Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
Beth hadn’t looked at Kieran properly since that night.
Scrub that. She’d actively ignored him.
Kieran drifted around the cottage, dodging the pile of laundry, the dishes piled in the sink, and the unfinished app work. Even Prom, perched on the arm of the sofa with his tail flicking in disapproval, seemed fed up.
‘You think I should say something?’ Kieran asked.
Prom blinked at him slowly. Judgement oozed from his furry frame.
Right. He paced the living room, feeling the cottage shrink around him. He could try the pub again, but the last two attempts had gone nowhere, and she’d ignored all his texts.
Kieran thought about how she’d disappeared. Left without a goodbye or explanation. He’d been chatting to Charlie about the future – kids, maybe, a family. The sort of conversation you only have with your best mate when you think no one else is listening.
But Beth had heard him. And she’d left.
‘Idiot,’ he muttered.
Prom yawned in agreement.
By evening he’d worked himself into a lather of self-loathing, so he headed to the pub.
‘Hi.’ Angela greeted him with a tight-lipped smile. Great. Kieran sensed he wasn’t in anyone’s good books at The Jekyll and Hyde. Even Jimmy at the bar side-eyed him – although that might have more to do with the whisky tumblers lined up in front of him.
Beth emerged from the kitchen, flushed and carrying a tray of food.
‘All right?’ he asked.
‘Yep,’ she said, striding past.
He waited till she’d delivered the food before approaching her. Tentatively, in case she whacked him over the head with the tray.
‘I’m busy,’ she snapped.
‘Beth, I know I’ve upset you. And I think I know what happened.’
Tension prickled the air, sticky and uncomfortable.
‘I think you heard something the other night,’ he said, finally. ‘Something that sounded … bigger than it was.’
Beth’s shoulders tensed, but she didn’t move away.
‘What I said to Charlie, I meant it in theory,’ he went on. ‘Like saying I might climb the Munros one day. All 282 of them. Obviously, not all in one day.’
Beth’s mouth twitched a fraction. She nodded towards a quiet area of the bar and set the tray down on a nearby table, fingers lingering on the edge as if she needed something solid.
‘You weren’t wrong,’ she said suddenly. ‘About kids.’
Kieran frowned. ‘Beth—’
‘No. Let me.’ She drew in a breath that shook on the way out. ‘It’s what I’ve always wanted.’ A brittle smile flickered and vanished. ‘I just don’t get to have it.’
The words landed between them, heavy and final.‘When I heard you—’ She gestured vaguely, unable to finish.
Kieran stepped closer, instinctively, then stopped himself, letting her set the distance.
‘I’m not broken,’ she added, her voice firm now, as if she’d rehearsed the words a thousand times. ‘But I am done. And I can’t be the reason for someone to give up the life they want.’
Silence stretched. The pub rumbled on, oblivious.
Kieran swallowed. ‘Beth. I haven’t forgotten what you told me. Not for a second. But the life you’re imagining, it’s not a dealbreaker. It’s not even the deal.’
Her brows knitted together, disbelief warring with hope.
‘I don’t want a checklist future,’ he said. ‘I want you. Exactly as you are.’ He paused, then added softly, ‘Anyone who makes you feel love is conditional on what your body can do is stupid. Dumb, and very, very stupid.’
Her eyes shone, furious and wet. ‘You really mean that?’
‘I really do. I wasn’t saying that I need children to feel complete. And there are other ways, by the way. Which I know you know. I was just babbling to Charlie, that’s all. And I’m so sorry that I upset you.’
Beth nodded, brimming eyes fixed on Kieran.
He took a step closer. Not too close: just enough that she’d hear him without straining. ‘I don’t know what my future looks like yet,’ he said. ‘Does anyone, really? But nothing I said meant you’re in the way of it. You’re … the bit that makes it make sense.’
‘I didn’t want to be a problem,’ she said quietly.
‘You’re not something I have to work around, like my stupid app,’ he replied. ‘You’re someone I want to be with.’
A faint, wobbly laugh escaped her. ‘You’re terrible at timing, you know.’
‘Consistently.’
Another pause. Then she stepped forward a fraction, enough for her forehead to rest lightly against his. He didn’t move, didn’t push, just breathed with her in the low rhythm of the pub.
‘By the way.’ Beth’s breath warmed his cheek. She stiffened slightly, as if her next words might seem flippant. ‘Your cottage has a name now.’
‘Really?’ Kieran raised an eyebrow. ‘Does it have anything to do with berries?’
She gave him a small, shy smile that punched him in the ribs. ‘Now I’ve visited it… Whiskers Rest.’
Kieran’s chest warmed in a way he hadn’t expected. ‘Whiskers Rest,’ he repeated. ‘Prom will love that.’
‘It suits him. It feels right.’
It did. More than he’d admit. And for the first time since Beth had walked out on that conversation, she didn’t look as if she was about to disappear.