Chapter 27
Alistair
Callum: You and Isla took off quickly the other night.
Alistair: Yep.
Callum: Trouble in paradise already?
Alistair: Nope.
Callum: Good. Don’t fuck this up, we all like her.
Heather: And she’s one of the only mums at school who has interests outside of playdates and the winter musical.
Alistair: That’s a pity, I was only dating her for her winter musical knowledge.
Callum: I’m screenshotting this for my best man speech.
Alistair: Fuck off.
“Streamlining is really important to me.” Dr Radcliff’s nasal voice filtered through the laptop speakers late on Wednesday afternoon, the only time, he, Amy and I were all available that week.
The sound was like nails on a chalkboard to my overtired brain. “Rural care comes with unique challenges – limited resources and workforce shortages. My goal in the first year is to streamline without compromising the personal care that makes rural practices so valuable.”
I stared at him as he spoke, unable to put my finger on what it was about the guy that pissed me off so much.
He seemed . . . nice. Qualified, if a little bland.
The third time he uttered the word “streamline”, I couldn’t hold myself back. “With ten-minute consultations, and endless documentation – realistically, how do you actually see yourself streamlining without cutting corners?”
He blinked, shuffling his notes. “I prepare ahead where possible and prioritise the most urgent issues per visit. I won’t say it’s easy, but rushing doesn’t serve anyone if we want to avoid patients cycling through the surgery a week later with the same unresolved issues.
For this, I use follow-ups strategically. ”
“Sounds like textbook talk,” I tsked sadly, relaxing back in my chair. “What do you do when you’re forty-five minutes behind, your next three patients are getting agitated, and you’ve been called out to an emergency on the other side of the island?”
Amy shot me a glare, eyes screaming, What the fuck are you doing?
Maybe I was being a little unprofessional. But if he couldn’t handle it, then this surgery wasn’t the right fit for him.
Of course, Dr Radcliff didn’t miss a beat. “In that hypothetical situation, I’d acknowledge delays to patients and quickly reassess priorities. Sometimes that means redirecting less urgent cases or enlisting help from the duty doctor. The key is staying calm and transparent—”
I tuned out the rest, my mind easily conjuring my new favourite memory. My childhood bedroom. Isla panting, back against the wall.
Teenage Alistair would have had a heart attack.
The car ride home from my mum’s had been . . . not quite awkward, but . . . tense. Teddy singing The Little Mermaid soundtrack on repeat for the whole journey was honestly a relief.
Having Isla in my space, touching her, had made my head a little dizzy. Despite my promises, if Heather hadn’t knocked on the door, I would have kissed her if given the green light. I mean . . . she was giving me the green light, I think.
Days later, my stomach still felt knotted every time I thought of it.
So I’d formulated a plan. It was how my brain functioned best. Visualising the end goal. Assessing the obstacles. Listing every method I would employ to overcome those obstacles until it was mine.
I didn’t see why sex should be any different.
My plan was simple: tell Isla exactly what I wanted. That I wanted her – needed her – so badly I could barely fucking breathe.
The Cairn I’m driving,” I said, then frowned when he just stood there, making no move toward the kitchen. “Is everything okay?”
“Uh . . . so here’s the thing—” He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “I need to talk to you about something, and I’m not sure how you’re going to react.”
“All right.” Well, didn’t that sound ominous? “Look, if you need a mole checked, ask Amy.” He didn’t laugh.
“I want to propose to Juniper,” he said quickly, looking at me like he’d just thrown a grenade on the floor, and we were waiting for it to explode.
I blinked. “Aren’t you guys already married?”
“A handfasting in a hotel room isn’t legally binding and I .
. .” He scrubbed a hand through his hair.
“It’s more than enough for me. But also – and I’m sorry if it’s weird for you – I want to bind myself to that woman in every way humanly possible, even if it means getting married in a graveyard or whatever the fuck she wants. ”
“That’s exactly something Juniper would pick.” I laughed and his head snapped up, hopeful.
“Does that mean you’re cool with it?”
I didn’t even have to think about my answer as I closed the distance between us and clapped his shoulder. “Of course I am; you both deserve this,” I said, nothing but happy for my brother.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
His entire body seemed to sink in on itself.
“You were nervous to ask this,” I realised aloud.
He nodded. “I’d have done it anyway, but I wanted to tell you this time. Be upfront. And if you want to hit me—”
“I’m not going to hit you; I shouldn’t have even hit you then.”
He laughed, like an enormous weight had been lifted from him.
“When are you going to do it?” I asked. If it wasn’t in the next few weeks, I might not be here to celebrate with them. A year ago, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But now . . . a sour taste coated the back of my tongue.
“Soon. I’ve had the ring for months; I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
“Make it special,” I said, “She deserves that.” When I’d proposed to Juniper – years ago – it had been on a whim during a trip to Italy. Giddy from a week of sun, carbs and too much limoncello.
I hadn’t even had a ring. We’d picked one together a week later.
Callum grinned. “I knew Mr Romantic was in there somewhere. Isla’s a good influence on you.” My face must have betrayed something because he cocked his head. “What?”
“Nothing – I like her.” Even I heard the but at the end of my sentence.
“It looked a little more than like to me.”
“Okay, I really fucking like her. And Teddy – the kid is smart and hilarious,” I admitted in an incredulous rush, dropping my face into my hands. “That’s the problem. They’re both incredible . . . but they . . . they weren’t the plan—”
I cut off as the front door opened. Heels clicked off the hardwood. “I have fifteen minutes until my break ends, I want you naked in thirty seconds – oh . . . hey, Alistair.” Juniper paused in the doorway, wide brown eyes flicking between us as she hastily rebuttoned her shirt. “What’s going on?”
“Alistair’s having a panic attack because he might be in love with Isla.” Callum watched me, hands on his hips. “TBD. We didn’t get to that part yet.”
I shook my head violently. “I think I’d know if I was having a panic attack, and I’m not . . . there’s no way I’m—” I wasn’t in love with Isla. I couldn’t be.