“Isn’t it?” Lachlan raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been hiding behind Agnes’s rejection for years. Telling yourself that there’s nothing you can do. Means you never have to actually put yourself out there and risk getting hurt again.”
“I walked her home last night,” I said through gritted teeth. “She knows I care about her. That I’ve waited for her, all right? There comes a point where you can’t push, lads. She has every right to not want to be with me.”
“Did she say she doesn’t love you?”
I paused, the question landing like a punch.
“She said...” I struggled to remember her exact words. “She said it doesn’t matter. It can’t.”
Lachlan and Munroe exchanged a look.
“That’s interesting,” Lachlan said slowly.
“How is that interesting?”
“Because she didn’t say that she didn’t want you. She said shecan’t. Isn’t that a big difference?” Munroe set his glass down. “Sounds to me like something’s stopping her.”
“Like what?”
“How should I know? I’m a distiller, not a mind reader. Ask one of our witchy women.” Munroe shrugged. “But I have learned a lot in business through the years, and I thinkwhen someone tells you no but looks like they really want to say yes, well, there’s usually a reason. And it’s usually not about you.”
I stared at him.
“Since when did you get so smart?”
Lachlan snorted. “The point, Graham, is that maybe you’ve been asking the wrong questions all these years. Instead ofwhymaybe you need to figure outwhatis stopping her?”
All I could see was Agnes’s face last night and the tears glistening in her eyes. The way she’d saidit can’tlike the words were being ripped out of her.
“I remember when she came back from uni,” Lachlan said, his voice going softer. “You two were like each other’s shadows.”
“We were perfect together,” I murmured, memories from that summer rushing over me.
She’d been different when she came back. Still Agnes—sharp-tongued and book-obsessed and beautiful—but there was something new in her eyes. A confidence. She’d grown into herself. And when she’d looked at me that first night at the pub, it was like she was seeing me for the first time.
Of course,I’d thought.Of course. There you are.
We’d been inseparable for three months. Three perfect, maddening, incredible months where I’d thought I’d finally found the missing piece I’d been looking for to complete my life.
And then she’d ended it. Out of nowhere. Said it was too much, too fast, that she needed to focus on the shop, that she valued our friendship too much to risk it.
I’d known she was lying. I’d seen it in the way shecouldn’t quite look at me when she said it. But what could I do? Demand she love me? Force her to stay?
So I’d respected her choice. Backed off. Not being able to hold her at her gran’s funeral had ravaged me. I gave her a wee hug, told her how much her gran had meant to me, and had stepped away.I still miss that wonderful old woman.
And then I’d put myself through the ultimate torment: trying to date other women and pretend I wasn’t comparing every one of them to the woman who’d shattered my heart.
“Even if you’re right,” I said slowly, “she won’t tell me what’s stopping her. I’ve asked. She just shuts down.”
“Then stop asking and start showing.” Lachlan spread his hands. “Try something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like actually pursuing her, you daft man.” Munroe rolled his eyes. “Ask her on a proper date. Not a casual grab a pint as mates thing. Flowers. Dinner. The whole bit.”
“She’ll say no.” I rolled my eyes. It was practically her favorite pastime at this point.
“Probably. But at least you’ll have tried something different.” Lachlan leaned forward. “Look, I’m not saying hound the woman. I’m saying show her you’re serious. That you’re not just pining from afar—you’re willing to put yourself out there, even if it means getting rejected again.”
