Chapter 29 #3
“Right, I’ll let you get on with whatever wanky CEO activities you need to do. See you soon.”
“Yeah. Can’t wait, buddy.”
The line goes dead. Silence fills the car.
Patrick’s entire demeanor shifts, his shoulders rigid, jaw set in that grim line I recognize as his emotional shutdown mode.
The Skye bubble we’ve been floating in suddenly feels fragile, like it might pop the moment Jake sets foot on the island. And from the way Patrick’s gripping the steering wheel, I think he’s having the exact same realization.
My fingers drift to my throat, reaching for Riri’s chain the way I always do when I’m nervous.
Except my fingers find bare skin.
It’s not there.
I twist the rearview mirror toward me, craning my neck to see properly. Nothing. Just the curve of my throat where the gold should be sitting.
“No,” I whisper, scrabbling frantically at my jumper like it might be tangled in the fabric. “Oh God. No, no, no.”
Patrick glances over, his brow creasing. “What’s wrong?”
“My chain. It’s gone.” My hands won’t stop moving, checking and rechecking my neck, my collar, anywhere it might be hiding. “I must have lost it up at Storr.”
He eases off the accelerator. “When do you last remember having it?”
“I... I took it off this morning because of the Fairy Pools, but then I put it back on, I definitely put it back on before I met you, I always...” My voice climbs higher. “I’m so careful with it. I check it constantly. I never take it off, ever.”
I can’t stop touching my throat, like my fingers don’t believe what my eyes are telling me.
Patrick pulls over onto the verge and switches on the hazard lights. The sky’s already deep purple, meaning darkness is coming.
“Check the car,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Maybe it fell off in here.”
I dive under my seat, running my hands along the floor mats while my breathing goes shallow and quick. This can’t be happening.
“It must’ve come off when you were carrying me,” I babble, contorting to look under his seat too. “The piggyback, all that bouncing—”
“Georgie.” His tone is gentle but firm. “It could be anywhere up there. You might have to accept that it’s gone.”
“No.” I sit up too fast, dizzy. “You don’t understand. Riri gave me that chain. Can you take me back up there? Please? I need to look for it.”
“You’re not scrambling around rocks in the dark. That’s not happening.”
I blink hard, willing back tears. “I’ll go before work. If I went really early, I could get up and down—”
“No.” His tone hardens. “That hike takes three hours minimum. You’ve got to be in at nine.”
He doesn’t offer what I’m desperate to hear. He doesn’t say I can take the morning off, or that he understands.
Instead, he exhales like he’s trying to reassure me. “It’s just a chain, Georgie.”
Just a chain? Without it, I feel like someone’s cut the last thread tying me to Riri. Maybe for him it’s just gold, but for me, it’s proof I once had someone who loved me.
My throat goes tight and hot. I turn to the window fast, blinking hard at the darkening hills. “Right. I guess… it’ll have to wait until next Saturday then.”
I pull my sleeves down over my hands, wrapping the fabric around my fingers until they disappear completely.
I don’t know how I’m going to cope all week without it. I just want to go tomorrow. A whole week of that sick, hollow feeling in my chest.
He doesn’t get it. How could he? To him, it’s just jewelry. A replaceable object that can be sorted out eventually, when it’s convenient.
He starts the engine again, and the radio fills the silence with some cheerful rock song that feels completely wrong for how hollow I feel right now.
We pull into Portree, and I press my lips together hard, concentrating on the shop windows blurring past rather than the burning behind my eyes. If I speak, I’ll cry.
The man literally carried me up a mountain two hours ago; now he’s giving me tough love over my chain.
Is it because of Jake’s call earlier? I keep replaying how his whole demeanor changed when he saw Jake’s name on his phone. Maybe Jake reminded him of the boundary that needs to be placed between us.
Or maybe it’s simpler than that. Maybe he saw me getting emotional about the necklace and thought Here we go, this is why I don’t get involved with women like her.
“I should get you back,” he says, checking his watch. “I’ve got an early flight to London tomorrow.”
“Of course.” I look out the window, trying to compose myself. “Something important?”
“Board meeting.”
He pulls up outside the cottage.
I climb out on unsteady legs, forcing a smile I don’t feel. “Thanks for today. The hike was lovely.”
“Glad you enjoyed it.”
“Have a safe flight,” I say quietly.
“Good night. Get some rest, Georgie.”
I make it through the front door and lean against it, listening to the sound of his Land Rover driving away. Only then do I let the tears come, sliding down my cheeks as I touch my bare throat again.
The necklace is gone.
The same necklace that found its way back to Riri through a random charity shop five years after she lost it. Like the universe was saying Sorry for taking your husband, here’s your jewelry back. Which is a pretty crap trade, but she wore it anyway.
Now I’ve lost it on a Scottish hillside.
The irony feels cruel. Riri lost it and found it again after losing the love of her life. I’m losing it right when I’m falling for someone I absolutely cannot have.
Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe some things aren’t meant to be kept.