Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Fuck.
“Did she say what? Kiera reckons she’s just nervous about uni and doesn’t want to admit it.”
“Nah, I don’t think it’s that. She talked about her friends a lot and there was something there. I can’t put my finger on what … but maybe ask if there’s something going on there.”
Girl drama.
Wonderful.
“Right.”
“She talked about Taran. Told me about the picnic.”
The picnic in which Taran excused herself within thirty minutes and barely looked at me when she said goodbye. “She only stayed for a bit. For Heather.”
Cammie smirked. “Heather’s quite taken with her. And she’s not stupid.”
“What does that mean?”
“She asked me outright if you used to date Taran.”
Bloody hell. I glanced over my shoulder. Heather sat in the front passenger seat, face buried in her phone. Angus was in the back, waving at me to hurry up. I turned back to my sister. “What did you say?”
She shrugged apologetically. “I didn’t lie to her, Quinn.”
“What did she say?”
“She got a little quiet … and then asked me if you still have feelings for Taran.”
My heart hammered. “And?”
Cammie pushed off the door with a roll of her eyes. “Like I would tell her yes. I just said she had to ask you that.”
“Aye, that’ll never happen. She doesn’t talk to me. Even when I ask what’s going on.” I scrubbed a hand over my beard, exhausted. Part of me was looking forward to getting back to work, and I fucking hated that because I’d never not wanted to spend time with my kids. But feeling like a failure wasn’t something I handled very well.
Cammie stepped out of her house, lowering her voice. “Quinn … have you ever considered that Heather doesn’t talk to you because you don’t talk to her?”
My indignation was instant. “Of course I talk to my daughter.”
“I mean talk to her about your feelings.”
I scowled, confused. “What feelings? About what?”
My sister scoffed. “Any feelings. She won’t talk to you about her feelings because you never talk about yours, so she’s learned to bottle them up.” Cammie held up a hand to ward off my defensive response. “Quinn, our parents never talked about their emotions or mental health. The only time we ever heard Mum express emotion was when Dad left. How many times have we heard Mum tell us she loves us? And that’s because her parents never said it. How many times do you tell the kids you love them?”
“They know I love them.”
“Aye, but do they? We think it, but we don’t say it. Being around Tierney and London has made me realize how little we say those words. They tell each other they love each other all the time. Tierney tells Ramsay she loves him all the time, and that is one man I thought I’d never hear say those words, but she brings it out in him.”
Still a bit confused, I huffed. “My kids know I love them. I’ve said it before. It’s something you say when you mean it. You don’t throw those words around. Tierney told Dougie she loved him after he wallpapered the B and B kitchen, for fuck’s sake.”
Cammie snorted. “True. But you know what I mean. Did you … ever tell Taran you loved her?”
I glared, pissed off, because she knew that was a no-go zone. “Of course I did.”
My sister, however, had always said and asked whatever she felt like saying or asking. “Did you tell her how much? Did she know you were devastated by the choice you felt you had to make?”
Was she deliberately trying to hurt me? “Cammie …”
“See!” Cammie winced, lowering her voice. “Even now, to me, your wee sister who knows you better than anyone … you can’t talk about your feelings. You’re so good at talking to everyone else about theirs, but when it comes to your own, you’re a closed clam. You’re locked up so tight. And maybe … maybe you need to think about that and how it’s affected your relationships. With everyone.” Her voice softened on the last and she patted my shoulder. “I love you, big brother. Good night.” She stepped inside and closed the door.
Leaving me dazed and winded by her observations.
8. Quinn
Afew hours later, despite his best efforts to stay awake beyond his usual bedtime, Angus’s head started to bob during our millionth rewatch of How to Train Your Dragon. Much like me as a kid, when Angus was out, he was out, so I shook him awake long enough to brush his teeth and change into his pajamas. He was already snoring by the time I drew his duvet over him.
I shut his bedroom door and exhaled, trying to shake the unfamiliar anxiety riding me.
Not once in Heather’s almost eighteen years on the planet had I ever felt nervous about approaching my daughter. But I hadn’t been able to get Cammie’s words out of my head. My sister was as loyal as they came, and she stood up for the people she loved … but she didn’t pull her punches with the people she loved either.