I hardly notice his occasional nods or Mac and Moira’s murmurs of understanding; I’m so wrapped up in the highs and lows of our time-traveling escapades. Just as I reach the part where Cal and I argue, he shifts in his seat, adjusting his T-shirt. I glimpse its whimsical logo: "Cyborgs Ate My Shortbread!"
That little absurdity catches me off guard. Knowing he won’t dismiss my story as a whimsical fantasy puts me at ease. The group’s genuine interest makes this wild ride feel a bit more grounded.
When I finally fall silent, Hamish lets out a low whistle.
“That’s quite an adventure ye’ve had there,” he says thoughtfully.
“I don’t know what to do next,” I confess. “Cal’s become my... my person! But now, everything’s one big mess.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Hamish ponders everythingI’ve said for a moment before responding to me in a gentle yet firm voice.
“If he means that much to ye, go to battle for him, lassie.”
Moira pipes up from the backseat, adding her two cents:
“Love is like haggis—it may look messy, but it’s worth digging in!”
I laugh from deep in my belly for the first time in a day, but all of their words make sense. They’re right. In all my confusion and anger, I lost sight of what truly matters.
With newfound resolve, I lean forward. “Hamish, take me to Loch Ness. I have a hunch that’s where Cal is, and I need to tell him I’m not giving up on us.”
Hamish’s eyes twinkle. “That’s the spirit! To Loch Ness, we go then!”
Mac and Moira clap and cheer from the backseat as Hamish puts the pedal to the metal. As we speed through Inverness like a Scottish cabbie’s version ofThe Fast and Furious, my mind races with thoughts of how to convince Cal that together, we can overcome any obstacle, no matter how absurd or time-bending it might be.
The cityscape is a smear of colors in my peripheral vision, soon replaced by rolling hills and sparkling rivers. With each passing mile, I can feel my resolve hardening.
Fear?
Doubt?
No room for those party poopers here. I'm ready to kick some Scottish butt for us and the chance to set things right—because Aven Valley deserves its fairytale ending just as much as we do.
When Loch Ness comes into view, its murky waters glinting under the barely-waning moonlight like liquid silver, I can feel my pulse pounding in my throat. Somewhere along that vast shoreline, I have a feeling Cal’s waiting.
“Could you hold my suitcase for me, Hamish?” I ask quietly, thinking to myself, “Possibly for about four hundred years?”
“Aye lass, dinnae sweat it.”
“Thank you,” I manage to choke out through the lump in my throat. “All of you... for everything.”
Hamish tips his cap with a smile that radiates warmth and understanding. “Go get him,” he says simply. “Love’s worth the risk.”
“Lace up those boots tight, lassie!” Mac bellows with enough force to shake the cliffs, while Moira chimes in with a grin:
“Ye’ve got this, girl! Go get your hunky Highlander!”
Their words ricochet in my head as I burst from the taxi, optimism mixing with determination.
My boots kickup the sand as I stumble towards the edge of the loch, goosebumps prickling my skin in response to the cool night air.
There’s Cal, silhouetted against the moonlit water, looking like he’s bearing the weight of the world.
“Cal!” My voice slices through the stillness. He turns sharply, kilt billowing, eyes widening with surprise and something else—relief.
“Mills? What are ye doin’ here?”
