He signaled Marco, paid the bill despite my protests, and helped me into my coat. We walked to the car in silence, the night air cool against my flushed cheeks, and I was grateful for the dark to hide my face.
The drive back to Loren Brae was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Graham kept the music on, and I watched the dark countryside roll past the window, trying not to think about how much I wished this night didn’t have to end.
When we crested the hill and Loch Mirren came into view, I felt the familiar prickle at the back of my neck. The water was soft and still, reflecting the lights of the village in small smudges across its surface, and for a moment I could have sworn I saw something move.
I blinked, and it was gone.
“You okay?” Graham asked, glancing over.
“Aye, all good.”
He pulled up outside Bonnie Books a few minutes later,turning off the engine but making no move to get out. We sat in the dark, the ticking of the cooling engine the only sound.
“Thank you for dinner,” I said, my hand on the door handle. “It was... it was really nice.”
“Nice.” He huffed a laugh. “There’s that word again.”
“Graham—”
“I know. It wasn’t a date. That it’s not supposed to mean anything.” He turned to face me, and even in the dim light from the streetlamp, I could see the emotion in his eyes. “But Agnes. You are nevernotgoing to mean something to me.”
I was frozen, unable to make myself move. He was killing me with his words, slowly and surely, with no clue how he was twisting the knife.
“I had a really good time,” I whispered. “I always have a good time with you. That was never the problem.”
“Then what is the problem?”
Everything. The curse. The promise I’d made. The generations of my family who’d watched the men they loved disappear beneath dark water. The certainty that if I let myself have this—have him—the loch would take him the way it had taken everyone else. And the deep-rooted understanding that if I told him all of this, Graham would ignore every warning and insist on being with me anyway. To his own demise.
“I can’t explain,” I said. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”
Graham leaned in and pressed his lips to my forehead in a kiss so tender, that it shattered me.
“I’ll still be here, Agnes,” he murmured against my skin. “I’m not giving up on this. On us. Someday, you’re going to tell me why. Until then, I’ll be waiting.”
He released me and sat back, and I immediately felt the loss of his warmth like a physical ache. Fumbling for the door, I pushed it open before I did something stupid like straddling him in the car and kissing him until I couldn’t remember my own name.
I climbed out on shaking legs, fumbled for my keys, and somehow made it to my door and climbed the stairs to my flat, my mind spinning, my heart in pieces.
At my door, I paused. I didn’t want to go inside. Alone.
I heard Graham’s car pull away, knowing he was parking it in the lot behind the pub.
What I needed was fresh air and a moment to calm my racing heart. I hated feeling trapped. I was trapped by a promise I’d made and a curse I didn’t understand—and going inside just now would make me scream.
So, instead, I slipped back downstairs and out onto the pavement, pulling my coat more tightly around me as I sucked in the cold night air.
The streets of Loren Brae were quiet, most sensible people already home and tucked up for the evening. A cat watched me from a windowsill as I passed, its eyes gleaming as a streetlamp spilled light into the window.
Maybe it was stupid.
Okay, it was definitely stupid.
But, damn it, I wasmad.
And sad.
And so I went and stood at the edge of Loch Mirren, staring across her dark expanse, the surface of the water rippling in the icy winter wind. The moon was just a slivertonight, casting barely enough light to see by, and the lights from the village shimmered across the surface of the water.
