“And there’s no chance of a relationship now?” her mother asked.
“Can she trust a man who’s walked away from one wedding already?” her dad asked.
Eve had always been able to talk to her parents about everything. She wanted to now, but something held her back. Too much had shaken her confidence, and she was still emotional. She knew that one of the side effects of a heart attack was how emotional it made the victims, but she hadn’t expected a chemically induced one to have the same impact. It made her feel unsteady, like she was learning to walk again after a crippling accident. She needed to find her way again.
“He said there’s an explanation,” Eve said. “I think I want to give him a chance.”
“Are you in love with him?” her mother asked.
“I think I always have been.”
“Evie, it’s too soon to be deciding you’re in love.” Her father crossed his arms and looked at her sternly like when she’d been twelve and thought she was in love with her best friend’s older brother.
“From the man who decided he was going to marrymethe first time he met me?” Her mother matched his pose, right down to his disapproving glare.
“Evie’s been hurt before, and I won’t sit back and risk that happening to her again.”
“Because, of course, every man I get engaged to is going to freak out at the thought of actually marrying me and ditch me just before the wedding,” Eve couldn’t help adding as caustically as she could.
“What’s this?” came a querulous voice.
They turned to the doorway and found Archibald Stewart sitting in a wheelchair with a nurse behind him. Eve’s father stiffened, but she put a restraining hand on his arm.
“Please, Dad,” she whispered.
He looked at her, and the fire in his gaze seemed to go out. His shoulders drooped, and he nodded before stepping toward the older man.
“Hello, Father. Are they releasing you already?”
Archibald Stewart stared at the son he hadn’t seen in over forty years, and his eyes started to glisten. Eve’s mother clutched her hand.
“You’ve done well for yourself, Bruce,” her grandfather finally said. “I was wrong.”
“You’re correct. Youwerewrong.”
Eve was about to say something, but her mother shushed her. She knew her husband well, because he stepped forward and held out a hand to his father.
“But I was wrong too.”
Rather than take his son’s hand, Archibald struggled to stand. Both Bruce and the nurse hurried to help him to his feet, and her grandfather embraced his son. Eve and her mother hugged each other.
“You’ve already met my daughter,” her father said, his voice rough.
“Aye, and she’s a bonnie lass.” Eve’s grandfather winked at her. “And great for a migraine.”
Her dad shot her a quick look before helping the older man to sit in the wheelchair again.
“It’s time you met my wife. Letitia, this is my father Archibald Stewart. Father, Letitia.”
“Call me Lettie. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Eve’s mother sniffed as she bent to kiss his cheek.
“Where’s your young man?” Eve’s grandfather said to Eve. “Considering that you nearly died, I’d have expected your fiancé to be at your side.”
“What?” her dad cried while her mother gasped.
“He’s not my fiancé, and he never was.” Eve met her father’s gaze. “He came as a friend, but I thought it’d give him more status if they thought we were engaged. I didn’t want to look weak.”
“Friendindeed. Yer bum's oot the windae!” her grandfather said in a strong brogue, giving her a look of disgust.
