They both nod, exchanging a look I can’t read.
“And you’re sure you don’t want to tell Jamie?” she asks.
“Yes.” And with that one word, everything changes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Jamie – Now
God dammit!
I hit the steering wheel and yell into the quiet. The car absorbs the sound and it’s almost as if it was never there. The dull thrum of the rain on the exterior drowns out everything else.
Without even knowing where I’m headed, I end up at the ferry terminal, and within fifteen minutes, my car is the last on the boat and I’m moving away from Skye—away from everything that just changed in my life.
Maybe if I can get far enough away from it, closer to home, I’ll feel some semblance of normalcy… But I know I won’t. There’s no going back. No changing what just transpired. No changing the fact that I have a son—that I’m a father.
I yank on the handle to recline my seat until I’m staring up at the roof of the car. Getting out and being around a single person on this boat isn’t an option. My emotional state would likely have them worried I’d jump off at any moment. I close my eyes and just breathe as I attempt to reconcile what I have believed for the last ten years with this new truth.
I can’t process this alone right now—I need my best friend. So, reaching for my phone, I type out a quick text before dropping it onto my chest.
Me
I need you
The phone buzzes against my sternum and I lift my head enough to answer and turn on speakerphone. I knew she’d call.
“Jamie? Are you okay? Is it your grandad?” Rory’s voice is frantic, though I can hear the sleep-addled undertone as well. It’s still the wee hours of the morning there. I can’t bring myself to apologize for waking her.
“No, he’s fine,” I answer. My voice comes out rough, like it’s been scraped raw and dragged through gravel.
“What is it, Jamie?” Rory’s voice pitches high. “You’re scaring me. Are you alright?”
“No. I’m not. I’m…” The words feel like glue on my tongue. “I have a son, Rory.” Silence. Absolute dumbstruck silence meets me from the other end of the line. “Are you still there?”
“Yes. Yeah, I’m here. I’m going to need you to repeat that though.” I hear her swallow and envision her attempting to compartmentalize what she’s feeling so she can be whatever I need her to be. That’s just the kind of person she is.
“I have a son. Lennox is my son.”
Lennox is my son.Will those words ever feel like less of a blow? I can’t imagine it.
“Alright, that’s what I thought you said,” she says, and I can hear clicking in the background like she’s on her computer. “I’m looking for flights to Scotland.”
“What? No, you don’t have to do that,” I say, sitting up so fast the blood rushes away from my brain and makes my head spin… And now I feel queasy again.
“I’ll wait to hit purchase until we finish this conversation, but I won’t hesitate if I think you need me there.”
Everything inside me loosens slightly at her words. I know she would jump on a plane, cancel any elopements she’s supposed to photograph, and be here tomorrow if I so much as asked.
“Thank you.” I resume my prone position, staring through the sunroof.
“Ready to fill in some details for me? I have a lot of questions,” she says calmly.
“You and me both,” I say with a choked chuckle. I pull off my glasses and squeeze the bridge of my nose. “His middle name is Jameson.”
“Okay…” she says. I’m guessing him sharing a name with me doesn’t seem like enough of a clue to have set this all in motion.
“His middle name is Jameson and he has my eyes and, god, all the things I thought felt familiar but brushed off because I was once a ten-year-old boy at the inn…” I know none of this makes sense, it hardly makes sense to me the way it all just clicked together. “But itwas Gran’s reaction. You should’ve seen her face, the apology written there, as the truth dawned on me.”
