Page 62 of Twilight Tides
I’d made a bad decision, and I was paying for it with horrendous regret and loss of direction.
Molly bid us goodbye a few minutes later and Taran flipped the open sign on the door toClosedso she could have her lunch break. Inside the small staff room, I turned the conversation to wedding plans.
“RSVPs are all in.” Taran took a huge bite of her sandwich. After she’d swallowed, she continued, “There’s no going back.”
“Not that you want to.”
“Goodness, no. But sometimes I wonder if we should have done what you and Murray did. Or even what Tierney and Ramsay did. Something small, quick. Private.”
I snorted. “The islanders would never forgive you. Quinn is their favorite son, and watching him get his happily ever after with you means a lot to them.”
Taran blew out a breath. “You’re right. I know you’re right. That’s why we decided to use some of the money we made on that pocket watch and put it toward the big wedding at the castle.”
My friend referred to an antique that was discovered in her mother’s belongings. Last year, Taran asked an antiques expert, Edward White, to appraise her mom’s collection. Unbeknownst to her, the creep discovered a very valuable pocket watch. White owed debts to an even bigger creep, Christopher Pollock. They attempted to steal the pocket watch, but Taran had put it in storage at her brother’s house. Pollock, an absolute bottom-tier moron of a criminal, held us both at gunpoint at the house, threatening to kill everyone if Taran didn’t give him the pocket watch.
He shot Edward White, who hadn’t signed up to be in involved in murder and had taken Taran, almost killing her before Ramsay and Quinn found them. Edward White and Pollock were both in prison now. And Taran and Laird’s mom’s pocket watch sold for a cool £15 million at auction.
“September will be here before we know it. Speaking of …” She went on to ask me if I was free at the end of next month to spend two nights in Glasgow. Taran had booked appointments at several bridal stores over a Friday and Saturday, but we’d need to stay over in the city. I was sure it wouldn’t be a problem, but I’d have to check with Murray.
“How is that going? You and him?”
As if he’d heard us, my phone vibrated on the desk between me and Taran, and Murray’s name appeared on the screen. I swiped it and saw it was a link to a song. My heart picked up pace with curiosity.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“So? How are things?” Taran reiterated. “How is Kelly?”
I explained the current situation and how I thought it best to give Kelly space. Give them all space. Taran frowned and pressed her lips together like she disagreed. In any other circumstance, I might have pushed her to be honest with me, but between how tired I was and feeling low in general, I didn’t want to hear anyone else’s opinions right now.
Our conversation turned to other things, even though my mind kept going back to Murray’s text. I wanted to know what the song was. What it meant.
As soon as I could, I made my excuses and tried not to hurry out of the shop, but once I was out the door, I picked up speed in the opposite direction. I took the path behind the store on the left that ran along the coast away from Leth Sholas. The coastal path was a great place to take in the wildlife. There were otters on muddy sandbanks that eventually gave way to small, sandy beaches. Puffins nested on the rockier parts of the coastline. Once, a few months back when I’d walked down here with Nee, we’d seen dolphins gliding through the water.
The lull of the lapping sea was soothing, as were the cries of the gulls above. But I hadn’t come out here to listen to the island. I’d come out here to be alone to listen to a song Murray Shaw had texted me.
For some strange reason, my fingers shook a little as I clicked on it. The song was called “Be the Bird” by the musician Rhodes. I’d never heard of him.
Beautiful acoustic guitar music filled the air, and a gentle male voice followed suit. I closed my eyes and listened to the lyrics. He sang about not letting me look back on my life and think I’d taken a wrong turn.
Tears thickened my throat.
The tempo increased as he told me I wassomeone, that I was born to fly high. He asked me to promise to keep fighting for the life I wanted.
Tears now wetted my cheeks as he sang about my being younger than him but that he listened to me.
Like he saw wisdom in me?
As I listened to the beautiful song through, I played it again. And again.
Feeling seen. Feeling cared for.
Feeling bolstered and braver because Murray Shaw thought I was brave. He thought I was something special.
And I wanted to prove him right.
It was somehow easier to blame myself for what Nick had done than accept this horrible person happenedtome, notbecauseof me. But I needed to learn to be kinder to myself. To believe in myself again. I couldn’t do that hiding in my own head.
