— Fine, I reply automatically.
— Really? Because for the past few days, you’ve looked about as cheerful as a rainy day in November.
I shrug, unable to meet her gaze.
— I’ve just been busy.
— And that doesn’t include your fiancé? I haven’t heard anything about Alistair lately.
I fall silent, unsure how to answer. How do I explain that it was all a lie from the beginning? That our engagement was nothing more than a façade to satisfy her—and Alistair’s investors?
— We’ve had… some disagreements, I mutter.
— Disagreements, she repeats, unconvinced. I see.
She leans forward, her sharp eyes studying me as if she can read straight into my soul.
— Keira, do you know what I think about barriers?
I frown, thrown by the shift.
— No?
— I think most of them exist only in our minds. We build walls, draw lines, create borders… but for what? To protect ourselves? From what? Happiness?
Her words strike deeper than I want to admit. Isn’t that exactly what I’ve been doing? Building walls to protect Alistair… to protect myself… when all I really want is to be with him?
— It’s not that simple, Gran, I murmur.
— It never is, my dear. But trust me on this—pride makes for a very cold bedfellow.
Before I can respond, there’s a knock on the door. Jamison enters, his expression as impassive as ever.
— Forgive the interruption, Madam, Miss Keira. Mr. Alistair McKenzie is here and requests to see you.
My heart stops.
Alistair. Here. After everything I said. After the way I pushed him away.
— I… I can’t see him, I stammer.
— Of course you can, Maggie says firmly. And you will. Jamison, show Mr. McKenzie into the library.
— Grandmother—
— What? He is your fiancé, isn’t he? Unless there’s something you’d like to tell me?
Her gaze challenges me to confess the truth. But before I can find the courage, Jamison returns—followed by Alistair.
He stands in the doorway, looking both determined and exhausted. His hair is slightly disheveled, like he’s been running his hands through it all day—a habit he falls into when he’s stressed. He’s wearing a dark suit, no tie, and in his hand is an old, rusted metal box.
Our eyes meet, and for a moment, everything else fades—Maggie, the library, the world. There’s only him and me, and that electric tension that’s always existed between us.
— I’ll leave you to it, Maggie announces, rising. I have… things to do. Very important things.
The excuse is so terrible I might have laughed under different circumstances. But right now, I’m too busy trying to steady the erratic pounding of my heart.
The door closes behind her, leaving us alone.
