Page 32 of One Night in Glasgow
The Glasgow morning felt different as we stepped outside. Colder. Grayer. The city that had seemed full of possibility just an hour ago now felt like a place I needed to escape from.
Danny hailed a taxi with practiced efficiency, and within minutes we were heading back toward the hotel to collect our luggage. I stared out the window at the passing streets, at the people going about their normal lives, and wondered how everything had gone so spectacularly wrong.
“You know,” Danny said carefully as our taxi waited at a red light, “maybe this isn’t the end of the story. Maybe it’s just... a pause. People sometimes need time to process things, to figure out what they really want.”
I appreciated the attempt at comfort, but we both knew the truth. Beth had made herself crystal clear. I was the mess she needed to move on from, not the solution to her problems.
The hotel came into view, and I felt something settle in my chest. Not peace, exactly, but resignation. I’d tried. I’d failed. Now it was time to go home and figure out how to live with the consequences.
The silver bracelet pressed against my leg through my pocket, a constant reminder of the connection I was walking away from. A connection that might have been something extraordinary, if I’d been brave enough to fight for it.
If I’d been the man, I pretended to be on stage, instead of the coward I’d become in real life.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BETH
I trudged down the street,my temples throbbing in a dull, merciless rhythm. The thought of the lunch I’d promised Kinna made my stomach churn, but I’d already ignored twelve of her texts. I couldn’t avoid her forever. But first, I needed something to quiet the screaming in my head.
My reflection in the market window was a stranger—haunted, hollow-eyed. Guilt was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Who the hell cared if I was buying vodka before noon? I’d already torched everything else in my life. The cheerful jingle of the shop’s bell was a grating insult. I made a beeline for the alcohol, grabbing a bottle of cheap vodka. Numbing the ache in my chest was the only goal.
As I moved to the checkout, the familiar paranoia crept in, the cashier’s gaze feeling heavy and judgmental. I handed over a handful of crumpled bills, cash I’d had to practically beg for. After waking up broke and emotionally shattered, I’d made one desperate, humiliating call. Not to Kinna. I couldn’t bear her pity.I’d called the taxi dispatch, Brenda, the dispatcher who’d gushed about being a fan, had been a surprising lifeline. After I’d broken down on the phone, she’d met me on her lunch break and, bless her kind, misguided heart, pressed a couple hundred pounds into my hand. “Just to see you through, love,” she’d said. It was both the kindest and most shameful money I’d ever held.
I stuffed the vodka into my tote bag just as I spotted Kinna approaching through the glass door. Shit. Panic clawed at my throat as I pushed the door open, nearly colliding with her.
“Beth!” she exclaimed, her relief quickly replaced by concern as her eyes swept over my disheveled state. “You look… Beth, what’s happened?”
“Don’t,” I snapped, my voice harsher than I intended as she glanced at the clinking bottle in my bag. “Don’t you dare judge me. You have no idea.”
“I’m not judging, I’m worried,” she said, her expression pained. We walked in silence to the café next door.
I slumped into a chair, the cheerful chatter feeling like nails on a chalkboard. “Vodka martini,” I shot at the server before he could even ask. “And the chicken Caesar salad.”
Kinna ordered a latte and a sandwich, then turned her attention back to me. “I’m glad you finally showed up. I’ve been stressing over you like crazy.”
I shrugged, picking at a loose thread on my sleeve. “Yeah, well, things have been... complicated.” The floodgates opened before I could stop them. “My life’s a fucking disaster, Kinna. The scandal, getting kicked out of Bright Futures, my parents cutting me off... it’s all gone to hell.”
Kinna reached across the table, squeezing my hand. “Yeah, sometimes life sucks. You just happened to get a big ol’ bucket of shit dumped on you right now.”
I laughed bitterly, pulling my hand away as the server returned with our drinks. I took a long, burning sip of my martini. “Yeah, well, welcome to the Beth MacLeod shit show. Front row seats.”
Kinna’s eyes flickered to my drink, then back to my face. “How are you managing... financially? With your parents cutting you off...”
My cheeks burned with shame. “I, uh... I’m managing.” I didn’t mention Brenda’s loan. Or that I’d already pawned a pair of my grandmother’s earrings.
“What about rent?” she pressed gently. “How are you going to manage?”
I snorted, downing a big gulp of my martini. “Oh, you know, I figured I’d just drink myself into oblivion and end up homeless on the street. Mum would probably be thrilled about that.”
Kinna’s face fell, but she quickly tried to lighten the mood. “Well, you could always go live with Stewart...”
I nearly choked. “Jesus, Kinna. I’d rather be homeless.”
“I was just kidding,” she said, her eyes serious again. “You know... my couch is always open if you need it, Beth.”
A lump formed in my throat. “Thanks, Kinna,” I managed, my voice thick. “Really. But I... I think I’m gonna stay in my flat until they physically drag me out. Stubborn pride, or whatever.”
“I get it,” she said. “Just... promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”
