Page 65 of The Version You Hide

“Of course it was,” I mutter.

The demanding tone she uses with me is unappealing. “You know how happy it would make your father if you just came back to the Abbott Group.”

I have no doubt it would make my father ecstatic, but at what cost? I’d be trading my own happiness for his.

“Mum,” I sigh. “I’m trying to forge my own path in life and all I keep hearing about is how much I’ve disappointed you all. I’m sorry I’m not the son Dad envisioned I’d be, but I’m happy here.”

“You could be happier,” she retaliates. “And you know what your father is like. I’m worried if things don’t go his way, he might resort to something drastic.”

“I doubt it.”

He’s already disowned me from the family. What else could he possibly do?

“I’m not so sure,” she says. “You know what he’s like when he gets upset, Dylan.”

“But he shouldn’t be upset.” I’m losing my patience now. “I’m a grown adult capable of making my own decisions.”

I hear her scoff from the other end of the line. “You sure have a funny way of showing it. You’ve bruised his ego. His pride is damaged.”

His pride? What about mine? “What are you talking about?”

“He’ll be retiring in a few years from now. How do you think it looks to the world that his only son doesn’t want to take over the family business. Surely, you’ve seen the things that are circulating in the press. The things they’re saying about you.”

“I’ve never paid attention to gossip, Mum.” I groan, hanging the towel around my neck. The wooden floorboards creak below my feet as I move down the hall to the shower. “And I’m not about to start now.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I love you too, Mum. I’ll talk to you soon.”

With that I end the call, placing the phone down on the basin. I flick on the faucet, awaiting the water to heat. I almost wish I had to work today. That I had something to distract me from what my mother had just said, but my shift at the tavern doesn’t start until tonight.

Would my dad really do something radical? I shake away the irrational thought. This was just my mother’s way of manipulating me to come back.

I step under the hot water, hoping it will wash away the tension.

It doesn’t.

But when my thoughts become too much, I think of Mackenzie.

Chapter 21

MACKENZIE

The bus ride into Seabright Cove takes forever. Or maybe it just feels that way because I can’t stop thinking about Dylan and the kiss we shared last night.

I don’t even know what came over me. It was completely out of character for me to make such a bold move, but I’m not that far deep in denial to know that there are some serious feelings at play. At least, there is on my part.

Those feelings go hand in hand with overwhelming insecurities. I can’t stop wondering what they mean and whether my trust is something I can just offer up on a silver platter to somebody who has inadvertently deceived me on more than one occasion.

Dylan is a good guy though. Kristen knows it. Harper knows it. On some deeper level, even I know it, and yet, that is the very quality that made me so wary of him in the first place.

Go figure.

My head is not a safe space for me to be today, full of second-guessing and denial. I’d decided a trip to the one place that managed to get me out of it was in order, which is why I’m currently skipping down the steps of the bus onto the street across from the Abstract Palette.

There’s an almost whimsical glow surrounding the studio as I enter, the sunlight penetrating the bay windows at just the right angle. Grace looks up from what looks to be a small lump of terracotta clay that she’s delicately moulding between her fingers. It isn’t just her attention the tiny bell resonating above the door has captured though. Betty and May are also watching me, lifting their palms in greeting.

“Well, look who the cat dragged in.” Betty is all sass, a smile letting me know that she means her words light-heartedly.

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