Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LEWIS
Now
I pick up a smooth stone, feeling its weight in my hand before sending it skipping across the water. Four bounces. Not bad, but I used to be better. I’m out of practice—it’s been too many years since I last came here to while away time doing nothing in particular.
Half an hour ago, I was at the hotel, pacing around the office, humming and hawing over how to play things with Iona. I really wanted to nip across the road to see her, but I thought it might be weird to pounce on her the day after her split with Richard. Then again, I also thought it’d be weird not to acknowledge the split at all. I couldn’t make up my mind about what to do until the solution hit me, and I grabbed a piece of paper, scribbled a message on it, and stuck it to my bedroom window: Fancy a chat? Meet at our old place?
Just like hanging out at the loch, leaving messages in my window is something I haven’t done in a long time. This way, though, if she wants to speak to me, she knows where to find me. And if she doesn’t want to speak to me... well, she doesn’t have to show up. I’ve no idea if she’ll come or not.
With a flick of my wrist, I send another stone sailing across the water. Three bounces—that’s worse! Maybe it’s not my technique that’s at fault. I’m possibly not picking the right stones. Okay, this time I’ll find a really good one, then I won’t have any excuses.
I’m lost in my search when footsteps crunch on the pebbles. I look up, and my heart does a wee flip. It’s Iona. Blonde strands have escaped her bun and blow across her face in the light breeze. God, she’s beautiful, even in a cosy oversized knit sweater and a pair of well-worn jeans. She doesn’t say anything as she approaches, just offers a tentative smile. My chest tightens with both hope and uncertainty.
“Hi.” I consider hugging her then think better of it—that would probably be too much. Instead I sit on a patch of grass and pat the ground beside me. “Fancy chilling here for a while? For old time’s sake?”
She glances at the tree. “What happened to the swing?”
“Oh, that went years ago.”
She nods and tucks a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. “That’s a shame. Kids always had fun with it, and today’s teenagers could really do with a place to come when they need to escape everyone for a while. We liked coming here.”
“Aye, we did.” I make a mental note to get a new swing and put it up asap. Why didn’t I think of that before? That might have impressed her.
She sits, leaving a bit of space between me and her, more than she would have when we were teenagers. She looks out to the loch, which glistens in the afternoon light. “A lot has happened since you and I last came here.”
“It really has.” I watch the loch too, my eyes following a few gentle waves until they break against the shore. “Remember when Bannock and the countryside around it were our entire world? Things were... simpler then. Life became more complicated when you went off to Glasgow.”
She pushes her glasses up and glances at me, her lips curling ever so slightly. “More complicated, but also more fun, no? Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy the things we got up to. When I asked you to put a glow-in-the-dark condom on your dick, you barely even hesitated.”
Her bluntness takes me by surprise, but I drop my gaze and chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck. “Aye, those were definitely fun times. You always had the... brightest ideas about how to spice things up.”
This earns a small laugh from Iona. “Good one.” She pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “You know, Richard was such a sweet guy, but he never was a fan of a dick joke. And frankly, if you can’t laugh at a penis, you’re taking life too seriously.”
“Hmm, was it Confucius or Aristotle who said that? I always get the ancient philosophers mixed up.”
“Neither. That bit of wisdom is an Iona Stewart original.”
“Wow, really? You should be printing that on inspirational posters. I reckon the Otter’s Holt would stock them.”
Jenny, the owner of Bannock’s gift shop, typically sells much classier items. That being said, although my suggestion isn’t serious, I could see her carrying a few of those for a touch of cheeky charm.
“You must have been living by that motto for a while now,” I add. “The first time you clapped eyes on my penis, you laughed. A lot.”
Given our history, I don’t know if this is a brave or stupid thing to mention. Then again, it was Iona who brought up the glow-in-the-dark condom. I’m just trying to keep the giggles coming.
“Aye, well...” She holds her thumb and index finger a few millimetres apart.
“Bollocks! You never had any complaints about my size. You were in stitches because it looked like I’d dipped my cock in radioactive goo.”
Another peal of laughter escapes Iona. Man, it feels good to make her laugh—even if my dick is the punchline. But I suppose, back when we were together, it always was, wasn’t it? When it wasn’t giving her pleasure, she was playing games with it.
“It really did look radioactive!” she agrees. “Ha, I can still picture it. And then I made you dance, and you shook it all about.”
She giggles some more, and I chuckle along. I didn’t expect for us to get onto this topic—and certainly not so quickly—but reliving the incident doesn’t bother me. As Iona said, if you can’t laugh at a penis, you’re taking life too seriously.
“So...” Iona repositions herself, turning her body to face me. “Did you invite me here just to talk about dicks or was there another reason?”
“Another reason,” I assure her. “In fact, discussing dicks wasn’t on the agenda at all—consider that a bonus. I thought we could maybe talk about... things. In general. I, er, was sorry to hear about you and Richard.”
“I bet you were devastated,” Iona says drily.
I give a nervous grin then say, “Richard actually came to speak to me yesterday. He said he wants you to be happy, and... that’s what I want too.”
“Is it? That’s funny coming from the man who shattered my heart into tiny little pieces.”
And with these words, the mood changes. A palpable tension creeps between us, and it’s really pretty uncomfortable—but that’s okay. We need to talk about this if we’re ever going to move past it.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I think we should discuss what happened that day.”
“You mean when you broke up with me by text message then fucked another woman just a few hours later? An incident that hurt me so badly I gave up my plans to return to the Highlands after uni and stayed in Glasgow instead. You want to talk about that?”
It’s impossible not to wince at the venom that’s crept into her voice, even though she’s perfectly entitled to speak this way.
“Aye, I do,” I say quietly.
“All right. Whatever you’ve got to say is coming six years too late, but I’ll listen to it. I’ll give you my time, although I’m not sure you deserve it.”
It’s hard to believe we were laughing at dick jokes just a few minutes ago. This is already painful, and it’s only going to get worse, but we have to do it.
“First, I want to be clear that I’ll never try to justify what I did. It’s beyond justification—I’m fully aware of that. And like I say, I don’t expect you to forgive me. But maybe I can make you understand some of what was going through my head at the time.”
Iona picks up a stone and traces its contours with her thumb. “I know you were grieving, Lewis. I’ve always sympathised with your loss, but it isn’t an excuse.”
I hang my head. “Aye, I know. But... can I talk about it anyway?”
She gives a curt nod.
I wipe my hands on my jeans—my palms are already a little sweaty. “Looking back now, it’s clear I was going through some sort of self-destructive streak. As we just discussed, it’s not an excuse, but I missed Maw and Da. More than that, I felt guilty that I stayed home that night. They were killed and Jamie was badly injured, while I was fine. Because I made up an illness so I could be with you.”
Iona continues to fidget with the stone, watching me, waiting for me to go on.
“I didn’t think I deserved to be happy, but you were so good to me. You came back to Bannock to see me as often as you could, and you called and messaged me every day. You tried so hard to help me cope, but I didn’t want to cope. That was the problem. Just thinking was painful, so I tried to do as little of that as possible. I sacrificed my emotional health and went all in on physical health instead. The strain and burn of lifting weights became an obsession for me—the best way to escape my thoughts.
“But every day, you were there, in person or over the phone, so persistent, never giving up on me. You tried to make me see that, as impossible as it seemed, I would get through it. Aye, I’d never not miss Maw and Da, but I would find it in me to be happy again. And... maybe I didn’t believe you. Maybe I thought I deserved to suffer. I don’t know, really—I wasn’t myself back then. But in my twisted logic at the time, I came to believe that I had to cut you out of my life. Your unwavering support was like salt in the wound. It made me feel , and I was trying so hard not to do that.”
I take a long breath in and then out. “All right, with that intro out of the way, let’s get on to that day.”
Iona’s steady gaze reveals nothing. When we were younger, I thought I was pretty good at reading her face, but now I’ve got no idea what she’s thinking.
“There was this... lass.” I close my eyes for a moment. God, this hurts, but I have to tell her everything. “Well, a woman—probably about the age we are now. Northern Irish, although I think she said she lived in Scotland—Ayrshire, maybe. In any case, she was doing a driving tour of the Highlands and was only staying in Bannock for a night. She thought the town was a bit boring... apart from me. She took a shine to me and was pretty flirty. She had no idea I was seeing someone, of course, and I...” I rub the back of my neck. “... didn’t mention it.”
Iona’s brows knit together, her lips pressing into a thin line, but she still doesn’t speak.
“By this point I’d been trying to push you away for weeks, but you wouldn’t let me—you were too good a friend. You just wouldn’t give up on me, and I knew you never would, unless... I hurt you. I had to do something so bad that even you, with your seemingly limitless empathy and patience, wouldn’t be able to forgive me. So, aye, I messaged you saying we were through, put my phone on silent, and then... pursued this woman.”
This really isn’t easy, but I force myself to press on. “I knew, when I checked my phone again later, I’d have missed calls and messages from you. And I knew they’d all be telling me that I was being stupid, that I shouldn’t end things. My plan was to call you back, or maybe message you, and explain that I’d slept with someone else. That would be the final nail in the coffin. It never occurred to me that you might skip uni and drive straight up to Bannock.”
“But I did,” Iona says coolly. “Lewis, this is more or less what I thought happened. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve told me a few details I didn’t know—like she was Northern Irish, for example. But I didn’t need to know that! None of this changes my view of what you did.”
I scratch my arm. “Aye, I get that. And like I’ve said a few times now, I don’t expect you to forgive me. But... there are a few more things I should probably say.”
Eyes narrowed, she tilts her head—a silent signal for me to continue.
“So, I invited her to my room intending to have sex with her. And that’s terrible, obviously. I’ve been beating myself up over that these last six years. But... I didn’t actually do anything with her.”
Iona raises a brow. “What?”
I shrug. “I couldn’t. She was hoping for some fun, and instead she got a moody, grieving guy who, when it came down to it, didn’t want to be touched by her—or to touch her. We lay in bed, clothed, and she kept on trying to kick things off, but I wasn’t interested. Eventually, after a fair bit of pestering, I let her take my T-shirt off so she could see my muscles. I shouldn’t have done that, but just so we’re clear about what happened, she reached out and felt my pecs, and I flinched away. That’s the extent of what took place between us.”
Iona’s body stiffens, the colour draining from her face. She swallows hard.
“Anyway, before I could get her out of my room, there was a knock at the door and... it was you. I opened up knowing exactly what you’d think. I was such an arsehole, but at the time I thought everything was working out for the best. I was able to push you away without actually having to sleep with someone else. Of course, after you burst into tears and ran off, the poor woman I messed around left too. And... that’s all there is to tell.”
I let out a long breath. That wasn’t easy, but it does feel good to finally get it off my chest.
Unfortunately, not only did I make Iona cry back then, but in telling the story now, I’ve done it again. Her eyes well up, and a single tear trickles down her cheek. Then, in a sudden flash of anger, she lashes out and slaps my arm. “You bastard!”
Whoa! I deserve that—nah, I deserve far worse—but I’m not used to violence from her. It takes me by surprise.
“For the last six years, you’ve led me to believe you ended our relationship via text message then fucked another woman a few hours later. Now you’re telling me that didn’t happen?”
“Well... I did end our relationship by text. And I did invite a woman back to my room. Sure, I didn’t sleep with her, but—”
“You’re acting like that’s some minor technicality. It’s not! It’s a bloody big deal. It completely changes how I view what happened. You can see that, right?”
“I shouldn’t have invited her back to my room full stop. It was a really, really shit thing to do.”
“It was,” she agrees. “ Really shit. And I’d have been fucking furious with you at the time even if I’d known you’d only let her touch your chest. But the pain and hurt I’ve carried these last six years...” She covers her heart with her hand. “Six years, Lewis. Six fucking years!”
“I’m... sorry,” I offer, fully aware of how pathetic this sounds given the torment I’ve put her through.
She presses her fingers to her temples, takes a few deep breaths, then yells out, “ Fuck! ”
The scream shatters the tranquil calm of the loch. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Iona drop the f-bomb so many times in such quick succession. I suppose the situation calls for it, though.
“You...” Apparently, she can’t think what to call me. Instead of a word, she lets out a strangled cry then clenches her hands into fists.
I’m fully expecting to be hit again and am quite happy to be her punchbag, but suddenly it’s like the fight goes out of her. Her shoulders slump, and then the dam bursts. She removes her glasses, wiping at her eyes.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve hated seeing Iona cry. My instinct is to wrap an arm around her and comfort her. Back when we were younger, I’d have done that without a second thought. If she’d really been upset, I’d have gone off and baked a cake for her. But in those days, I wasn’t the one responsible for her pain. Now I am.
Through sobs, she says, “For years I hated any visit to Bannock. Since you lost your parents, Maw has tried to look out for you, Ally, Jamie, and Cat, a bit like a surrogate mother. She’s kept the tradition of McIntyre and Stewart family meals going, which has meant I’ve had to share a table with you—eat with you—after what you did. Or at least, after what I thought you did. And even though I was hurting inside, I continued to keep everything that happened between us a secret, out of some misplaced loyalty to my childhood friend. I didn’t want other people to hate you the way I did.
“But now... now I learn my entire understanding of that event was wrong. I’ve carried so much needless pain, Lewis! Why didn’t you tell me this before now?”
“I...” I clear my throat. “I didn’t think I deserved to be forgiven.”
“Jesus.” Trembling, she swipes a finger beneath each eye. “I need to go away and think through all of this. It’s a lot to take in.” She gets to her feet, her movements shaky.
I stand too. “Shit. I’m sorry—again. You... do whatever you need to do. I feel so bad for making you cry.”
She nods and, without another word, walks away, leaving me alone by the loch once more.