Chapter 28
28
Half of Fraser’s stock was gone by the end of the day, and almost all of his business cards. Fairies that had spent years in his shed now belonged to people who would hopefully care for them a little better. A warmth settled in his chest as he packed up his stall. Thank goodness Harper had pushed him to do this. Being praised for his work all day had left him overwhelmed with pride. He hadn’t quite realised how great an impact the fairies had made on the locals, how much they’d been enjoyed on the trail.
His gaze fell to Harper. She’d been quiet this afternoon, but he hadn’t had time to ask why. She looked gorgeous in the amber light of the setting sun, her nose pink from the cold as she carefully wrapped up his unsold pieces and placed each one back in the crate. Her teeth chattered, lips pale.
Without thinking, he pulled off his red tartan scarf and wound it around her neck, causing her to startle. “I know it doesn’t match your outfit, but…”
She soon melted into a smile, burying her chin into the wool. “Thanks.”
“Fancy a drink after this?” He nodded across the road to the Turloch Corner Tavern, which was already piled full of people. Despite the chill in the air, patrons were eating and drinking outside, the atmosphere loud and bubbly after such a cheerful day. “I think Mum’s already inside with Cam.”
Harper hesitated. Just for a second, but he saw it. Something in her eyes was dark and lifeless, like he was looking at her through tinted windows. “Sure. Sounds good.”
“We don’t have to, if you’re tired,” he said. Maybe he’d relied on her too much today. Drained her. The thought made him uneasy.
She shook her head. Went back to tidying. “I’m sure I can manage a pint.”
Whatever it was, she was trying to hide it, and some part of him didn’t want to push – afraid if he did, it might break the spell of the day’s festivities.
“Thank you for everything today, Harp.” His voice was delicate, barely concealing a plea – for what, he didn’t quite know. Perhaps he just wanted her to look at him. Perhaps he just wanted to be sure that everything was okay.
“Of course. It was good fun.”
He placed the lid on the box of figurines then slapped his hands together. “All done.”
Harper said nothing, still searching for more things to clean or put away. But there was nothing left on the table, and the silence between them was laid bare too.
He couldn’t not ask. “Is something wrong, sunshine?”
She shook her head, playing with the frayed tassels of his scarf nervously.
So something was wrong, then, and she was doing a terrible job of denying it.
Anxiety bounced like springs inside him. He took her hand carefully and waited.
She traced the rough callouses on his fingers. “I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to ruin the day.”
Oh, god. She was going to break it off with him. A lump built in his throat, and he worked hard to gulp it down, but that only served to make it worse. “Do what?” he croaked.
“I…” She sighed, finally meeting his eyes. Hers were glossy, and her lip quivered. His insecurity quickly turned to concern. Was it something else? “I got an email from my old boss the other day. He wants me to interview with him again.”
Fraser narrowed his eyes. “The same boss who made you redundant?”
A nod. “But not the same role, otherwise I wouldn’t even be considering it, trust me. He wants me to step in as the director of the marketing team.”
“Wow...” He dropped her hand without realising it, trying to comprehend what that meant. Director .
It was a good opportunity. One she was “considering”.
She’d proven herself to be a skilled marketer, not just to him, but to Andy and everybody else who had benefitted from her ideas.
He wanted to say so many things. Wanted to point out that, not too long ago, she’d claimed to be unhappy at that company.
But it wouldn’t be right to do that. She’d supported him enough, encouraged him into the spotlight with his work. Wasn’t it his responsibility to do the same?
He’d always known she would have to go home. Why couldn’t he just… let her?
His face stung, and something far deeper within him, too, when he realised what all of this truly meant.
She was leaving.
“When is the interview?”
“The week after next.” Her voice was hollow. So was his chest.
He slid his hands into his pockets, fixing his stare on a sunflower petal on the ground because he couldn’t bear to look at her. Couldn’t bear to remind himself of what he was in the process of losing. Knowing that this moment had always been inevitable didn’t make it any easier.
This, he realised, was why he’d held back in the beginning. This was why he hadn’t wanted to get too attached. Because now the goodbye was coming, sooner than he’d expected, and it felt like…
He didn’t even know what it felt like. His ears were ringing, heart thudding, and every nerve in his body jangled.
He squeezed his eyes closed quickly. Don’t be so fucking selfish, Fraser. Support her the way she’s supported you. Tell her you’re bloody happy for her, for Christ’s sake.
He inhaled shakily, scratching his locked jaw. “You should go for it.”
The silence teetered like a glass on the brink of shattering between them. She tilted her head, throat bobbing. “You think?”
“Aye. Of course. You’re great at what you do. It’s about time people started recognising that.” His words sounded stiff even to his own ears.
Harper took a step back. “Oh. Okay.”
He didn’t understand. Had she been expecting something else? What could he possibly say? He couldn’t tell her how to live her life. Couldn’t ask her to stay. She could be successful in Manchester. What could he possibly offer her that trumped that?
“I would have to leave soon,” she said quietly. “Next week.”
“I could drive you into Glasgow, if it makes it easier. You know, to plan travel stuff.”
What was he doing ? Another version of himself stood behind him, screaming at him to stop . Shut up. He didn’t want to drive her into Glasgow. He didn’t want to drive her anywhere that wasn’t home – his house, or his cabin.
Harper blinked as though his words surprised her. “Okay. Thank you.” She paused. “I would come back for the launch party, if you wanted me to. I wouldn’t want to miss it.”
“That would be nice, but you wouldn’t have to.” He didn’t even want a launch party if she wasn’t going to be here anymore. He didn’t want anything that wasn’t complete and utter numbness. He certainly didn’t want any more of this sharp stabbing in his chest, which was penetrating deeper with every word she said.
“Whatever you want, Fraser.” She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. “You know, I think I’ll save that drink for tomorrow. I’m tired.” She unwound his scarf from her neck quickly, pressing it into his chest.
Why was she giving it back?
He frowned, fingers loose around it. “I’ll drive you, then.”
“No. Your mum is waiting for you inside. Go. I’ll walk.”
“It’s cold,” he pointed out.
“The walk will warm me up.” And then she was brushing past him. Walking towards the bridge. Fraser’s heart rang out like alarm bells in his ears, in perfect unison with the ones drifting from St. Margaret’s to signal the new hour.
He wanted to call out, bring her back to him, but what was the point?
She was leaving, whether he liked it or not. Maybe it was better not to pretend otherwise.
They never should have done it in the first place, but he’d let himself fall despite wanting so badly not to.
He’d brought this pain on himself by being reckless and impulsive and addicted – to her laugh, her taste, her warmth. To her .
Fraser felt like the life had been leached from him as he crossed the road. He forced his legs to walk into the tavern, only to distract himself from the truth stirring like cement in his chest.
She was already gone.
“Where’s Harper?” was the first question his Mum asked when he walked into the Turloch Corner Tavern alone. He huffed and slumped onto the chair opposite her and his sister, shaking his head.
“Oh, crap,” Cam said quietly. “She told you.”
He snapped his head up, ire burning inside him. “You knew ?”
Harper had told his bloody meddling sister before she’d told him ? They might not have been in a serious relationship, but he sort of thought he’d earned the right to know that the woman he’d been making love to just two nights ago was leaving.
Cam lifted her hands in surrender. “She only told me and Eiley today! She was upset, that was all. We helped talk her—” She paused. “Hang on. Why aren’t you with her instead of us?”
“What do you mean she was upset?” Fraser asked. Why was she upset? She’d made the choice to leave. She was getting the promotion she’d clearly wanted. She’d been the one to keep this casual, convince him to make the most of each other while they could.
Cam jabbed a thumb into her shoulder. “I asked first. What have you gone and done, you big tube?”
“I didn’t do anything. I said she should go for it because she deserves the success she wants. Then she said she was tired and she wanted to walk home.”
“You utter nincompoop!” She flicked him on the forehead. Hard.
“ Ow !” he complained, rubbing away the sharp sting.
“Oh, deary me,” said Mum, shaking her head. “Deary, deary me, Fraser.”
“ What ? I did the right thing!” His voice rose to a shrill, defensive crescendo. Why were they looking at him like he was the child at preschool who kept licking the fingerpaints?
“You absolutely did,” said Cam.
“Thank you.”
“ Not !” she bellowed, slamming her elbows on the table so hard that her pint sloshed in its glass. A sea of eyes turned to their table in surprise, but Cam didn’t seem to care. “You were supposed to ask her how she was feeling, not pack up her suitcase and send her on her merry way!”
Fraser rubbed a hand over his face roughly. He really didn’t need this tonight. “I didn’t need to ask how she feels,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “We both knew this would come to an end.”
“Oh, Fraser, I despair.” Mum huffed out a long breath and glugged down her white wine. “You were supposed to ask her to stay!”
“Yes!” agreed Cam, but then her brows knitted together. “Wait, no. That wasn’t what he was supposed to do, Mum. You can’t be asking a strong, independent woman to sacrifice her career.”
“Exactly. So I didn’t,” he retorted.
“Oh, that’s very true. So what was he supposed to do?” asked Mum.
“He was supposed to ask her what she wanted,” she answered pointedly. “If he had, he might have realised that Harper does not want to go back to Manchester yet, because she’s obsessed with him and her heart is in writing.”
“ Obsessed ?” Fraser cut in. “She said that?”
“She didn’t have to, you dolt,” said Cam, “because it’s patently obvious that you are both mad for each other. Now, as I was saying: if you had asked her, you could have figured out a way where you can both get what you want.”
“Oh, yes. That sounds reasonable.” Mum nodded, wiping the wine from her mouth. “You should have done that, Fraser.”
He scoffed, casting his eyes to the heavens. “It must be nice to live in a fantasy world where everything is all butterflies and rainbows! We agreed that there would come a time when Harper would have to leave. This was inevitable. I’m not going to fight for something we already knew we’d have to lose and make things complicated!”
“Yes, because god forbid things get complicated, Fraser.” Cam’s tone verged on something beyond her usual sarcasm. Something cutting.
Fraser flinched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look at you. Every day, you live the same life. You get up, go to work, help a friend or one of us, go to bed.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a routine. You get up and go to work, too. And you’re welcome, for the helping thing, by the way!”
“I didn’t get a wife and two children by only going to work, or by avoiding change!” Cam said. “I worked hard for it. I put time and effort into it. I took a chance, even when I was fucking terrified.”
He leaned back in his chair impatiently, unable to hold back his sneer. “And that makes you a love guru? Come off it, Cam.”
“It makes me not alone!”
He recoiled; the insult felt like a slap. Alone ?
“Okay, now that’s enough,” Mum interjected with a cautious arm between them. “Your brother isn’t alone, and there’s nothing wrong with choosing not to be in love.”
“No, there isn’t. But he isn’t choosing that, Mum, because he’s already in love. What he’s choosing is to let it pass him by because he’s scared.”
“Scared!” He let out a hollow laugh, but it only made his ribs ache more.
Scared . Was that what he was? What he’d always been?
The colour drained from his face as he realised that perhaps he was. He’d been holding back on Harper since the beginning. He’d avoided dating and had swiftly put an end to past relationships before the other party could do it first.
No. No, he refused to live in a world where his harsh, know-it-all sister actually did know it all. “I’m not in love with Harper,” he said. “We haven’t even known each other that long.”
“Like that has anything to do with it.” Cam blew her thick fringe from her eyes.
Mum looked sadly between them. She hated when they fought. She’d never told them, but Fraser suspected it was because their house had once been an echo chamber of fighting, and his dad, with the loudest voice and the sharpest tongue, always won.
Fraser would rather live the rest of his life in the same routine than ever risk being dragged into something so volatile. So what if things with Harper had been good? They wouldn’t be forever. People fought and they broke up. They hurt each other. They left. It was better to end on a high note than risk a sour one.
“Fraser… I think your sister is trying to say that, if you like this woman as much as you seem to, maybe you shouldn’t just let her go,” Mum said.
He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut in quickly. “You thought you were doing right by her. I know, love. But she might have wanted more. She might have wanted to at least know if you wanted her to stay, even if you couldn’t ask her to. She might have wanted to figure out a way to keep you both: the job and you. It sounds like you didn’t offer her that.”
A dull ache pounded behind his eyes. Was she right? Had he been so quick to support her that he hadn’t even noticed perhaps she’d needed more? Deserved more?
It didn’t matter, not really. He couldn’t give Harper an answer. He wanted her to stay, but the world didn’t work that way. Things changed. Fraser just wanted to maintain enough stability to carry on. To survive. It was easier to do that without her, even if it meant more suffering in the short run.
“There isn’t a way to do that. She has her life and I have mine.” He sounded hoarse. Close to tears. Felt it, too, like somebody had scrubbed him down with sandpaper, leaving his skin shredded and raw.
“No. That was how it was before, when you didn’t know her,” Mum said. “That girl helped you chase a dream we didn’t even know you had. Your lives aren’t separate at all.” She shifted and pursed her lips. “And they probably never will be again, no matter what you do. You don’t just untangle yourself from the people you love. Even if you want to.”
She was talking about Dad. It still lingered with her. He still lingered. Fraser felt it, when they were sitting down at the table and one of the chairs was empty, or when he went into the attic and found a box of Dad’s things he’d never come back to collect.
Even now, he could smell Harper on his scarf. Her perfume, her skin, that fruity lip gloss she wore and the caramel coffee she’d been drinking earlier that day.
What if he couldn’t wash it away?
What if he would be stuck here, thinking of her, forever?
When he thought of his future, it suddenly felt like a black hole – or perhaps it had for a while. He’d never dared imagine a partner or a family of his own, though he’d always wanted it. His life revolved around the same work he did every day. Like that old redwood tree by the loch that never seemed to change, not even in punishing winds and rain. It had been there for far longer than he’d been alive. The landscape wouldn’t be the same without it.
He’d thought he was meant to be like that: stationary, evergreen.
Harper had changed that.
“I can see common sense creeping back into his eyes,” Cam whispered. “Well done, Mum.”
It wasn’t common sense. It was panic: that he’d done the wrong thing, that everything had changed. That he was in love with a woman who wouldn’t be easy to keep.
Would he forgive himself if he didn’t at least try?