Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
IONA
Age twenty-one
After driving three and a half hours without a break, my stomach churning the whole way, I finally reach Bannock. I dropped everything and skipped classes to be here. I had to, after the message Lewis sent me earlier.
Lewis
Iona, this isn’t working. It’s over between us.
Abrupt, cold, devastating, and completely out of the blue. Well, maybe not completely . He’s been keeping me at arm’s length for weeks now, shutting down every time I reach out to him, whether in person or over the phone. It’s as though he’s been determined to handle his grief alone. I thought that was part of the process and would pass—I never expected him to do this.
When I saw his message, I called him, but he wouldn’t pick up. After trying him maybe ten times, I got in the car, and here I am.
I pull up outside the hotel, step out, and take a few breaths to steady myself. I’m upset—of course I am—but I need to handle this situation delicately. Lewis is hurting, and I have to make him understand that I can help him, that we can face this together. But... I don’t know how to get through to him.
We’re all devastated. His parents were like an aunt and uncle to me, and it’s unbearable thinking I’ll never again hear Angus’s friendly, booming voice or see Mairi’s warm, infectious smile. Lewis was especially close to his mother, and maybe that’s why he’s acting the way he is, but he should be leaning on me for support—or if not me, at least his siblings or my maw. But he isn’t.
He has, however, started going to the gym. A lot. On the surface that’s healthy, but Maw says he goes every day—sometimes twice a day. He also now meticulously tracks everything he eats. I’m sure he’s trying to regain some sense of control after what happened, but there’s a fine line between dedication and obsession.
As ready as I’ll ever be, I head inside. The hotel has always felt like a second home to me, the backdrop for countless joint family dinners filled with laughter, storytelling, and friendship. Now, though, the building feels different. Not visibly—the decoration hasn’t changed—but the life and energy Angus and Mairi brought to the place is gone.
Ally is behind the reception desk, on the phone. He’s frowning, although when he looks up and sees me, he forces a smile. I can’t begin to imagine what it’s been like for him. The eldest sibling, he’s had to take on the running of the hotel. I don’t know how he’s managing, given he—like the rest of us—is still reeling from it all. But the building is not only the family home, it’s their source of income—and Maw’s, as head chef. I suppose he hasn’t had a choice.
“Sure, I can bring Jamie in on Friday. What time?” Ally scribbles something down. “All right, thanks. Bye.” He hangs up.
“One of Jamie’s medical appointments?” I guess.
Jamie had a lengthy hospital stay immediately after the crash but is recovering at home now, although he’s going in regularly for follow-up care.
“Aye, that was the physio, and then he’s seeing the orthopaedic consultant next week. He’s getting on okay, though. You know what he’s like—still cracking jokes, despite everything.”
Somehow I can believe that. We all have our own ways of coping, I suppose.
“Is Lewis about?”
Ally shrugs. “In his room, maybe? Or at the gym—he’s always there nowadays.”
“Thanks. I’ll try upstairs.”
He nods, lifts a mug, and takes a long sip of something—coffee, probably. I imagine he needs a lot of caffeine to help him get through the day. He doesn’t ask why I’m here mid-week. With everything that’s on his plate, it likely hasn’t even struck him as odd.
Ascending the stairs, I make a mental note to check in on Cat at some point. Unlike Lewis, she’s been replying to the messages I’ve sent her, but it’s coming up for exam season at school and this is an important year for her. I’ve no idea how she’s managing to focus on studying after what happened. For now, though, I have to give Lewis all my attention. He clearly needs it.
I knock on his door. Noises come from within—an exasperated grumble, followed by the creaking of floorboards.
“Aye? What is it?” His voice is somehow both familiar and strange.
“It’s Iona.”
There’s a pause, then the door opens, revealing Lewis in only a pair of joggers. They sit low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers peeking out above them. Even though I’m here for a serious conversation, I can’t help but notice the transformation in his physique. His shoulders have broadened, and his chest has taken on a firmer, more defined shape. The change may be impressive, but it’s startling that it’s happened in such a short time.
He crosses his arms. They too are stronger, each muscle now clearly pronounced. “What do you want?”
I smart like I’ve been slapped. This is how he greets me? After the message he sent me earlier? Isn’t it obvious why I’m here?
Despite his frosty demeanour, I force myself to stand tall and look him in the eye. It’s grief that’s making him behave like this—I have to remember that.
“I know you’re in pain, but . . .”
My words trail off because something catches my attention—a flicker of movement further inside the room.
A woman, half-hidden under the covers of Lewis’s bed, stares at me with wide eyes.
Suddenly it’s a struggle to breathe. My insides twisting, my knees weakening, I place a hand against the wall to support myself. “Lewis... what the fuck is going on?”
He glances over his shoulder then meets my gaze again. “Isn’t it obvious?”
My vision blurs. “But . . .”
“What’s the problem?” His voice is chillingly emotionless. “I broke things off with you. Besides, it’s not as if we were ever properly going out. It was casual. I only messaged you out of courtesy.”
I can’t believe this is happening. My legs feel like they’re about to give way beneath me. “So these last few years... I’ve just been your fuck buddy?”
“Isn’t that how you wanted it? So I didn’t interfere with your studies?”
His words cut through me like a knife. My maw thought she knew my da, only to discover he had a secret life. I, though, was sure I knew Lewis. I didn’t think him capable of a betrayal like this.
Tears spill down my cheeks. I don’t want him to see how much he’s humiliating me, but I can’t hold back my emotions. “How could you?”
He just shrugs—doesn’t even bother to answer my question with words. After twenty-one years of friendship, an indifferent shrug is all he offers as an explanation for why he’s tearing my heart apart.
I open my mouth to say more, but nothing comes. I can’t think what else to say. Unable to process this, I take a step back from him. Then, turning on my heel, I run away.