Lance has been texting me all weekend. We’ve chatted about everything and nothing. It’s easy to forget he’s only in his thirties. With his job and life experience, it puts us weirdly on the same level. The distance, the years, melt away to nothing. We both have so much to tell, neither more important than the other.
As I scroll through my newsfeed, Amy’s picture fills the screen. Not having spoken to her in a while, I hit call.
“Hello, Scottish adventurer. How are you?” she sings.
“Hey, Amz, I’m good. Loving it up here. The animals keep me busy. Writing plenty. Feeling settled.”
“Aw, Katie, I’m so pleased for you. I was so worried when you ran off up there. I’m glad it’s going well. Met anyone interesting?”
Amy is as subtle as a bulldozer. Her code forhave you met a man yet?
“Well...” I drag it out, and she shrieks.
“You have. Tell me he’s gorgeous and rich. Oh, fucking promise me he has red hair and talks in that sexy accent. Like that sex god off the TV. The one from history, who wears the skirt.”
Her excitement makes me hoot with laughter. “No TV fame. But he’s roasting hot. He’s in the Army. Scottish. He has a twelve-year-old daughter. And he’s fucking incredible in bed.”
“Lucky bitch. Tell me everything. Did you scream like a harpy? How did you meet him?”
“Um... he rescued me from a burn.”
“A burn?”
“It’s what Scottish people call a stream. I fell in. Anyway, he walked me home, we talked, he asked me out for dinner... and ended up on the mattress.” I snort, the details slipping from my lips too easy.
“Oh, my god. Send me a picture.”
“No pictures yet. But he’s gorgeous. Tall, like really tall, with a washboard stomach and strong arms. Tattoos. And he’s thirty-two.”
Silence.
She takes a breath. It’s not often Amy is lost for words. “Thirty-two? Like twenty years younger than you?”
“Seventeen,” I squawk. “I’m not fifty yet.”
She laughs warmly. “Good for you. Enjoy him. He sounds exactly like what you need in your life right now. Have you met his daughter?”
“Not yet. I’m not sure I will. He only came back from tour a few months ago… and found his wife in bed with an old friend.”
More silence. My eyes close in preparation for the onslaught. This she won’t like.
“What do you mean, his wife? He’s married?” Her tone turns from warm to harsh instantly.
“Separated,” I rush out. “It’s just a bit of fun.”
“Be careful, Katie. A newly separated action man sounds dangerous. I don’t want you hurt.”
“Careful is my middle name,” I protest to deaf ears. The idea of romantic stories makes me a sucker. She knows that. “Anyway, How’s Terry?”
Her breath hitches. “It’s been hard since we were told we most likely won’t have children. Terry’s really struggling. He’sgrieving. And it’s my fault.” Her voice cracks, a small sob escaping.
“It’s not, Amz. You’re grieving too. He needs to step up and support you,” I say. She cries. “If you need to get away, I’m here. Come to Scotland. Get some space. Clear your head. It would be wonderful to see you.”
“I might just do that.”
Chapter eleven
Lance