‘I think maybe he hates me,’ she murmured.
‘Who?’
‘My dad.’
A pause. ‘Of course he doesn’t. You’re the most important person in his life. He talks about you all the time when we’re out hiking.’
A tear trickled down her cheek. She was powerless to stop it, bones so tired she couldn’t muster the energy to wipe it away. He did it for her with the delicate pad of his thumb. Even with her lids shut, she could feel his frown searing into her.
‘He thinks I’m like my mum. I left him like she did.’
‘He could never think—’
‘He said it,’ she interjected. ‘Today, he said I’m just like her.’
Struan’s touch paused over her jaw. She opened her eyes to find his forehead wrinkled, lips pursed. Angry. With her, like everyone else was, because all she did was make messes, even without meaning to. She abandoned people without realising it, hurt people just by being her scattered self. Even now,she felt as though she was doing something terrible just by being here without Martha knowing. Just by feeling what she felt for the man in front of her.
Only then, he said her name so gently she almost crumpled, and she realised he was mad. But not at her. ‘Your dad has no right to say that. You’re nothing like her.’
‘You don’t know her.’
‘I know enough. I know you’re ridiculously talented and clever. I know you have the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. He should be proud of you, not resentful.’
‘Even if I left him behind?’ An echo of his words in the car the other day. They’d clung to her since. Despite her own mother’s abandonment, she’d never paused to think she might have unknowingly caused the same pain.
Struan’s head tilted. ‘That was never an attack on you, sweetheart. Every parent knows that they’ll eventually have to watch their kid live their own life. Look at my mum. She was happy enough to move away. It’s all just part of it.’
‘I thought I’d come home and everything would make sense again, but nothing does.’ Least of all Struan, someone she’d never even considered wanting before. Everything had shifted in her absence, and she had nobody to blame but herself. ‘I’m not a part of his life anymore. I’m not part of anyone’s life. You’re so good, Struan. You take care of everyone. I wanted to do that for the farm, but I don’t think I’m capable of it. I don’t think he even wants me to.’
Her tears were flowing too fast for him to catch, now.
‘Come here.’
It sounded like a plea, so she did, falling into his lap on the floor and letting him hold her. He raked gently through her hair, stubble rubbing against her skin, the smell of the soil clinging to every bit of him. It was the only place she’d felt even remotely at ease, and not just since coming home.
Since ever.
When he pressed a kiss to her temple, she nestled further into him, wishing she could stay like this forever, where nothing could touch her but the golden warmth and tenderness that radiated from him. Maybe it was wrong to take advantage of it, but she’d forgotten that comfort could be found somewhere other than the icy-cold walls of a storage freezer or the rough carpet under her bed. Maybe she’d even let herself cry a little bit longer tonight.
‘You’regood, Rae,’ he said. ‘You always have been. Your dad probably already regrets what he said.’
She pulled away to look at him, stomach coiling when she realised his hard thigh was pressing into her core. Gulping, she leaned closer, waiting for him to kiss her.
He didn’t, though she saw realisation darkening his features. ‘Not like this, sweetheart. Not tonight.’
Of course. Why would he want her when she was a drunk, crying mess?
Embarrassment searing through her, she clumsily pulled back, using the armchair to support her. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I already told you, you don’t need to be.’
She wiped her nose, sniffling. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’ It was him who had changed her, him who was making her fall apart with feelings she hadn’t even realised brimmed inside her.She moved into the sort-of-kitchen, palm pressing into the cold wooden countertop. ‘I’m going to go to the bathroom, and when I come back, I’m going to go to sleep and we’re going to pretend this never happened.’
‘Of course. Your favourite way of fixing things.’ His gaze fell to the floor, jaw pulsing with tension. ‘I can’t keep doing this, Rae. I don’t want to pretend anything. Not with you.’
Understanding trawled too slowly through her addled brain. Theyhadto pretend, otherwise this would happen again. The falling apart, the sex, things that weren’t allowed. Things that Martha would have to know about. Things that Rae wasn’t prepared to tell her.
‘I’ll give you whatever you need,’ – he rose to his feet and inched closer – ‘but I’m not going to ignore what’s happening between us.’
