Chapter 17
Isla
Cameron: I’m sorry about today. I still think we should discuss this.
Isla: The money for the school trip?
Cameron: Alistair Macabe.
Knocking on the adjoining door later that night felt illegal.
Thanks to the stress of the day, it had taken longer than usual to get Teddy down, and I stifled a yawn as I waited for her to brush her teeth, between repeated interruptions to sing along to the Lion King soundtrack.
And even though we were blasting “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King” at full volume, Alistair hadn’t thumped on the wall once. He must be taking pity on me.
As soon as Teddy had fallen asleep, I’d grabbed the old baby monitor, changed into my thickest pyjamas and crept into the living room.
My knock felt like a lightning strike. “Alistair.”
The door peeling back was almost instantaneous. No lock-click. Had the door been unlocked all day?
He blinked at me, looking tired, and I whispered, “Hey.”
“Hey.” I watched him hesitate, fingers wrapped around the door handle, before finally pulling it wide. “You want to come in?”
“I was actually thinking we could go outside.” I waved the baby monitor to show I’d come prepared.
His brows flattened, taking me in from my baggy cardigan to my socked feet. “You’ll be cold.”
His wording threw me off. Not we’ll be cold, but you’ll be cold. I hooked a hand on my hip, aiming to give the impression of a lightness I didn’t feel. “I’ll have you know, I’ve lived in Scotland for almost ten years now. I’m not some soft southerner.”
That earned me the smallest smile, and he held up his hands, backing toward the kitchen. “Whatever you say, Lang. Drink?”
“Anything is fine.” I followed him, watching as the light from the fridge softened the sharp edges of his face.
“I think we can do better than fine. Let’s see . . . Oat milk, sparkling water—”
“Prison time for that.”
“Non-alcoholic beer, leftover smoothie. I have some whisky too . . .” His fridge was frighteningly organised, prepped meals in Tupperware, the days of the week printed on them. The shelves stacked with veg and leafy greens. Organic, no doubt.
“I see you’re putting the label maker to good use,” I said, grabbing the smoothie he’d pointed out. Unscrewing the lid, I brought it to my nose . . . and flinched. “It smells like swamp water.” I coughed, thrusting it back. “Are you trying to poison me?”
“A sure way to get the villagers onside,” he deadpanned, taking a swig before he set it back in the fridge.
“Whisky it is,” I decided, not really caring at all. All night there’d been a storm raging in my chest and I just . . . I wanted to not think about it for a few minutes.
He pulled the bottle down from an overhead cupboard and held it up, a tiny amount of amber liquid rolling in the bottom. “There’s only enough for a single dram. We’ll have to share it.”
“Now you’re spoiling me.”
He scoffed. “If I recall, lass, you invited me over. Now, let me pour you some of Kinleith’s finest.”
We took our drinks outside, and crossed the invisible divide between his front garden and mine, sitting on the rusted patio furniture that came with the house.
Even in the summer, the air was cold and a little damp. I tucked my feet up, pulling my legs to my chest, quietly letting the whisky warm my tongue.
“You feeling okay?” Alistair asked after a minute.
He looked so out of place on the crooked chair, his feet hurriedly shoved into unlaced brogues, that I would have laughed if I had the energy. “Yep, just a long day.”
He nodded, and I knew I didn’t need to explain. Cameron. Teddy. He’d had the up-close-and-personal experience of the shitshow that was my everyday.
“Want to talk about it?”
He hadn’t mentioned it, but I got the sense he’d overheard most of what Cameron had said anyway.
I tipped my head back, considering what to start with.
That Cameron seemed to care more about my relationship with Alistair than he did his own daughter?
That Teddy had put on a brave face but gone to bed with a broken heart, and it was bloody killing me?
Or maybe how thoroughly I was failing her, because I still had no idea how I was going to pay for her school trip?
“Just Cameron being selfish, as usual.” I shrugged, like it could encapsulate everything. I really didn’t want to talk about myself. “Can I ask you something?”
“Might as well, you’ve already started now.”
“Is it hard for you?” I asked, fiddling with the end of my braid. “Constantly being around Callum and Juniper?” He stared at me for a beat, and I rushed on. “I’m just hoping it will get easier . . . seeing Cameron.”
“That’s a different situation; Juniper and I broke up years ago.” The wind tossed his hair across his forehead, making him look younger. Boyish.
“And that didn’t answer my question.”
“I love it,” he said. “Shame Mal is already married; I was thinking about calling up my old uni girlfriend and introducing the two of them. Maybe the girl who dumped me in high school for being the captain of the chess club.”
“You’re being sarcastic.”
“Aye, Lang. I’m being sarcastic.” He slouched down in the chair, turning his face up to the clear night sky.
I assumed we were done, that I’d pushed him too far.
But he continued, “It was weird at the start, and it’s definitely awkward at times, but for the most part .
. . I’m over it.” I watched his face, looking for any hint of a lie.
I didn’t find one. “I loved Juniper. But . . . we were never right together. She needed – no, she deserved – someone to scale her walls, and I was too tied up in my career to bother trying.”
I toyed with my glass, taking another sip. At least he was honest. “Is it true you punched Callum in the face?”
His eyes flew to mine, then he scoffed. “Fucking small towns.”
“So it is true.”
“Aye.” His jaw worked back and forth. “We weren’t scrappers growing up, so it wasn’t exactly my proudest moment. Turns out I really hate being lied to.”
“I get that,” I murmured. And I did. I’d never been a violent person, but every time I watched Teddy cry over Cameron, I felt like I could breathe fire. Burn his life to cinders.
“I kicked my own arse for a long time,” he said.
“Callum forgave me right away, of course, because that’s just who he is.
But . . .” Another pause. Then he extended his left hand, showing me the little finger I noticed him rubbing sometimes.
Up close, I could see it was slightly crooked.
“It still doesn’t bend right, so I guess I paid the price long term. ”
I resisted the urge to brush my fingers over it. “And Juniper—” I quickly broke off. “Sorry, I’m being nosy.”
“If you want to ask about her, just ask.”
“It’s none of my business.”
“Hasn’t stopped you so far,” he said, not unkindly.
There was an eagerness in my chest. For some reason, I wanted to know more about him. Wanted to dig beneath the mystery that was Alistair Macabe.
“Did you cheat on her?” The question hung in the air for a long moment.
He turned in his chair, studying my face as he asked, “Would it change this arrangement if I had?”
I started to shake my head. Paused. “I’d like to say no, but . . . I think that would be the old optimistic Isla talking.”
“Firstly.” He slowly set his empty glass on the table. “Cameron is a fucking prick because I know he put this shit in your head. And for the record, no, I didn’t cheat on her.” He waited for me to look at him to finish. “I’d never do that.”
I shivered at the sincerity in his words.
I hadn’t realised how badly I’d needed to hear that. I felt one of the knots in my chest begin to unravel. I wondered if Alistair noticed, because he quickly added, “Didn’t make me a good boyfriend, though. And I was an even worse fiancé. Selfish, worked all the time, put myself first.”
It felt like a warning: Do not make the mistake of liking me.
It might already be too late for that.
And wasn’t that just so damn pathetic? I was so lonely that all it took was a few kind words from a man who’d been nothing but awful to me for months. A man who was literally waving his red flags at me.
I rested my chin on my knees as the wind whipped around us, sneaking through the holes in my cardigan. I tucked my arms more tightly around myself.
“It’s getting cold,” Alistair said, standing.
“You can head in; I’ll just be a few more minutes.
” I glanced up, breath releasing in a white puff.
I didn’t turn to watch him leave. Something about the stars always made it easier to breathe, especially on the days it all became too much.
I’d come out here and count every star in the sky.
Until my lungs loosened and I felt magnificently small. Just a pinprick in time.
What was a lifetime of financial uncertainty in comparison to an entire galaxy?
A moment later, I heard his returning footsteps and felt a blanket drape over my knees.
That did it. The dam I’d been hastily patching all evening cracked down the centre when his chest came into view.
Gently, he tucked the blanket over my shoulders, his knuckles brushing my chin.
“Pretty sure it’s against the Hippocratic oath to let you freeze to death—Fuck, Isla. ” He broke off. “Are you crying?”
“Sorry, I—” I flicked away the tear, but another was already replacing it.
“I’m just really bad at letting people take care of me.
” I felt more than saw him lower to his knees and I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Today’s been . . . a lot. And I – I still don’t know how I’m going to pay for Teddy’s school trip and .
. .” It all came out in a tear-filled tumble. “Teddy said she hated me today.”
“She didn’t mean it,” he said quickly. Fervently.