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Bored of listening to the phone beeps, he tossed it aside and lay down on the couch, draping a hand over his eyes as though he could block it all out.
It didn’t work. His mind raced, rehashing the past and imagining how different everything might be if he could just go back and change things.
CHAPTERTWENTY
Almost an hour had passed when the doorbell rang. Trystan stayed still, hoping whoever it was didn’t peer in the window. They’d clearly be able to see him. Listening for the sound of retreating footsteps, his heart sank when he heard the click of the door being opened.
After wiping his hands over his face, he pasted on a smile and sat up.
“Hi,” Beth said, sympathy flashing in her features. “I left Ellie with your mum.”
“Miss me already?” he said, forcing cheer into his voice. “I think I’d just nodded off.”
“Don’t do that,” she said, closing the door behind her and venturing further into the room.
“Do what?”
“Pretend to be cheerful when you’re obviously upset. I knew there was something wrong in the cafe. If you want to be left alone, I’ll go again. I’m worried about you though. Whatever’s going on, you can talk to me about it if you want.”
He was torn between not wanting her to see him when he was such a mess and wanting to tell her everything. When he didn’t say anything she sat beside him and tenderly kissed his cheek before wrapping her arms around him.
“Do you want me to leave you?” she asked, pulling back a couple of minutes later.
“No.”
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
He pressed his palm against his forehead. “Kind of. But you probably don’t want to hear all my family drama.”
“I would like to hear whatever you want to tell me,” she said softly.
It was difficult to even know where to start, so he took a deep breath and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“Lowen hates me.” He realised he sounded dramatic and that it probably wasn’t quite the truth, but it wasn’t far off. “That’s why he sent your mugs to the cafe instead of bringing them here.”
“He said he was busy with work. Maybe he just didn’t have time.”
“That’s not the reason. He won’t come anywhere near here. If there’s a special occasion – one of the family has a birthday or something – he’ll come over to St Mary’s but he’ll only meet us in the pub or a cafe or somewhere neutral. I keep going to visit him and hoping things will get better between us, but I think he might just hate me forever.”
“Why would he hate you?”
Standing, Trystan paced the room before stopping at the fireplace and resting a hand on the mantel. “We used to be really close. Lowen’s a fair bit older than me, but when we were kids I idolised him. As we got older and the age difference didn’t matter so much we were best friends. We lived together in London for a while before I moved in with Jenny. Even after that we were on the phone most days. Anytime I had a problem or there was anything going on in my life, he was the person I called.”
“What happened?” Beth asked when he stopped talking.
“When Dad went missing I was back here for the weekend. I’d had the cottage for a couple of years and was spending the odd weekend here. Lowen had bought the pottery studio, but he was still working in London. He spent a lot of time here and was talking about moving back. He was in London that weekend. Dad went out on the boat on the Friday morning …”
Trystan clenched his fists as the emotions of that day flooded back. “There were search parties out looking for him but by the afternoon I kind of knew he was gone.” Tears filled his eyes and fell down his cheeks when he blinked. “Mum was convinced he’d be found safe and sound on one of the smaller islands. She said there was no point in worrying Lowen unnecessarily and that we could tell him all about it once Dad was home.”
Pausing, he pushed his hands across his damp cheeks. “I thought someone should call him, but there was so much going on … we were all out searching and the whole day was frantic.”
“When did you finally call him?”
“We didn’t,” he said, tears stinging his eyes. “He called me that evening. He was excited about a date he was going on. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Part of me wanted to believe Mum was right and Dad would come wandering back home with some crazy story to tell. So I just got off the phone as soon as possible. Then I spent all night feeling terrible and called Lowen back first thing in the morning … or tried to. He didn’t answer the phone.” He chewed on his lower lip. “He’s never answered the phone to me since.”
“What do you mean?” Beth asked, sympathy shining in her eyes.
“One of his old school friends had messaged him, assuming he already knew what was going on with Dad.”
