“But Iamsorry. Please let me explain. Please, Jamie,” I beg, searching his face.
His jaw is set tight, clenched as he struggles against what looks like the urge to scream at me. I deserve it, his anger. He stretches his neck, eyes closed, inhaling deeply, and I’m braced for the blow… But when he opens his eyes and they lock with mine, he gives me the smallest of nods. Relief floods me and my hands tremble against the hem of my shirt.
“When you left, I was a mess. You were my best friend and I loved you.” My chest tightens with those words because the last time I told him I loved him, he left me. I want to cry for the heartbroken girl Iwas then and for the heartbreak we’re both enduring right now. “We’d had sex and I was vulnerable, and all I heard when you walked away was that you didn’t want me.”
Jamie shifts, lips twitching like he might say something, but I keep going, needing to get this all out. “When I found out I was pregnant, that was the only thing I could think of—that you didn’t want me, and I had no reason to believe my being pregnant would change that. And what were you going to do? Move back just because I was pregnant…? No, I wasn’t going to force you into being with me. So, I made the choice. I decided to keep the baby and not tell you.” I let out a deep sigh. “My parents weren’t particularly thrilled with the decision.”
Jamie goes rigid, his expression hardening into something livid.
“Not about Lennox,” I say, knowing he misunderstood my words. My parents were never anything but supportive about Lennox, unlike my grandparents. “About you. They wanted me to tell you. But they respected my decision once it was made.”
“But your grandparents?” he asks, confusion crinkling his brow. “They had to have known. Why didn’t they tell—”
“They disowned me, Jamie,” I say quietly, interrupting him. “They disowned Mum and Dad too, actually. They were so ashamed of me.” My face falls and I watch my hands in my lap where I twine and release my fingers just for something to do with them. “They didn’t want anyone here to know, and when Mum and Dad stood by me, by my decisions, they told them never to come back to Skye to see them either. And we didn’t. I didn’t set foot on this island until they died last year and I came up to settle their estate. Last weekendwas the first time my parents have been here since they picked me up when I was seventeen.”
“But… your grandparents were the ones who told me you’d moved on, that it was your choice not to come back to Skye.”
My head snaps up. “When?” I ask, and squeeze my eyes shut because—what?
“When I came back,” he says evenly, like this news isn’t enough to rock me to my core.
Whendid he come back?
“When, Jamie?” I ask again, more firmly.
“That last summer. Before uni. You weren’t here.”
He came back?
I choke on a sob, covering my mouth with my hands, eyes squeezing shut. He came back and I— “I didn’t know you came back that summer,” I say, lowering my hands and lifting my head so I can face him.
He scoffs—a mean sound from deep in his throat. “You would if you hadn’t blocked me. Why the fuck would you do that?”
I deserve his ire, but it stings to be on the receiving end of it.
“I… It was a mistake. I knew I couldn’t just be your friend anymore, and I knew it would break me if you ever emailed me and tried to pick things up where we’d left off, and then with the baby… I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep from telling you—”
“Youshouldhave told me, Avonlea. You should’ve at least respected me enough to let me be part of the decision.”
Ouch. He’s right. I know he’s right, but…
“What would it have changed?” I say with a plea in my voice.
“Everything.” The sincerity in his voice breaks me. “It would have changed everything.”
“Exactly, and you would’ve resented me for it!” I yell, becauseI know this. That’s part of why I didn’t tell him. “Look at the life you have, Jamie. You wouldn’t have any of it. You didn’t want to come back to Scotland. You didn’t want me. You would have resented me… resented him.” I jab a finger in the direction of the inn. “I couldn’t have that.”
He shakes his head like he doesn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth, but I know they’re true.
“I loved you too much to do that to you, and I loved myself too much to do it to me, or to Lennox.” Tears spill over because that is the crux of it all. “In the beginning, I didn’t tell you because I was hurt and afraid you wouldn’t come. Then later, I didn’t tell you because I feared you would and you’d end up hating me for it.”
His posture sags as he rests his elbows on his knees, head bowed. “But I loved you too, Avi.”
He hasn’t called me Avi since he found out and I’m almost too focused on that to pick up on his other words. But then they click, along with the shattered look on his face when he lifts it to look at me.
“You—you what?” I stutter out the question.
“I loved you too, and I knew I’d screwed up. I knew it as soon as I got on that plane home, but by the time I worked up the courage to reach out to you, to apologize, you didn’t respond. I sent you so many emails that year. Then I came back for you, and you weren’t here.” He inhales, his eyes closing tight behind his glasses, like he’s bracing for what he wants to say next. “So I went to Glasgow.”
