“That’s not your concern,” I say, though I’m not sure I could define what Kane and I are, even if I wanted to.
He nods, accepting this boundary even as pain flashes across his face. “I have a hotel room in the village. I’ll be there until tomorrow if you change your mind.”
“I won’t,” I tell him gently.
He moves toward the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. For all of it.”
“I know,” I say again. “But sorry doesn’t fix what’s broken between us.”
When the door closes behind him, I sink onto the sofa, emotions crashing over me like waves. Relief, sadness, anger, liberation—all mixed in a confusing storm. I don’t regret a single word I said to Mark, but facing him was harder than I expected.
A soft knock pulls me from my thoughts. “Kori?” Kane’s voice calls through the door. “Is everything okay?”
“Come in,” I called back.
He enters cautiously, his shirt now buttoned but still untucked. His eyes search my face. “You alright?”
“Yes,” I say, and mean it. “I am.”
“He’s gone?”
I nod. “Back to his hotel in the village. He leaves tomorrow.”
Kane sits beside me, not touching but close enough that I can feel his warmth. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” I admit. “But I will say this—seeing him made me sure. About the divorce, about moving forward. About not going back.”
“And us?” Kane asks, his voice carefully neutral. “What we were... doing before he interrupted?”
I feel heat rise to my cheeks at the memory. “I don’t regret that either,” I tell him honestly. “But maybe we should slow down a bit. A lot is happening right now—for both of us.”
He nods, though I can see disappointment flicker in his eyes. “Of course. Whatever you need.”
I reach for his hand, lacing our fingers together. “I’m not saying no, Kane. I’m saying not yet. Notuntil I’ve had time to process everything. Not until you’ve found your sister and gotten some answers.”
His thumb traces circles on my palm, sending little shivers up my arm. “I can work with that,” he says, a small smile playing around his lips. “I’m not going anywhere A stór."
The Gaelic endearment warms me from the inside. “Good,” I say. “Because neither am I.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, just holding hands and breathing together.
“The others will be back soon,” Kane finally says. “Should we tell them about Mark?”
I consider this. “They’ll find out anyway, I suppose. Small village, big gossip.”
“True. Though I doubt they’ll be surprised. Declan’s been expecting something like this since you mentioned your husband might come looking for you.”
“Declan doesn’t miss much, does he?”
Kane snorts. “No. It’s one of his more annoying qualities.”
As if on cue, we hear cars pulling up outside, doors slamming, voices approaching. Our moment of privacy is over.
“Ready to face the inquisition?” Kane asks, squeezing my hand.
I take a deep breath, centering myself. “Absolutely.”
The door opens, and the others file in, arms laden with grocery bags. They stop short when they see us sitting close together on the sofa, hands intertwined.
