— She’s perfect for you. Don’t ever let pride make you lose what truly matters.
With that, he walks away to join my mother, leaving me momentarily speechless.
The room gradually comes alive again, conversations resuming as champagne flows freely. But in the middle of the cheerful chaos, Keira and I exchange a knowing look.
Without a word, we slip away quietly toward the terrace.
Outside,the sun is beginning to dip, bathing the Highland hills in that light you only ever find here. From the terrace of McGregor Castle, you can see both estates stretching out below—on the left, the ancestral McGregor lands with their rolling hills; on the right, the McKenzie property, the distillery’s copper roofs gleaming in the evening glow.
But what strikes me most is the absence of any visible boundary between them. From here, they seem like a single, harmonious landscape, as if the division had only ever existed in our minds.
— It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Keira murmurs.
— It is, I agree, though my gaze has shifted to her instead of the view.
A faint blush warms her cheeks as she notices.
— Who would’ve thought, she says, playing with her new ring, that we’d end up here when I first walked into your office that day?
— Certainly not me, I admit. I thought you were the most irritating person I’d ever met.
— And I thought you were an arrogant, insufferable snob.
— I probably was.
— Probably? she laughs. Definitely.
I laugh with her, then my expression softens.
— You know what’s ironic? We started with a contract—a professional arrangement, a signature on a legal document. And now…
— Now we’re celebrating another contract, another signature, she finishes. But this time, it’s not just ink on paper.
— No, I say, taking her hand, feeling the ring beneath my fingers. This time, it’s a signature on our hearts.
She rolls her eyes, but her smile gives her away.
— That’s unbelievably cheesy, McKenzie.
— I know. But it’s true.
We stand there, hand in hand, watching the sun slowly sink over our now-united lands, over the future we’ve chosen together.
Down in the garden, I can see Hamish and Rosita in their enclosure with their lambs—those two stubborn creatures who, simply by following their instincts, somehow played a part in all of this.
Sometimes, I think sheep might be wiser than we are.
— What are you thinking about? Keira asks, catching my smile.
— I think Archibald and Elspeth would be proud, I say. We finished what they started.
— And started something that’s ours, she adds, turning toward me.
— Exactly.
I lean in and kiss her again, sealing that promise as the sun disappears behind the hills, leaving the sky to the first stars beginning to shine.
Our story, like our whisky, is only just beginning. And like it, it will only get better with time.
