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“No need to welcome us,” Hamish couldn’t resist saying. “We feel quite entitled to be here.”

“Of course,” Ewan winced. “I only meant⁠—”

“Hi Ewan,” Tia cut over the top, smoothing past the discomfort. Or so he thought. But her next comment dropped like a clanger in the room. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Ewan’s face turned puce but he stood his ground. “I wish I could say the same.”

Hamish’s spine straightened. “Our wedding was small; just us and the people we care about.”

“I note that doesn’t include your parents,” Ewan remarked.

Hamish clenched his teeth. He thought about saying something like, they chose their side, but it wasn’t purely for that reason. He’d wanted their nuptials to fly under the radar and sadly, he couldn’t have trusted his mother. He settled for a more palatable explanation. “I didn’t want our mother to feel pressured to travel at the moment.”

“And you couldn’t have waited?”

Hamish’s gaze flicked to Cressida. Strange how badly he didn’t want to hurt her, how much he felt a need to protect her. But maybe he was doing that by being honest? At some point, if Tia fell pregnant, she’d learn the truth. Perhaps it was better to just rip off the Band-Aid? “Call it old-fashioned, but we wanted to be married before Tia gets pregnant.”

He heard Cressida’s gasp but didn’t look in her direction. He couldn’t. He knew the pain there would give him no pleasure.

Ewan’s features tightened, and even his pain was horrible to witness. Hamish opened his mouth to say something consoling, to tell Ewan he was sorry to hear about their fertility issues, but he closed it again. It wasn’t his place to offer comfort to them—that didn’t mean he didn’t feel sympathy.

Silence throbbed in the room, a living entity, a form of oppressive weight.

“I see,” was all Ewan said, after a long, long time. “Well, that is good news.” It sounded as though he wanted to die. Hamish closed his eyes briefly, still not looking at Cressida.

Tia squeezed his hand, drawing him back to the present. “Where’s mum?”

“In her sitting room,” Cressida finally spoke, voice barely a whisper, eyes, he now saw, locked to Tia, staring at her with an expression he couldn’t fathom. He glanced down and for her part, Tia looked…impenetrable. Almost unreal. She was like a goddess come to live amongst mortals, with that self-possession she wore as a cloak, confidence that seemed stitched into the lining of her soul. It took his breath away.

As if his thoughts had the power to draw her eyes to his, she angled her face to his, the movement so graceful it was as though an entire ballet could have been based on that alone. He wondered if Ewan and Cressida saw it. How could they not? He realised then that this had perhaps been a part of why he’d wanted to marry Tia. The baby situation was one thing, but there was also this—she was a truly impressive, formidable and intimidating woman. Beautiful, and relaxed with the people she trusted, but with everyone else, completely unshakable. She was safe and reliable, and she was completely in his corner.

It gave him a shot of strength and courage, and when she smiled, it was as though every flower in the fields to the east of their property was bursting to life. “Shall we go see her?” Tia suggested, and then, lifting her spare hand to lovingly caress his cheek. “You know how much I’ve been looking forward to meeting her.” Her smile widened; it was dazzling.

He was barely conscious of Cressida moving until she reached the doorway and murmured, “Excuse me,” before sweeping through it.

“Jesus, Haim,” Ewan expelled a long breath. “This is fucking low.”

The flowers disappeared. The warmth Tia’s smile had spread through him disappeared on a blade of lightning.

“I beg your pardon?” He, naturally, did no such thing.

When he turned to face his brother, Tia’s hand dropped from his face and he instantly missed the contact. If he’d been less in this moment, he might have realised an alarm bell was bleating in his mind but it was hard to hear anything above the furious raging of his pulse.

“Showing up married with no goddamn warning, then dropping a pregnancy bombshell like you don’t know—as if dad hasn’t told you⁠—”

“He has,” Hamish admitted. “But one thing has nothing to do with the other.”

Ewan took a step backward, his eyes not leaving Hamish’s face. “How can you do this to her?”

“It’s been a long time,” said Hamish. “You’ve moved on with your life; why shouldn’t I?”

Ewan flinched. “It’s just, the timing…”

“Not everything revolves around you. It can’t be helped.”

Ewan closed his eyes.

“Hamish,” Tia’s voice was soft, and he blinked down at her, as if awakening from a dream. “I really would like to meet your mom. There’s something I want to give her.”