Chapter 32
JANE
Dinner is quiet. Isobel and Maggie exchange concerned glances, Keira tries desperately to keep the conversation alive, and Callum and I carefully avoid looking at each other. It feels like we’ve been dragged back to the very beginning—two strangers forced to share a meal.
—So, Keira begins with forced enthusiasm, Jane, Callum told us you visited the McKenzie distillery today. How was it?
I nearly choke on my wine. Of all the topics she could have picked…
—Interesting, I reply vaguely. I learned a lot about the whisky-making process.
—McKenzie is as charming as he is devious, Maggie comments, peering at me over her glasses. Never trust a man whose smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
—I’ll remember that, Maggie, I answer politely.
—He’s always been that way, Isobel adds. Even as a child, he was manipulative. I remember when he and Callum were in school together.
—You were in school together? I ask Callum, surprised.
He finally lifts his gaze from his plate.
—Yes. For a few years. We weren’t friends.
—Callum beat him in the regional math competition finals, Keira adds proudly. Alistair never got over it.
—That was twenty years ago, Callum points out.
—Some grudges never fade, Maggie declares solemnly. Especially when they’re fueled by jealousy.
I think back to my conversation with Alistair, the way he spoke about Callum, about our marriage. Was it really jealousy? Was he trying to turn me against my husband out of pure resentment?
—Speaking of grudges, Keira says, smoothly changing the subject, does anyone know why Heather left so quickly? She seemed rather… upset.
The look Callum gives her could melt Arctic ice.
—I told her her presence was no longer welcome, he replies curtly.
—Oh, Keira says, glancing at me.
The meal drags on in heavy silence, broken only by awkward attempts at conversation. I’ve rarely experienced such an uncomfortable dinner—and I once attended a Hollywood charity gala where my date ditched me halfway through the evening to leave with a waitress.
When dessert is finally served, Maggie sets her spoon down with a decisive clink.
—Well? When are you going to tell us what’s going on? she asks, looking from Callum to me.
—Grandmother, Callum warns.
—Don’t “Grandmother” me, young man. I’m too old to sit through this charade at my own dinner table. The two of you are looking at each other like strangers, and the atmosphere is colder than a Scottish January.
—This isn’t the time, Callum insists.
—On the contrary, this is exactly the time, Isobel interjects—to my great surprise. You’re married, for heaven’s sake! Whatever your disagreements, you should be able to talk about them instead of subjecting us to this icy silence.
I stare at my mother-in-law, stunned by this unexpected display of… what, exactly? Concern? Frustration? A simple desire to restore order at her table?
Callum looks at me, a silent question in his eyes. I give a slight nod.
—Jane received a professional offer, he announces. An important role in Los Angeles.
A stunned silence follows.
—You… you’re thinking of leaving? Keira asks, the first to recover.
All eyes turn to me.
—I haven’t made a decision yet, I reply, uncomfortable under the sudden attention.
—But you’re seriously considering leaving Scotland? Isobel asks, her tone unreadable.
—It’s a remarkable opportunity, Callum says before I can answer. The kind that comes once in a career.
I glance at him, surprised by how readily he seems to accept the idea of me leaving. Does he actually want me to go? Or is this his way of showing respect for my ambitions?
—I see, Maggie says, her sharp gaze shifting between us. And what exactly is this extraordinary role that would justify abandoning your husband and your new family?
—Grandmother! Keira exclaims. You can’t say that!
—Of course I can, Maggie shoots back. I’m eighty. I say whatever I like.
—This isn’t about abandoning anyone, I say, feeling the need to defend myself. It’s… complicated.
—Life is always complicated, my dear, Maggie says more gently. That’s why we need people who make it simpler—not those who make it harder.
Her pointed look tells me she’s not just talking about my decision to stay or leave—but about something else. Someone else.
—I think Jane and I need to talk in private, Callum says abruptly, rising to his feet. If you’ll excuse us.
He leaves the room without waiting, leaving me momentarily frozen. After a brief hesitation, I stand and follow him, acutely aware of his family’s eyes on my back.
I find him in his study, standing by the window, staring out at the Scottish night. He turns as I enter.
—I’m sorry about that. My family has never quite grasped the concept of privacy.
—It’s… it’s fine, I reply, lingering near the door, uncertain.
Silence settles between us—heavy with everything we’re not saying.
—You’re going to leave, aren’t you? he asks at last, his voice calm.
—I haven’t decided, I protest.
—You should go, Jane. It’s the opportunity you’ve always dreamed of.
I study him, searching his eyes for something real. Does he want me to leave? Or is he trying to be noble—to “set me free”?
—What if the opportunity I’ve always dreamed of has changed? What if it’s no longer a role in a film—but something else?
He steps toward me, then stops a few feet away.
—Jane, I don’t want to be the reason you don’t pursue your ambitions. I don’t want you to stay out of obligation—or worse, out of pity.
—Pity? I repeat, stunned. You think I would stay out of pity?
—I don’t know what to think anymore, he admits. After everything that happened today—with McKenzie, Heather, your agent… I don’t want you making a decision you’ll regret.
—What if my only regret would be leaving you? I shoot back, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
His expression shifts—hope flickering briefly before he masks it again.
—Jane…
—No, let me finish, I say, stepping closer. I’ve spent my whole life chasing a dream, Callum. Wanting to be seen, admired, validated by an industry that changes its mind overnight. And somewhere along the way, I forgot to ask myself what I actually want.
I take a steadying breath.
—I’m not thinking about leaving because of Alistair McKenzie or Heather.
I’m thinking about it because I’m afraid.
Afraid that what we have isn’t strong enough to survive the real world.
Afraid that one day you’ll wake up and regret marrying a clumsy American actress instead of a perfect Scottish Lady.
—That’s ridiculous, he says.
—Is it? Look at us, Callum. We’re so different. I talk too much—you don’t talk enough. I act before I think—you analyze everything to exhaustion. I turn every disaster into a funny story—you turn every success into a lesson in humility.
I step even closer, until I can almost feel the warmth of him.
—If I leave now, it’s easy. A closed chapter. An interesting experience. But if I stay—if we keep going—and one day you realize this isn’t what you really wanted…
My voice breaks on the last words, revealing the truth beneath everything. Not fear of missing my chance in Hollywood—but fear of giving everything to this relationship, only to watch it fall apart.
Callum looks at me for a long moment, his blue eyes searching mine as if he’s trying to find something hidden there.