Page 122 of A Forever Love

“Thanks.” I lean back, grabbing one of the whiskey glasses he poured when we entered the room. “You believe I didn’t do anything bad when she was a kid?” I ask carefully, glancing between the two men.

“Even Keith believes that. He only wanted to hurt you.” Lukas shrugs before sliding the first-aid kit onto the table.

“And you guys are okay with me and Mere being together?” I ask, and then hastily add, “Though I don’t care if you’re not.”

Lukas lets out a long exhale, dragging out his response and elevating my anxiety. “I’m not sure. It depends on what Mere thinks,” he finally mutters, leaning back in his seat. His impassive face gives nothing away.

“Same,” Uncle Gavin chimes in, mirroring Lukas’ stance.

“And you’re okay with the fact that Mere left because of me?”

“Do you truly believe we didn’t know what happened that night four years ago?” they reply simultaneously, catching me off guard once more.

“So, Uncle Connor told you that he had Simon tailing Mere?”

“Connor isn’t the only person with resources, is he now?” Uncle Gavin says. “I had Craig, and Lukas had Tommy shadowing Mere.”

“Was I the only one who didn’t think of doing that?”

“Keith didn’t either. Maybe because both of you valued Mere’s need for privacy more than we did,” Lukas remarks, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders.

“Hey, that’s not true!” Uncle Gavin straightens in his seat. “I care about Mere too. I just place a higher priority on her safety over her feelings.”

“Thanks, Uncle Vin. I was just starting to feel better about myself there for a sec,” I reply with a hint of sarcasm.

“You’re welcome, kid, but I’m not here to make you feel better. I’m here to tell you that it won’t be easy. Keith already regrets missing out on a part of Mere’s life. Now he’s realizing that his self-indulgence in his own pain might have pushed you and his daughter closer.”

“Exactly. It’s not just about you and Mere loving each other. In his mind, Keith thinks he didn’t love Mere enough and forced her to seek it elsewhere,” Lukas adds, underscoring the harsh truth.

But I’m fully aware of that fact. I know I not only have to convince Keith that I truly love Merida but also show him that we’re two souls meant for each other, or some other corny words he needs to be able to trust me.

32

MERIDA

It’s been a week since I returned to St. Peppers. My arm is in a temporary cast, a sight that makes Dad flinch every time I struggle with something. Yet, despite recent events, everything at home seems unexpectedly normal, as if nothing has happened. Yeah, okay, there are a few minor changes, as Dad pointed out the day we got back, which includes Clem working from home now, and him being on an extended leave.

Leave—a concept I thought was unfamiliar to my father. The man checks in at work even on holidays. Yet since our return from London, he hasn’t touched his laptop or phone. If someone needs to reach him, they have to come to our house. Dad hasn’t left my side once, making it incredibly difficult for me to have a private conversation with Clem. Because despite things being normal at my home, I know something happened between Dad and Carter.

Speaking of Carter, I haven’t seen him since my return. He’s still in Cherrywood, and except for his daily text every morning, where he asks about my health, he’s been radio silent.

I grab my phone from the coffee table and swipe up to read the texts I’d received while I was still in the hospital in London.

Carter: I had to fly back home early, mittens. We need to make sure Tony is admitted into the facility and the doctors know he might be a threat to others and himself. I wish you the best ride back home, babe. I might not see you for a few days, but remember I’m always close. Can you do me a favor? Please don’t talk to Keith or anyone else about us. I want you to just focus on recovering right now, and when the time is right, we’ll talk to everyone together. Until then, be safe and stay out of trouble, mittens. My heart can only take so much. And don’t forget that I love you, forever and always.

I was asleep when he messaged, and my phone was somewhere with Dad. But when I finally got my hands on my cell, I texted him a few hours later.

Me: Did you talk to Dad?

It took another few hours before I received his response, in the form of two words.

Carter: A little.

What the heck is a little when you’re sharing information about someone you’ve loved all your life?

I tried asking Carter, and his response, as usual, was to be patient. I swear, I’m a patient person if I know what I’m waiting for. But now I can’t take it anymore.

Dad walks in, his eyes zeroing in on the phone in my hand. “Someone call?” he asks, trying to act nonchalant, but I don’t miss the tightness around his eyes.

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