Chapter 30 #2
—Mr. McKenzie, I say, setting my glass down, I’m beginning to think this invitation had a purpose other than simple Scottish hospitality.
His smile shifts—more calculated now.
—You’re perceptive, he says. I am curious about the dynamics of the McGregor marriage. It’s so… unexpected. Callum marrying an American actress he barely knows, just before the deadline set by his father for inheritance. Quite the coincidence, don’t you think?
My heart starts to race. How does he know about that condition?
—There is no coincidence, I say as steadily as I can. We met, we fell in love, we got married. It’s that simple.
—Simple? he repeats with a quiet laugh. Nothing is simple with Callum McGregor, believe me. He’s a man who calculates every move, weighs every decision based on its impact on the family business. That’s what makes him a formidable opponent in business—and, I imagine, a complicated partner in life.
—I think I know my husband better than you do, I say, rising to my feet. Thank you for the tour, but I think it’s time for me to return to the castle.
—Jane, he says, standing as well, don’t misunderstand my intentions. I’m not trying to create problems. I’m simply offering a different perspective.
—One I didn’t ask for, I reply. Would you take me back to the castle, please?
He studies me for a moment, then nods.
—Of course. But before we go, allow me to offer you one last glass. Our most awarded whisky. Just to end the visit on a positive note.
I want to refuse, but part of me feels it would be rude to leave on open conflict. After all, he is a potential business partner for Callum’s family, and I don’t want to create unnecessary complications.
—One last glass, then, I concede, sitting back down.
He pours a measure of amber liquid and watches me closely as I taste it. It’s excellent—complex, smooth.
—What do you think? he asks.
—It’s delicious, I admit. The best I’ve had today.
—I’m glad you like it, he says, sitting closer than before. You know, Jane, you are a remarkable woman. Intelligent. Beautiful. I understand why Callum was interested.
His wording unsettles me, as does his sudden proximity.
—I should go, I say, trying to stand.
His hand settles on my arm—light, but insistent.
—Have you ever considered that perhaps you deserve better than a marriage of convenience with a man incapable of real emotion?
I stare at him, stunned by the audacity.
—I’m sorry?
—Come now, Jane, he says with a smile that makes me want to throw my whisky in his face. Rumors circulate. Your sudden marriage, the inheritance condition, your Hollywood scandal… It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, isn’t it? Or at least, that’s how it started.
I pull my arm free, anger flaring.
—You know absolutely nothing about my marriage, or my feelings for Callum.
—Perhaps not, he concedes. But I know Callum. And I know he doesn’t let anyone get close enough to truly know him. Not even Heather, who tried for years.
—Maybe he was just waiting for the right person, I shoot back. And clearly, that wasn’t you or Heather.
His expression hardens briefly before smoothing into a colder smile.
—You’ve got spirit. I like that. Listen, Jane—I’ll make you an offer. If you ever realize this marriage isn’t what you hoped for, or if you grow tired of life in the Highlands, call me. I could offer you—
—I’m going to be very clear, Mr. McKenzie, I cut in, standing. I am in love with my husband. I am not interested in your insinuations or your barely veiled offers. Now, if you don’t take me back to the castle immediately, I will find another way.
—As you wish, he says. But keep my card. You never know.
The drive back is steeped in tense silence. I’m furious at him for his insinuations—but also at myself for accepting this invitation without telling Callum. Now I understand why Jamison looked concerned.
When Alistair drops me off at the castle, he offers one last conciliatory smile.
—Thank you for today, Jane. Despite our disagreement, I enjoyed your company.
—Goodbye, Mr. McKenzie, I reply coldly, stepping out of the car.
I don’t look back as he drives away. I climb the front steps as quickly as I can. I need a shower—to wash away this lingering unease—and maybe a drink to steady my nerves.
As I step into the hall, I hear voices coming from the sitting room. One of them is Callum’s—which surprises me, since he was supposed to be gone all day. The other voice, softer, more melodic, is Heather’s.
Drawn by curiosity—and a sinking sense of dread—I move quietly toward the slightly open door.
—…always felt this way about you, Cal, Heather is saying, her voice thick with emotion. Even after all this time.
—Heather, Callum replies, tension threading his tone, we’ve already discussed this. I’m married now.
—A marriage of convenience, she insists. Don’t deny it—I know it was arranged. Maybe things have changed for you, but think about it—what do you two really have in common? You come from completely different worlds. Whereas you and I…
I should make noise. Announce myself. But something holds me there—some morbid curiosity, like slowing down to watch a car crash.
—That’s enough, Callum says firmly. Jane is my wife, and I—
I don’t hear the rest.
Because in that exact moment, Heather steps forward and kisses him, her arms wrapping around his neck.
The shock freezes me for a second. Then the sharp, searing pain that slices through me sends me stumbling backward. I knock into a small table that crashes loudly to the floor.
The noise alerts them. I hear Callum call my name, but I’m already running—out of the hallway, toward the front door, unable to face him.
The timing couldn’t be worse. After everything Alistair said—about our arranged marriage, about Callum’s inability to feel—seeing Heather in his arms feels like a knife to the chest.
Alistair… Heather… the pieces click into place with brutal clarity. They worked together. They got me out of the castle so Heather could get close to Callum.
I burst outside and head toward the gardens. I don’t have a plan. I just need air. Space. Distance.
Alistair’s words echo in my mind. A marriage of convenience… a man incapable of real emotion… Could he be right? Could everything I believed was real between Callum and me have been nothing but an illusion?
I finally stop beneath an old willow tree, breathless, my cheeks damp with tears I hadn’t even realized I was shedding. My phone vibrates in my pocket—Callum, most likely. I ignore it. I can’t talk to him right now.
But when it vibrates again and I glance down absentmindedly, it’s not Callum’s name on the screen.
It’s my agent.
—Hey, Max.
—Jane! My God, I thought you’d never pick up. How are you?
His voice—so familiar, that unmistakable Californian edge—feels like it belongs to another life.
—I… I’m fine, I lie. Why are you calling?
—I’ve got incredible news! he bursts out. Do you remember Martin Scorsese?
—The legendary director? Yeah, vaguely, I reply dryly—completely lost on him.
—He’s working on a new film—and guess what? Your name is on his list! Apparently, he saw that indie film you did two years ago—the one where you played that grieving waitress—and he was impressed. His assistant reached out to me.
The news, which would’ve had me jumping for joy a few months ago, feels almost unreal in my current state.
—Don’t get bogged down in details, he continues. The point is—this is it, Jane! Your big comeback opportunity! Casting starts in two weeks. You need to get back to Los Angeles. Now.
—Now? I repeat, stunned.
—Yes, now! It’s Scorsese, Jane! You can’t pass this up!
The way he completely brushes aside Callum—and my life here—should irritate me, but I’m too disoriented by the surreal timing.
—It’s not that simple, Max. I have a life here now. A marriage.
—An arranged marriage, right? he says casually. Look, you did what you had to do to get out of that media mess. Smart move, by the way. But now this is a new opportunity. You can come back and reclaim your real life.
Your real life.
The words echo strangely, tangling with Alistair’s insinuations and the image I just witnessed.
—I need to think, I say finally. This isn’t something I can decide on a whim.
—Don’t think too long, he warns. Opportunities like this don’t come twice. I’ll send you the details. Just… remember, your ticket back to Hollywood is ready. All you have to do is say yes.
After hanging up, I remain beneath the willow, trying to process everything that’s happened in the span of a few hours.
My marriage—something I believed solid and real despite how it began—feels suddenly fragile.
A career opportunity I once dreamed of has appeared at the worst possible moment.
And here I am, standing in the gardens of a Scottish castle, wondering where I truly belong.
A presence beside me makes me turn my head.
Hamish.
—Hey, you.
He steps closer and settles beside me. A few months ago, I had a full-blown fear of sheep—and plenty of other creatures, for that matter. And yet now, I find an odd kind of comfort in his quiet presence.
The sun begins to dip, casting long shadows across the grass. I should go back inside. Face Callum. Demand answers.
But something still holds me back. Maybe the fear that everything I thought I was building here is nothing more than a house of cards—ready to collapse at the first strong gust.
My phone vibrates again.
Callum
Jane, where are you? We need to talk. It’s not what you think. Please, come back.
The words seem sincere—but the image of Heather in his arms is burned into my mind. How am I supposed to know what’s real anymore?
As I stare at my screen, unable to decide what to do, a familiar silhouette appears at the far end of the garden.
Callum.
He’s looking for me. Walking straight toward me.
The moment of truth is here.
And for the first time in a long time, I don’t know whether our story is about to turn into a beautiful romance…
or a devastating heartbreak.