—Jane, what you saw… it’s not what you think.
Ah yes. The classic line. The one in every script that features a romantic relationship right before the grand reconciliation. Except we’re not in a movie where everything gets resolved in three minutes of perfectly written dialogue.
—Really? Because what I saw looked a lot like your perfect ex-girlfriend glued to your lips. But maybe she was just checking if your wisdom teeth were still intact? She’s so thoughtful, that Heather.
He winces at my sarcasm.
—She kissed me without warning, Jane. I pushed her away immediately.
—Immediately after I caught you in your little private moment, you mean?
Hamish chooses that moment to bump his head gently against me, as if reminding me to breathe.
Callum takes a step closer, then stops again, uncertain.
—Jane, I swear I didn’t encourage anything. Heather came to talk to me about a professional project, and then she started talking about her feelings. I was explaining that I was happy with you when she threw herself at me.
Part of me wants to believe him. Another part—the more cautious one, shaped by years of disappointment in Hollywood—hears Alistair McKenzie’s voice in the back of my mind…A man incapable of real emotion.
—You know what’s funny? I say, lifting my phone slightly. I spent the day with a man who told me exactly that—that you’re incapable of real feelings for anyone. That our marriage is just a convenient transaction. And then I come home and find you with Heather.
His face pales.
—You were with who?
—Alistair McKenzie. He invited me to tour his distillery.
Callum’s fists clench, a vein pulsing at his temple.
—Alistair McKenzie contacted you directly? And you went without telling me?
—Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I needed my husband’s permission to leave the house, I snap. Besides, you were in meetings all day, weren’t you? Hard to consult you.
—This isn’t about permission, Jane. It’s about safety. McKenzie is my main business rival. He’s been trying for years to destabilize me—professionally and personally.
—And you don’t think that’s something you could’ve mentioned to me before? When exactly were you planning to tellme about your sworn enemies, Callum? After our fifth wedding anniversary?
I watch anger and frustration flicker across his face before giving way to something closer to resignation.
—You’re right, he admits, dragging a hand through his hair. I should have told you more about my professional life—about people like McKenzie. I… I’m used to handling those things on my own.
That simple admission disarms me a little—but not enough to let it go.
—What did he want? Callum asks, his voice edged with concern.
—To make me understand that our marriage is just a façade. That you’re incapable of love. Oh—and to offer himself as a sympathetic shoulder for the day I realize my life as a Scottish lady of the manor is just a gilded cage.
I let out a humorless laugh.
—The ironic part? He might be right. Maybe I’ve been telling myself stories, thinking our business arrangement turned into something real.
—Jane, Callum says, stepping closer again—this time with determination. Don’t let McKenzie manipulate you. That’s exactly what he wants. To plant doubt. To divide us.
—And Heather? Is she part of some grand conspiracy too?
He exhales slowly.
—No. Heather is acting for herself. She never accepted our breakup—let alone my marriage. She always believed she would become Lady McGregor one day.
