KNOX
It’s been eleven days since she left. Not that I’m counting or anything. I swear I felt the moment her plane left the ground. Like something ripped loose inside me and never stitched back together. It was silent, but brutal.
I still feel her kiss, like it’s burned into me. Still taste the goodbye on my lips. I see her wide eyes, trying not to break, and the way she looked at me one last time before she turned around. Like she was already halfway gone.
That look’s been haunting me ever since. Playing on a loop in my head, refusing to fade. I keep trying to push it aside, trying to pretend I didn’t let the best damn thing in my life slip through my fingers. But wishing doesn’t change a damn thing, and it sure as hell doesn’t bring her back.
The day before she left, I tore through the front door like the world was on fire. Heart in my throat, hands shaking, desperation burning holes through my chest. I sat down at the kitchen table and scrawled out a letter that probably sounded like a mess of regret and hope.
Then I dug through the old cedar box tucked away in the closet. The one with the heirlooms. I knew exactly what I was looking for. That compass had been in my family for generations, but in that moment, it only belonged to her.
Rose didn’t owe me a damn thing, but when I asked, she promised she’d slip it into Juliette’s suitcase.
I couldn’t go after her, but I needed her to know Isawit now. At the same time, I didn’t want to suffocate her with more of my bullshit. She needed space. Shedeservedspace. Even if not hearing from her all this time has been eating away at me.
I thought I’d hear from her by now. Anything to let me know she got it. It’s been nothing but silence. My hope diminishes, that little light that’s been keeping me going flickering, with every day that passes without a word.
Today, I’m at home, even though I should be at work. Callan told me I was about as useful as a whisky barrel with a hole in it and that my moping around like a sad Highland cow was putting everyone on edge.
He wasn’t wrong.
I’m pacing the length of my living room, running my hands through my hair for the hundredth time. The silence is suffocating, the only noise cutting through the occasional click of the cat’s claws skittering across the hardwood.
My eyes fall to the bottle of whisky sitting on the island. It’s tempting, but I know damn well that drowning my sorrows won’t bring her back. I might feel better for a minute, but it won’t fix anything. Instead, I head for the porch. Maybe a walk will clear my head or, at the very least, give me something else to focus on.
I start down the path toward the loch, boots crunching against the gravel with every step. I barely make it a few paces before the sound of tires on the drive stops me cold.
Who would be showing up in the middle of the day? If it’s Callan, checking up on me like some bloody nanny, I swear to everything holy, I’ll toss him in the loch myself.
I turn back toward the house, squinting against the sun, expecting to see Callan trudging down the drive. I spot a taxi pulling up and freeze.
I take a step forward, my eyes locked on the vehicle as the door swings open. It can’t be…
But it is.
Juliette.
She’s slightly disheveled, her clothes wrinkled from hours of travel, her hair a wild mess. And yet, without a doubt, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. For a moment, I’m rooted to the spot, my heart stuttering as I stare at her like I’m seeing a damn ghost.
Then, everything inside me snaps into motion, and I’m moving, eating up the distance between us with a few long strides. Before I even realize what’s happening, she’s running toward me, her bags forgotten on the gravel, and we collide.
Her face presses against my chest, her arms wrapped tight around my waist. I hold her just as hard, burying my face in her hair. The scent of citrus and sunshine floods my senses, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m breathing again.
I press a kiss to the top of her head as the sobs that wrack her body shake me to my core. “I’m so sorry,” she murmurs, her voice cracking. “I didn’t get your letter until yesterday. My luggage was lost, and I…” she trails off, her breath hitching.
I pull back just enough to frame her face with my hands, wiping away the tears that spill down her cheeks. Her hazel eyes are swollen with emotion, exhaustion written all over her. “It’s all right, lass,” I murmur. “You’re here now.”
Her grip tightens on my shirt, her fingers digging into the fabric as she tries to steady herself and take a deep breath. “Iread your letter…and the compass…” Her voice cracks again, and she buries her face back into my chest, the words swallowed by a broken sob.
I swallow hard, fighting to find the right words. “I wanted you to understand. I know I messed up, keeping things from you like that?—”
Her breathless words spill out in a rush. “I’m in love with you,” she says. “I love you so much. Leaving was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”
God, I’ve been dying to hear her say that.
A broken sound of relief escapes me as I pull her closer. My pulse hammers in my ears, and then her mouth is on mine.
It’s not soft. Not even close.
