The Highland Fling(104)
“So you’re going to go back home . . . to your parents?” Dakota follows closely behind me but doesn’t help.
“Yup, can’t wait to hear them tell me ‘I told you so’ multiple times, every day, until they die.”
“Bonnie, there has to be something we can do. Maybe you can find another town out here.”
“And what? Work? Pretty sure I need some kind of work visa for that, and I don’t think they’re going to provide one to someone who just came from working at a coffee shop. Face it, Dakota, I’m bound for California, and there is nothing you can do.”
I’ve finished up with the chairs and have started to move toward the counter when Dakota stops me.
“I’ll come with you, and we can figure something out.”
“We’ve been over this. You are not coming with me, not when you have Isla here.”
“You can’t go back to your parents—you’ll be miserable.”
“Not as miserable as I would be staying here and seeing Rowan all the time, working for his mom.”
Dakota looks off to the side. “But you love working here.”
I walk back over to the counter, where I hoist myself up and scan the space one more time. Regret fills me. I don’t want to leave this, not even a little, not when I feel like I’ve found my purpose, what I’m good at. “Yeah, I know. Today was so amazing with all the tour buses pouring in. I can’t believe we sold out by noon. Just the kind of send-off I needed.”
Dakota is silent for a second, and then she turns to me, a serious expression on her face. “What am I going to do without you, Bonnie? I can barely keep it together around Isla. I need you here.”
“You don’t need me. You’re so much stronger than you think you are, and when you do feel weak, Isla is there to build you up. I don’t think I could have picked someone better for you. She’s perfect, and when you two get married one day—because I know it’s going to happen—and you’re standing hand in hand, both of you wearing beautiful white dresses that blow in the breeze, I’ll remember the day you showed me the ad for two coffee shop employees and know it was the best decision we ever made.”
“But you’re leaving—how was it the best decision for you?”
I smile. “Because I’m leaving here with confidence, something I haven’t had in a very long time. I’m leaving here knowing I made a change, knowing I helped you, I helped Finella and Stuart, and maybe even helped this town. I’m also leaving here knowing exactly what it feels like to love someone. I’m a changed woman, Dakota. You were right: I needed to find myself, and Scotland might have been the place to do that.” I smile to myself, tears welling in my eyes. “I found myself, and that right there will help me get through the heartache of losing Rowan.” At least, I’m hoping it does, because it’s going to take a long time to get rid of this burning, aching hole in my chest.
“I’m not saying I like that you’re leaving, but I am proud of you. You’ve created such a brilliantly cozy space for the town and for tourists. Very proud of you, Bonnie.”
“Thank you.”
“And frankly, I know you’re hurting now, but I believe you’re strong enough to get over Rowan. You know . . . if you want to stay and give it a try.”
I quietly chuckle and shake my head. “I appreciate your encouragement, but I think it would be too much. And hey, Finella gave me her email address and said to use her as a reference. For all future jobs. Not sure what I’ll do, but at least I’ll have that to help me out.”
“Yeah.” Dakota wraps her arm around me. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too, but it’s for the best. Honestly, I couldn’t stay here even if I wanted to. I now truly know what a broken heart feels like.” I blow out a shaky breath. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. How about we just enjoy some cake one last time?”
“Is there any left?”
I playfully nudge her. “I snagged one of the cherry cakes. You’ll be short one tomorrow.”
“Great, it only took everything in me to make those.”
We laugh as I hop off the counter and take the cake out of my hiding spot in the bakery chest.
I pop open the top of the to-go box. “In my head, we each take a half, but I’m thinking we work our way to the halfway mark?”
Dakota reaches for the plates. “Let’s just call it like it is. Split it and plop a half on each plate.”
“And that is why I love you.”
After cutting the cake right down the middle, I give each of us a half, and we lean against the counter. We clang our forks together and dig in—just as the door to the shop opens.
Both of our heads whip to the entrance as Rowan steps inside, closing the door behind him. Hair styled, button-up shirt hugging his torso, jeans clinging to his thighs with the cuffs rolled, making room for his classic boots. My breath catches in my chest at the mere sight of him, and I realize something: not only do I love him, but I really don’t know if I’m ever going to get over him.
“Rowan,” I say, sounding like a breathless fool. “What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?”
“Uh, Dakota and I are having a girls’ night.”