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She meets me head-on, her tone filled with a soft, quiet rage. “Think, Callum.” ‘Tis terrifying. I’d prefer she shout at me.
Her head turns over her shoulder, gazing through the kitchen window behind her. The one overlooking her garden. Her eyes settle on the blue bowl she keeps on the deep shelf of the sill—her Mam’s bowl—her most cherished possession. One of my men told me she held it on her lap the whole ride over to the house.
Her mam, who was married to her father.
A long, hard marriage to a man who didn’t much care to look after his wife or his wee ones.
A bad man.
Her gaze returns slowly, meeting mine.
“No,” I say.
It can’t be…
Surely she doesn’t think…
Finally, I ask, “Ye think…I’m a bad man?”
“You lend my father money to gamble. Raise his debts. All to steal a bride who never agreed to marry you in the first place.” She takes one short, determined step toward me. “Tell me, Callum. What kind of man would you say that is?”
“I’m not like him.” I shake my head. “I’m nothing like him.”
She takes another step closer. “Putting your wants before my own. Like him.” And another step. “Putting the bottle before his family.”
“Your father has changed, gettin’ sober. And I’ve changed as well. You’ve taught me to listen. To earn your hand.” Distraught, I shake my head. “I thought you’d want to be here. I thought you would like it here.”
“I do,” she says. “And I do.”
“I’ve always wanted ye to be mine,” I confess. The truth settles in, barbed wire encasing my heart. “But ye don’t want me, do you?”
“No,” she says. And my world comes crumbling down. “Not like this. Not based on a lie. A plan that you made, then carried out. Yes, you’ve given me the world. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. This home, you and Freya, Chef and Nan, I love it all.”
“But you won’t try to love me?”
“Love? Is that what this is about, Callum?” Her gaze, bright and steely, narrows. “Or was your plan always about power and control?”
If she sees me as a monster, she’ll never see me for the man I am. One willing to do anything to give her a good life. She won’t trust me after this. A relationship without trust is nothing. She’s taught me, alright.
And now, I know what I need to do.
The hardest thing possible.
Let her go.
“I told you I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I promised to make you happy here but it looks like that’s impossible. You could never be happy with a monster, could you?”
She stares back at me, anger in her eyes.
I cross my arms over my chest, steeling my nerves. “If I’m such a bad man, go. Leave. Return to your father and tend to your garden. Live in your wee little house and live yer wee lonely life. Alone.”
“You’re an ass,” she hisses between clenched teeth.
I’ve never heard her swear, never seen her angry like this.
I swallow. Hard. I step back, leaning against the high part of the wall, creating space for her to walk past.
“Go,” I say. “Yer free to leave.”
