘Don’t cry, Carls, ’cause I can’t give you a hug. Not that I’d be able to give you much of one if you were here seeing as I’m the size of a barge right now.’
‘Sorry, sorry.’ Carli swiped her palm across her face, half laughing, half still crying. ‘It’s… I’ve realised something.’
‘What? That you love him.’
‘No, that was never in question, although I understand a bit more about how that should look. Like, maybe me staying here to support him while his dad is sick.’ Carli was almost terrified of Luci’s reaction to this, but it was nothing like she’d feared.
‘That would be a massive step, but it makes a lot of sense.’
‘You reckon?’
‘Yep. I do. Tell me, did you do the dating euthanasia thing?’
‘Yeah, kind of, although he didn’t take his medicine.’
‘Well,’ Luci swiped her palms together, ‘the man is my brother-in-law already. You don’t want to lose him, he doesn’t want to lose you, he’s got shit going on and you want to be with him. It’s a Scotland wedding then.’
It was hard not to smile, but Carli still needed confirmation that she wouldn’t be upendingeverything that kept her stable. ‘Is it? I worry that I’ve got things on an even keel with the Fibro, work is good, and…’
‘And?’
‘Um…the oxygen chamber, and it’s cold here.’
‘Um, the oxygen chamber and the cold.’ Luci quirked an eyebrow. ‘Carli, this is a guy who you’ve never got over and by the sounds of it he feels the same. You let him “get over you” in a fricking romance library. Let’s just say, I can see he’s good for you. So, maybe you should step out of your comfort zone and take that risk. Being with Niall might help your health. And you can make a new routine wherever you are with him. Plus, they sell electric blankets and hot water bottles there, right?’
Carli gaped at her sister. ‘They do. But what about you? My big sister. I’d miss you heaps.’
‘I’d miss you, too, but I want you to be happy, and you’re so bloody glowy. So if Scotland – or a certain Scottish man – gives you that glow, I will face not seeing my little sister so often.’
It was a lot to take in. Luci got that, but was also aware that Carli needed a little kick for her own happiness. And Carli was glad she’d been given it. Once the cabin noise died down and the train stilled, she laid her head on her cool, cotton pillow and thought about tomorrow. A plan, as rich as the smell of the fresh morning coffee that filtered down from the train’s galley kitchen, was brewing in her mind. The next stop was Oban where there would be a trip to the local distillery and lunch.
But Carli had other ideas.
There were two things she needed to do. Neither were as much fun as drinking whisky or eating delicious Scottish food, but both were far more important.
