She strode away and sat down on a rare find—an empty bench overlooking Duck Island. I followed, contemplating the petulant twist to her mouth and trying to tamp down my answering irritation.
Thankfully, Mom took a few minutes to gather herself before she spoke. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“Wrong.”
Her head whipped around, her hair flying around her shoulders. Blue eyes snapped fire at me. “You don’t believe me.”
“I think you’ve confused you not wanting to get hurt.”
“I was protecting you.”
“You were protecting yourself.” I was impressed by my neutral tone. “What you did was selfish, and I lost sixteen years with my father because of it.”
“I knew it,” she hissed, eyes narrowed. “I knew he would turn you against me. You’re so like him.”
I glared back. “Mac didn’t turn me against you. Mac didn’t even lay blame at your feet. He gave me the facts, and I drew my own conclusions. And you can either be a grown-up and admit that you fucked up and hurt me … or …”
“Or what?”
I shrugged miserably. “Or we go on as before.”
“But?”
“What do you want me to say, Mom? That I can just forget this and forgive you for lying to me for sixteen years?” Tears filled my eyes. “You stood by and watched my heart break and you could have done something to stop that. But your feelings were more important.”
Tears spilled down my mom’s cheeks and she swiped at them, embarrassed. Looking away from me, I heard her harsh breathing and knew she was trying to get herself under control.
We sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, staring at the water.
Finally she looked at me. “I’m not a perfect person. And I’m sorry if you think I put myself before you when it comes to your father. My only excuse is that he was the first man to break my heart, and it scarred me. I wasn’t thinking straight. Even when Seth tried to tell me I was doing wrong by hiding those letters and gifts from you … I was so sure I was right.” She licked her lips nervously and surprised me by whispering, “I’m so sorry I did that to you.”
Relief I didn’t even know I needed swept through me.
Yes, people could shock the hell out of me.
But sometimes that might be a good thing.
I reached for my mom’s hand and held it between mine.
Hope lit her eyes.
“I forgive you,” I whispered. “I forgive you, Mom.”
Her lips trembled as she covered my hands with her other.
We both knew it wasn’t quite as simple as that. That forgiveness was a complex concept and it didn’t work alone. Forgiveness was inextricably connected to time. But I had to trust that with time, my love for her would chip away at my resentment.
As we watched the ducks, I vowed to let go of the past. Mac was back in my life, after all. And he wasn’t going anywhere.
When he’d dropped me off at Inverness Airport, he’d hugged me so long, I thought we might meld together eventually. I hated how desolate he’d looked, like he thought I wasn’t coming back.
And while the thought of being anywhere near Lachlan Adair was a knife in the gut, I’d experience that pain as long as it meant seeing Mac again.
“I have to go back to Scotland once the trial starts,” I told Mom.
She nodded. “And to see your father.”
“Yeah. I want to spend time with him. Annually if possible.”
“What happens after the trial?”
“Traveling. For my business. The travel photographs are selling well.”
“They’re beautiful.” Mom patted my hand, pride in her eyes. “Seth has his eye on one for our anniversary present.”
I grinned. “Mom, you can have any picture, anytime you want.”
“It’ll be nice as a present,” she assured me.
“How’s Regan?” I asked tentatively.
Mom sighed wearily. “Who knows. I got an email from her last week and she said she’s in Rio.”
“As in Brazil?”
Mom’s lips turned down at the corners. “I assume so.”
“Do you want me to try calling her again?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Seth and I had a chat about that too. You have enough on your plate with this Lucy Wainwright case. Your stepfather and I will handle Regan.”
A slow smile prodded my lips.
Mom’s brows furrowed in curiosity. “What?”
“Nothing.” I rested my head on her shoulder and watched the people in the park. “It’s just sometimes … change is good.”
Change is good, I repeated to myself, thinking how Lachlan was now little more than a stranger to me.
Change is good.
And one day, I hoped I’d feel that way about him too.
39
Lachlan
The rain battered against his body as he jogged along Ardnoch Beach. He didn’t care. The pelting sting of it bouncing off him was satisfying. For four weeks, he’d felt numb, going through the motions, doing what needed to be done.
Members were returning to the club in dribs and drabs, but the suites and lodges were fully booked over June, July, and August. Things were returning to normal.
And what a miserable existence it now was.
Gunning it up the sand dunes at speed to make it to the top, Lachlan jogged onto the trail that led past both estate lochs and up toward the castle.
Through the blurry precipitation, Lachlan saw a figure waiting near the path that led from Loch Ardnoch to the castle. The platinum-blond hair gave her away.
Arrochar.
Slowing on approach, he noted despite outfitted for the weather, her hair was drenched and the rain lashed off her rain jacket. “What are you doing?” he called to her. “Get back inside!”
She ignored him and he halted before her, aggravated. “You’ll catch your death, Arro, what are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” His sister scowled. “You thought going for a jog in this weather was a good idea?”
Actually, he did.
“Inside.” He put a hand on her shoulder, turning her toward the castle.
