“It’s over,” he grates out, each word heavy with emotion. “Nothing left worth saving.” He digs into his pocket and shoves a handful of bills into my palm; his fingers linger before he steps back.
“Just go catch your flight. No use stickin’ around here.”
I stare at the crumpled Scottish notes in my hand, his brush-off triggering a surge of hot anger within me. His readiness to surrender everything we’ve built together is just… infuriating! I chuck the cash back at him, the bills fluttering down like discarded dreams.
“I can’t believe you’re folding so easily,” I snap back, words rising like mercury in a thermometer. “After all we’ve been through? You’re really going to walk away? I’m sure we can reverse this! We can change things!”
In Cal’s silence and fixed gaze lies an ephemeral shadow of disquiet. I see layers of doubt lurking beneath.
Is he holding back just because his family’s legacyis at stake? Or does it run deeper, a fear that he might not be able to shield me from the dangers of 1645?
The sky above us has blackened entirely, and rain starts to fall, its cold droplets mixing with the hot tears on my cheeks. I blink them away fiercely—I won’t let him see how much his rejection stings. The crumpled Scottish pounds strewn on the muddy ground between us twirl in the wind before settling down again.
Cal stoops to pick up a twenty-pound note and thrusts it into my hand. “Take it,” he says gruffly.
“Just catch a bus and go home.”
I shove the crumpled note into my pocket. “I don’t want your cash,” I holler, my voice shaking. I want you, you stubborn, maddening Scotsman! I want a future with you. How can you just give up on us?”
Cal winces like he’s been physically hit, his eyes glistening with tears he won’t let fall.
“Mills... please,” he pleads so softly that it’s almost drowned by the wind. “Dinnae make this more difficult than it already is. I have nothing to offer ye now. I am nothing now. Can’t ye see that?”
“No!”
My head shakes so vehemently that it’s a wonder it doesn’t fly off my shoulders.
“You’re not nothing, Cal! You’re shocked and frightened, but we can fix this together. We can salvage your family’s legacy and carve out a life here!Just don’t push me away now... not after everything we’ve weathered.”
“What do ye want from me?” His voice is an echo of desperation.
“I want you to shake off this self-pity party and fight for something that means something to you!”
His eyes flash with wounded pride and indignation. “You think I’m no’ fighting? This is me fighting—grapplin’ with reality—that sometimes what fate hands ye isn’t up for negotiation.”
“That’s Highland cow bull crap!”
I’m half-laughing at my own colorful language choice. “We’ve crossed time itself together, Cal! After everything we’ve survived, are you seriously telling me it’s too late to do anything about this now? That we should just give up?”
“Aye,” Cal replies flatly, his tone as cold as a Scottish winter. “Maybe we should before one of us gets hurt again.”
His words slice through me. This is it, I realize with an icy dread coiling in my stomach. This is how our story concludes; not with a fairytale ending but with a heart-twisting farewell under the drizzle.
I square my shoulders, letting the anger steady me. "You know what, Cal? If you're determined to stay miserable, then that's on you. But I won't beg for a space in your life when you're too scared to fight for it."
I take a deep breath, crossing my arms to holdmyself together. My voice is firm, even though my heart's breaking. "Love should push us forward, not hold us back."
With those words, I turn away, head held high despite the tears brimming my eyes. Each step I take feels like a dagger twisting in my chest and a declaration of my pride—a refusal to cling when he's already let go. As I walk, the wind tangles my hair. I wish he'd find the courage to love without fear.
My legs barely support me as I trudge down towards the bus stop at the village's edge, but I force myself to keep moving, to put one foot in front of the other.
As I lift my suitcase onto the bus back to Inverness, the rain starts pouring down; the droplets drumming against the windows in a sad symphony.
Hello again, Heartbreak. Goddammit! Is lasting love just a pipe dream for me?
The bus roars to life beneath me, pulling me away from Aven Valley; away from Cal. As the village recedes in the rearview mirror, I let myself cry, mourning a love found in the foggy corridors of time.
I wipe away tears as I steal a final glance at Cal’s formidable silhouette up on the hillside. As the bus lurches forward, I sink into a seat covered in rough tweed, feeling hollow and spent.
