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“Okay, okay. Is that the brain emptied now?” Vivi asked knowingly.

“Yes, I think so,” Jenn said with a half-smile.

“Right, first things first. Amazing that you’re having a great time up there. That you’re loving Hellisay, the job, and finding fabulous ladies like Lizzie and the crew.” Vivi blew a kiss to Lizzie through the screen.

Lizzie grinned and blew her and Jenn a kiss back.

“That’s what you should be doing. This was your chance to reset, not figure out the rest of your life. That’s way too much pressure.” Vivi was on a roll now. “And—if you can get your brains banged out while working through some shit? Why not? I get that Ruairidh isn’t a Javi, but it seems to me like he’s not putting pressure on you. He’s evaluating things too. And honestly? He’s a more positive influence. He’s grounded. Steady.”

“So why do all you amazingly grounded people put up with me? What do I even contribute?” Jenn asked, her voice wobbling slightly.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Lizzie shot back, outraged. “Look what you’ve done at the airport. Look what you’ve been part of in the community. You’ve been an absolute bestie to me—and you gave me a girl squad. I didn’t have anyone until you came along and set up the yoga classes.”

Jenn’s eyes pricked and her throat tightened even more.

“You give me cake. Delicious, amazing, best-cake-ever cake!” Lizzie added with a grin. “And now I can do a bloody headstand—even if my tits nearly choke me!”

They all collapsed into laughter.

“Preeeach!” Vivi applauded from the phone. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, Lizzie. Jenn, I love you. You are loved. How many times do I have to say this? You’re incredible and beautiful and kind and talented and lovely—all of those things. You need to stop comparing your life to everyone else’s and thinking you should be ticking off some invisible checklist.”

Jenn felt herself welling up, Vivi’s words striking somewhere deep.

“The Hellisay idea wasn’t because we thought you were failing at life. It was because you seemed unhappy, and you needed a wee nudge to start focusing on you again.” Vivi’s voice grew louder and more passionate as she spoke, her face going delightfully flushed.

Jenn blinked rapidly, tears falling despite her best efforts. Her hoody sleeve came up automatically, faintly scented with cake and coffee, and she dabbed clumsily at the corners of her eyes.

“And I know I don’t show it much—everyone thinks I’m this put-together robot superwoman—but you’ve been there for me so many times, Jen-Jen. You’d drop everything if I needed you. You’ve been there through the lows, not just the highs. Your love and support keep me going.”

“Oh my God, girls!” Jenn was full-on happy sobbing now, her hoody already damp from wiping away tears.

“I’m not crying, you’re crying!” Lizzie laugh-cried, dabbing at her eyes.

“Me too!” Vivi wiped her tears on what looked like a hotel pillowcase.

“Love you, girls. Thank you,” Jenn said, ugly crying but smiling.

“Love you too! Both of you!” Lizzie and Vivi chorused, both laughing and crying at the same time.

Jenn sniffed and fumbled for a tissue, too late to save her poor, sodden hoody. Brilliant. First proper ugly cry in ages and she looked like a snotty twelve-year-old at a school disco. Yet somehow, in the middle of this mess, she’d never felt more seen. Her chest felt stretched to bursting, raw but warm, as though her ribs couldn’t quite contain it all.

But if you couldn’t ugly cry in front of your best girls, when could you?

Chapter 32

The fire crackled in the hearth, embers shifting like old secrets, casting flickering shadows across the low-beamed ceiling. Outside, the wind howled across the machair and slammed against the cottage windows like a wave crashing into rock. It had knocked the power out a few minutes ago, but Jenn didn’t mind. She’d lit a dozen candles—tall ones, stubby ones, even a glittery one she’d meant to save for Christmas—and the whole cottage now glowed like something from a film set.

Thank God she’d finished the last of the baking before the power cut. Trays of blueberry scones and fresh gingerbread biscuits sat cooling on the counter, filling the air with sweet, buttery comfort. Various cupcakes were iced and boxed and ready for tomorrow’s shift.

She padded into the living room, two fresh mugs of hot chocolate in hand, steam curling in the candlelight. Real chocolate—none of that powdered nonsense. She’d even added a splash of Ally’s whisky.

Ruairidh was sprawled on her sofa, legs stretched out, his broad frame taking up most of the space. Morag was curled against his hip like a tiny queen, like she’d claimed him permanently. He’d shed his boots at the door and pulled off his jumper earlier, leaving him in a soft, slightly-too-tight T-shirt that made her forget her train of thought more than once.

He accepted the hot chocolate with a grateful hum as Jenn curled her legs beneath her on the opposite end of the sofa. What really got her, though, was the book in his hands. Bright pink cover. Curlicue font. A title that screamed Sin at Sunset in lurid gold foil.

Jenn raised a brow. “Really?”

He didn’t even pretend to be embarrassed. “Found it on an Inverness flight last month. Some poor soul left it behind. I felt obligated to rescue it.”