But still, this was the cherry on top of an already challenging day.
The sinking feeling conjured by vengeful gods is slowly beginning to dissipate, giving way to the anxiety that slithers its way up from the pit of my stomach as I take in the amount of cleaning that has just landed in my lap. Perhaps I’ve overreacted, and it wasn’t an omen after all, and it was just typical bad luck.
I wasn’t always this way; I didn’t use to have such crippling anxiety and fear. But in the last few weeks, Gran’s disease has become chaotic, and her outbursts more violent. I don’t really have the nerves to handle the conflict this disease brings, and that’s all I’ve been doing lately. Most of my life before my parents’ deaths was uncommonly peaceful. So, I didn’t develop the necessary skill set for battle.
Gran, however, is a formidable opponent, an extremely battle-hardened woman. She should be running a country or coordinating war strategies, not wasting away from vascular dementia.
The mundane task of cleaning begins to soothe away any lingering anxiety. But the state of all this almost ruined pricelessantique furniture makes my heart ache. I rub a hand across my chest and take slow breaths. I didn’t grow up wealthy. Although my parents and I were supported by a trust fund, thanks to Gran, we lived very meagerly. Only keeping what we could easily pack as we flitted from place to place. There was no limit to our travels, as my parents often combined my schooling with whatever adventure we were currently experiencing.
This is actually the longest time I’ve ever stayed in one place. I could have continued our way of life and traveled wherever I wanted, but it felt unbearable on my own. Besides Lachlan, I’ve never had any friends. When you live in a very religious-dominated country, as a pagan, people find you strange and don’t really want their children around you. Because of that, when I did reach adulthood, I had a really hard time connecting with anyone else my age.
The loneliness eventually became debilitating, and seeing as the only people I have left live here, it was a natural next step. The last five months have begun to give me the purpose I so desperately needed while drowning in the abyss of my grief.
My legs burn as I bend down to plug in the vacuum cleaner to finish tidying up the mess. My jog to Torin was the most physical activity I’ve done in some time, and my poor muscles have begun withering away from the lack of use. I used to climb mountains and spar with my parents, and now I can barely jog the quarter mile to Torin’s.Pathetic.
The light ringing of the doorbell breaks through the sound of the vacuum, and I tip my head back, groaning loudly.
When I swing the door open, I see none other than my saving grace standing on the worn flagstone steps—Lachlan. My breath catches in my throat, and my heart begins to beat erratically. He’s so tall, he’s nearly eye level with me from where he stands, three stairs down on the stoop. The light breeze ruffles his longer, dark, unkempt hair, and my fingers flex against the door frame, aching to reach out and touch the silken tresses.
“Key,” he breathes, his eyes dancing as he takes me in. “Are ye alright?”
The familiar cadence of his Scottish accent causes my blood to heat, but more than that, my heart swells at his use of my childhood nickname.
Gran took to calling us Lach and Key, partially because we were always attached to each other at the hip and partially because my naturally sunny disposition always brought Lach out of his surly one. My eyes line with silver at his obvious concern, and I quickly usher him inside and into the parlor.
“Not really, it’s been a day,” I complain, trying to hold myself together. “Gran’s having a rough time. She’s been yelling and throwing things; not wanting to bathe this morning or eat, and of course, she did not want to get dressed. It was a battle to get anything done, and then I finally got her settled in the parlor with one of her puzzles, and I heard a poor bird trapped in the chimney?—”
“A bird?” he asks, his eyebrow arching.
The motion causes my eyes to lock onto his, the familiar pools of green wreaking havoc on my already overworked heart.
But I nod and forge on. “I had to go get your dad for help, and the whole time, I’m worried about leaving Gran in the house alone, and then when we got back to the manor, the bird was on Gran’s shoulder! She was talking to it, but all I could think about was it attacking her!”
His eyes crinkle at the corners, his smile carving through his granite-hewn bone structure as he chuckles at my hysterics. It makes my entire body tingle when he looks at me like that.
“Looks like I got here just in time to be the hero then; what do ye need?”
I motion to the drawing room. “It’s fine now. I got it all cleaned. It’s just been an emotional day.”
Lachlan nods as he takes in the state of the room and stoopsdown to pick up a black feather I must’ve missed. The motion has his muscles flexing through his long-sleeved shirt, and I stifle a sigh. But a dull ringing begins building in my ears, and I wonder if I’m going to have a panic attack from the stress of the day or from the attraction I feel towards him.
As he stands upright, he turns slightly towards me, and I glimpse an emerald-colored jewelry box in his other hand. The annoyance of the ringing climbs higher now, bordering on a piercing shrill. My eyes zero in on the box in his hand as he holds it out to me. I look up at his face to see his lips moving, but his voice doesn’t permeate the shrill sound. I’m doing my best to act normal, but the ringing isn’t lessening; my breathing shifts into quick pants as my panic rises.
“Did you say something?” I ask.
But I must have yelled because I see Lachlan’s face break into a smile and then his shoulders shudder in what I assume is laughter. I tug an earlobe, hoping to ease some of the pressure, and it works as the ringing begins to subside. When the sound abruptly cuts off, I heave a sigh of relief.
Lachlan repeats, “I said I got ye a present. It’s from the antique shop in town.” He scrubs the back of his neck with his other hand and shrugs. “I ken ye like the old stuff, and I wanted to get ye a homecoming present. Well, belated homecoming present.” He holds the box out closer to me, and I take it in both hands, beaming at him.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I gush.
But secretly, I’m thrilled he’s bought me a gift and remembered my love of antiques. I gently lift the lid off the box and stifle a gasp. Nestled inside is the most stunning, ancient-looking gold medallion attached to a thin gold chain. The medallion is about the size of a coin, with etched runes swirling around a poppy. My mouth drops open, and it takes a moment for me to be able to speak.
“Lachlan, I can’t—I can’t accept this. It must’ve cost afortune,” I breathe, looking up at him. His eyes are full of an emotion I can’t quite place.
“I insist, Key.”
I shake my head in disagreement, but my eyes are locked back onto the enchanting necklace. Lachlan slips the necklace from the box in my hands and unclasps the chain, holding it open in front of me.
