Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
“ W hat were you thinking?” Tom’s voice cut through the silence Ella had left behind. “Why involve me in this at all? Now she thinks I’m part of your scheme—she’ll want nothing to do with me!”
Gareth drew himself up, a flicker of indignation crossing his face. “We were thinking of family. Of bringing her home where she belongs.”
“Where she belongs?” Tom slammed his hand on the table, making the glasses rattle. “She belonged here because she chose to be here. Because she was building a life here. And you just destroyed that.”
“Now, lad?—”
“Don’t ‘lad’ me.” Tom pushed back from the table. “You had no right to manipulate her life like this. To manipulate mine. I trusted you.”
“Everything we did was for her protection,” Gareth insisted, a hint of stubbornness creeping into his tone. “If you could understand the importance?—”
“The importance?” Lissa cut in, fixing her husband with a disappointed look. “The importance of what, Gareth? Of controlling someone else’s life? Of deciding what’s best for them without their consent?”
“I was trying to help!” Gareth’s accent thickened with frustration. “She’s alone in the world, vulnerable?—”
“She’s a grown woman who was doing just fine before you decided to intervene,” Tom snapped. “And now she thinks everything we’ve built is based on lies.”
Aiden and Liam sat silent at the far end of the table, their usual banter absent. Even Liam seemed to realize the gravity of what had happened.
“Your intentions don’t matter,” Tom continued, running a hand through his hair. “Can’t you see that? It doesn’t matter that you meant well. You took away her choices. Her agency. Everything she’s come to feel for any of us—she’s going to question all of it now.”
“She’ll understand once we explain—” Gareth started.
“Explain what?” Tom’s laugh held no humor. “That you’ve been orchestrating her life like some kind of medieval puppet master? That you couldn’t just let her find her way here naturally?”
“There wasn’t time?—”
“There’s always time!” Tom’s voice rose. “But you couldn’t wait, could you? You had to control everything, just like you always do. And now you’ve ruined the best thing that’s happened to me since—” He broke off, turning away.
Silence fell over the room. Even Gareth seemed to deflate slightly under the weight of Tom’s words.
“I only wanted...” Gareth’s voice softened. “After centuries of watching our line dwindle, of losing connection to our blood... when I found her...”
“She’s not yours to find,” Tom said quietly. “She’s not a lost possession to be claimed. She’s a person who deserved the right to choose her own path.”
Lissa touched her husband’s arm. “He’s right, love. We should have trusted fate to bring her home in its own time.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Lissa said firmly. “Look what your meddling has cost. Not just Ella’s trust, but Tom’s too.”
Gareth sat heavily in his chair, looking his centuries for once. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“You never do,” Tom said. “But it always does, doesn’t it? Because you can’t help trying to control everything.” He headed for the door. “I need to try to fix this—if she’ll even talk to me.”
“Tom,” Aiden spoke for the first time. “We’re sorry.”
Tom paused at the door. “I’m not the one who needs to hear that.”
The door closed behind him with a quiet click that somehow hurt more than a slam would have. Liam whistled low.
“Well, brother,” he said to Gareth, “you’ve really done it this time.”
Gareth didn’t answer. He just stared at the empty doorway, looking for all the world like a man who’d tried to grasp stardust and watched it slip through his fingers.
Ella paced her small apartment, anger and hurt warring in her chest. The pendant, once a comforting weight, now felt like an anchor dragging her down into a sea of secrets and manipulation. How could the MacGregors, who had seemed so welcoming, so genuine, have orchestrated her entire life here?
She touched the silver knots, tracing their intricate pattern. Part of her longed to rip the necklace off, to throw it back in Gareth’s face and demand the truth. But another part, quieter but no less insistent, whispered that the pendant was hers, regardless of its history. That it represented something deeper than the MacGregors’ schemes.
A knock at the door startled her from her spiraling thoughts. She opened it to find Tom on her doorstep, his expression a mix of apology and determination.
“I know you probably don’t want to see me,” he said before she could speak, “but please, just give me a chance to explain.”
Ella crossed her arms, fighting the instinct to let him in, to let his steady presence soothe her as it always did. “Explain what? How you were part of this too? How everything here has been a lie?”
“Not everything.” Tom’s voice was firm, unwavering. “Not us.”
She wanted to believe him. Wanted it so badly her chest ached. But the betrayal was too fresh, the hurt too raw.
“How do I know that? How do I know anything here is real?”
Tom stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “Because you feel it, Ella. In every moment we’ve shared, every time we’ve talked or laughed or just been together. That’s real. That’s us.”
She shook her head, but her resolve was cracking. Because he was right—what she felt for him, the connection they’d built, the way he made her feel safe and seen and cherished... that couldn’t be manufactured. Not even by meddling Scotsmen with centuries of experience.
“Gareth went too far,” Tom continued, his hand coming up to cradle her face. “I won’t defend that. But Ella, you belong here. Not because of some ancient bloodline or family obligation. You belong here because you’ve made a place for yourself. With your students, with the town...” His thumb brushed her cheekbone, infinitely gentle. “With me.”
Ella felt tears threatening, the anger draining out of her, replaced by a bone-deep weariness.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“Believe in yourself.” Tom’s forehead rested against hers, his presence solid and sure. “Believe in the life you’ve built here, the difference you’ve made. Believe that you are so much more than their meddling.”
She let out a shaky breath, her hands coming up to grip his wrists. Anchoring herself in his strength, his certainty.
“I need time,” she whispered. “To process, to think.”
“I know.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, the gesture achingly tender. “I’ll be here, Ella. Whenever you’re ready. Because what we have? It’s worth fighting for. You’re worth fighting for.”
He left her with one last look, his eyes holding a promise. That he would wait. That he would be there. That he wasn’t going anywhere.
Ella closed the door and sank onto her couch, emotionally spent. The pendant caught the light, glinting silver against her skin.
Part of her wanted to call Bella, to rant and rage against the MacGregors’ presumption. But a larger part, the part that had been slowly putting down roots in Harmony Falls, whispered that she needed to confront this herself. To decide what she wanted, separate from ancient histories and well-meaning schemes.
She thought of Tom’s words, the conviction in his voice when he said she belonged. Not because of bloodlines, but because of who she was. What she’d built.
Slowly, deliberately, she unclasped the pendant and held it up to the light. The knots seemed to shift and dance, centuries of stories etched into the silver.
Her story, she realized. Her history. Hers to claim or reject, regardless of how it had come to her.
She wouldn’t let the MacGregors’ meddling taint that. Wouldn’t let their secrets overshadow the life, the home, the love she’d found here.
Reclasping the pendant, she took a deep breath. She had some thinking to do, some decisions to make. But for the first time since Gareth’s revelation, she felt a flicker of peace.
Because Tom was right. She did belong here.
And she wasn’t going to let anyone, not even well-meaning Scotsmen with a penchant for drama, take that away from her.
Not without a fight.