Chapter 38 Robyn
ROBYN
Children’s laughter, ducks quacking, traffic passing in the distance were the soundtrack to the park as I strolled with my mom. It had been some time since I’d walked in the Public Garden, even before I’d left Boston for Scotland.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” Mom said.
The sun beat down on my bare skin revealed by my tank top. “I forgot how pretty this place is.”
“Yeah.” Mom sighed. “So … how are you doing after everything? You’ve been through the ringer, baby.”
I shrugged, my tone masking the truth. “I’m okay.”
“The tabloids kept phoning the house.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be silly. Seth handled it. We’re just worried about you.”
I didn’t know what to say to her. There were so many reasons I was reeling. One, because I never thought anyone could ever deceive me the way Lucy had. That messes with your head, questioning how you missed it. I’d considered myself pretty astute, but at no point did I ever suspect her.
That’s scary.
It makes you doubt yourself.
It makes you doubt other people.
And I didn’t want what she’d done to make me not trust people anymore.
Maybe I’d already let her win by not trusting Lachlan when he told me he loved me.
I’d yearned, I think for far longer than I even realized, for him to say those words to me.
Yet when he said them, they were terrifying.
He’d pushed me away before, several times, and I couldn’t live my life like that.
Loving someone so much and having them love you back but on their terms, always holding you at arm’s length. Never the priority.
That wasn’t the kind of love I wanted.
And he’d only proved me right when he didn’t fight it. When he didn’t fight to make me believe. Maybe it was wrong to want him to. Maybe that wasn’t love either.
I felt empty without him, though.
It was survivable.
But it was awful.
It was like waking up every day knowing that no matter what goodness the day brought, it lacked the joy of anticipation because the person you most looked forward to seeing would never be there.
I think that’s what love is: the person you most look forward to seeing.
The person you looked around for when something funny happened and you wanted to share it.
I wondered if I’d ever really laugh again.
Not the sound or the action—those were easy. You just opened your mouth and out came the sound.
But real laughter came from the soul. Something that sparked true joy.
“I think I have a right to be worried. You’re not yourself,” Mom said, breaking through my dismal musings.
“I’m fine, Mom. Aren’t I always?”
She considered this. “And are we fine?”
I looked at her, directly in the eye because we were the same height.
Except for the fact she had cornflower blue eyes and mine were hazel, we were almost mirror images of one another.
While Regan inherited Seth’s red hair and chestnut eyes, I’d inherited my mother’s hair (and of course, Mac’s eyes).
I’d also inherited her height and figure, though I always thought she moved with more femininity than I did.
I blamed my no-nonsense stride on my athleticism.
Mom wasn’t into physical activity beyond a stroll in the park.
She was more of a creative. She liked reading and fashion and gossip rags. Regan was more like her than I was.
I loved my mom.
But I was Mac’s.
There was no denying it.
And I missed him already.
“I’m mad at you,” I answered honestly. “I’m hurt.”
“If this is about those letters—”
“Don’t make excuses, Mom. It’ll only make things worse. Mac has accepted his blame in all of this, and he and I have worked through that … but we could’ve worked through it long before now if you hadn’t made it so hard for him to see me.”
She strode away and sat down on a rare find—an empty bench overlooking Duck Island. I followed, contemplating the petulant twist to her mouth and trying to tamp down my answering irritation.
Thankfully, Mom took a few minutes to gather herself before she spoke. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“Wrong.”
Her head whipped around, her hair flying around her shoulders. Blue eyes snapped fire at me. “You don’t believe me.”
“I think you’ve confused you not wanting to get hurt.”
“I was protecting you.”
“You were protecting yourself.” I was impressed by my neutral tone. “What you did was selfish, and I lost sixteen years with my father because of it.”
“I knew it,” she hissed, eyes narrowed. “I knew he would turn you against me. You’re so like him.”
I glared back. “Mac didn’t turn me against you. Mac didn’t even lay blame at your feet. He gave me the facts, and I drew my own conclusions. And you can either be a grown-up and admit that you fucked up and hurt me … or …”
“Or what?”
I shrugged miserably. “Or we go on as before.”
“But?”
“What do you want me to say, Mom? That I can just forget this and forgive you for lying to me for sixteen years?” Tears filled my eyes. “You stood by and watched my heart break and you could have done something to stop that. But your feelings were more important.”
Tears spilled down my mom’s cheeks and she swiped at them, embarrassed. Looking away from me, I heard her harsh breathing and knew she was trying to get herself under control.
We sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, staring at the water.
Finally she looked at me. “I’m not a perfect person.
And I’m sorry if you think I put myself before you when it comes to your father.
My only excuse is that he was the first man to break my heart, and it scarred me.
I wasn’t thinking straight. Even when Seth tried to tell me I was doing wrong by hiding those letters and gifts from you …
I was so sure I was right.” She licked her lips nervously and surprised me by whispering, “I’m so sorry I did that to you. ”
Relief I didn’t even know I needed swept through me.
Yes, people could shock the hell out of me.
But sometimes that might be a good thing.
I reached for my mom’s hand and held it between mine.
Hope lit her eyes.
“I forgive you,” I whispered. “I forgive you, Mom.”
Her lips trembled as she covered my hands with her other.
We both knew it wasn’t quite as simple as that. That forgiveness was a complex concept and it didn’t work alone. Forgiveness was inextricably connected to time. But I had to trust that with time, my love for her would chip away at my resentment.
As we watched the ducks, I vowed to let go of the past. Mac was back in my life, after all. And he wasn’t going anywhere.
When he’d dropped me off at Inverness Airport, he’d hugged me so long, I thought we might meld together eventually. I hated how desolate he’d looked, like he thought I wasn’t coming back.
And while the thought of being anywhere near Lachlan Adair was a knife in the gut, I’d experience that pain as long as it meant seeing Mac again.
“I have to go back to Scotland once the trial starts,” I told Mom.
She nodded. “And to see your father.”
“Yeah. I want to spend time with him. Annually if possible.”
“What happens after the trial?”
“Traveling. For my business. The travel photographs are selling well.”
“They’re beautiful.” Mom patted my hand, pride in her eyes. “Seth has his eye on one for our anniversary present.”
I grinned. “Mom, you can have any picture, anytime you want.”
“It’ll be nice as a present,” she assured me.
“How’s Regan?” I asked tentatively.
Mom sighed wearily. “Who knows. I got an email from her last week and she said she’s in Rio.”
“As in Brazil?”
Mom’s lips turned down at the corners. “I assume so.”
“Do you want me to try calling her again?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Seth and I had a chat about that too. You have enough on your plate with this Lucy Wainwright case. Your stepfather and I will handle Regan.”
A slow smile prodded my lips.
Mom’s brows furrowed in curiosity. “What?”
“Nothing.” I rested my head on her shoulder and watched the people in the park. “It’s just sometimes … change is good.”
Change is good, I repeated to myself, thinking how Lachlan was now little more than a stranger to me.
Change is good.
And one day, I hoped I’d feel that way about him too.