Chapter 70 Alec #2
I don’t remember the last time I cried. I must have been a child. My dad punished tears out of me when I was very young.
Cameron pushes closer. I jolt as his hand cups my cheek. “Fuck sakes,” he growls. “Look at me. It’s fine.”
“What?”
His eyes are shining too. “It’s fine that you’re crying,” he mutters.
“It’s fine you’re sad your dad died. It's fine you’re sad I got hurt.
I didn’t realise just how…” His face twists.
“He blamed you, didn’t he? The night he died.
He didn’t die straight away. I heard you talk to him. He said something to you.”
I can’t speak. I just nod.
Cameron’s eyes bore into me. “What did he say?”
“That…” My mind seems to stall, like it doesn’t know how to process the memory. I’ve never told anyone this. I barely even let myself think about it. “That it was my fault. That I’d killed him, and my mum. That raising me was a waste of his life.”
Wetness on my neck. Pain in my hands. A crack in my chest that will never, ever go away.
Cameron’s thumb ticks gently over my cheek, bringing me back. “He was the worst kind of man,” he tells me frankly. “He abused you. And he was wrong. You’re not a waste. You’re a good man, Alec.”
“I’m not good. I hurt you,” I rasp. “I hurt him. I hurt Summer—”
“I forgive you for hurting me. As long as you stop acting like I’m your Goddamn victim, I forgive you. He hurt himself. And as for Summer…” He trails off, looking over my head. “Huh.”
I turn. Fraser is standing in the open doorway, Summer’s lamb in his arms, staring at us both.
“Well, thank God,” he shouts. “It only took you five years to have one conversation.”
I rub my wet cheek. “How long have you been standing there?”
He shrugs. “Few minutes. This wee one escaped again, she was headbutting the door. But I came in and didn’t want to interrupt.” He stomps over to us and crouches down at my side. “Go on,” he says. “Don’t let me stop you.”
I swallow thickly. “Fraser. I’m sorry. I screwed everything up.”
“Define ‘everything.’”
“The storm. The farmhouse. The council. I should have asked for help sooner. I should…” I look at the fluffy white lamb in his arms. “I should never have told Summer to go,” I admit. “I know it hurt you both.”
“Nah,” he says simply. “It’s on me and Cam too. We should have told her how important she was. That she was so much more than just some…holiday fling for us. Our relationship shouldn’t have been left in your highly incapable hands, to be fair.”
Cameron swears under his breath.
“So,” Fraser says patiently, “what do we do now?”
Neither of us says anything.
“What do you have here at Lochview?” Fraser prompts me. “Honestly?”
I rub my throat. “What do you mean?”
“Are you happy?”
“Happy?” The word feels foreign in my mouth.
Fraser’s lips press together. “Is this what you wanted? Cameron’s quit. Summer’s gone. And I can’t do this forever. I’d go eventually too.”
I stare at him.
“You’d be alone,” he continues grimly. “Working on your family legacy in memory of a dad who treated you like dirt. It’s not like you’re ever gonna have a family here.
You’ll grow old alone and probably keel over from a stress-induced heart attack in your fifties.
” He leans forwards. “So…Are you happy, Alec? Is it all worth it?”
I don’t know what to say. Growing up, whether or not I was happy was never a question. All that mattered was the farm. I was quite literally born to manage it. It’s the whole point of me.
Crumpet wriggles out of Fraser’s arms and hops over to me. She lays her head on my knee, looking up at me with a dopey expression. I feel like I’m about to choke.
“God, I miss her so much,” Fraser says quietly. “I fully fell in love with that girl.”
Cameron nods. “We all did.”
The lamb nudges me, and I put a hand on her head, my heart thumping hard.
They’re right. Of course they’re right. I love Summer. “How—” I swallow thickly. “How would we even get her back?”
There’s a long pause. Then Fraser lets his head fall back. “Finally!” he shouts at the ceiling. “Jesus Christ, you are such a stubborn git! I thought I might actually die before you came around.”
“She won’t respond to your calls,” I remind him. “I don’t know her address.”
“We’ll find her,” Cameron declares.
Fraser beams at him. “Actually…” He hooks his phone out of his pocket. “I happen to know where she’s going to be tonight.”
“What?”
He waves his phone. “Her friend has been posting about this party she’s throwing. If we leave right now, we’ll make the train in time to crash it.” He waves at the posters scattered across the dining room table. “Means we’d have to give up campaigning, but…”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say decisively. “We go to her.” The campaigning wasn’t working, anyway.
It’s time to come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably lose Lochview.
There are a few other farm owners that I trust scattered across the UK.
I can make sure the sheep have good homes.
The animals are all that really matters. If I lose the land, so be it.
“We should plan to be there a while,” Cameron says slowly. “We can’t just appear in London and expect her to come back with us.”
“I’ll call Lewis in the village,” I agree, snapping into work mode.
Now I’ve made the decision, all of the next steps feel obvious.
“Isla said that she’d help out in a pinch.
Dr Kenzie…” I run through a mental list. Honestly, it feels like half of Dalbrae has offered to help out on the farm at some point or another.
I check my watch. “You two should pack. I’ll meet you out by the front in thirty. ”