Page 85 of Blindsided
I dream of her and what a future with her would be like.
When I wake, sunlight is streaming through the windows, and Kori is still beside me, though now I’m the one being used as a pillow. Her head restsagainst my chest, one hand curled loosely in my shirt. I stay perfectly still, not wanting to disturb her, savoring the weight and warmth of her against me.
Across the aisle, I catch Declan watching us, his expression unreadable. When our eyes meet, he doesn’t look away; instead, he gives a slight nod that might be approval or might be something else entirely. Then he returns to his tablet, leaving me to wonder.
Kori stirs, her body tensing slightly as she wakes. Her eyes flutter open, confusion giving way to recognition as she realizes where she is—and who she’s using as a mattress.
“Morning,” I say, my voice rough with sleep.
She sits up quickly, a blush coloring her cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“I didn’t mind,” I assure her.
She runs a hand through her tousled hair, somehow making bedhead look appealing. “How long until we land?”
“About an hour,” Declan answers from across the aisle, not looking up from his tablet.
Kori’s blush deepens at the realization that we’re not alone, though everyone else seems tactfully absorbed in their own activities. She excuses herself to the bathroom, leaving me to deal with Declan’s knowing glance.
“Not a word,” I warned him.
“Wasn’t going to say anything,” he replies, the ghost of a smile playing around his mouth.
When Kori returns, freshened up and more composed, the captain announces our initial descent. She settles back beside me, close enough that our shoulders touch.
“Nervous?” I ask quietly.
“About meeting the rest of your family? A little,” she admits. “About being back in Canada? Terrified.”
I hadn’t considered that aspect—that returning to Canada means being closer to Mark, to Lana, to all the pain she left behind. “We don’t have to stay long,” I promise. “Just enough to prepare for Alberta.”
She gives me a grateful smile.
The MacGallan estate comes into view as we descend—sprawling grounds surrounding a stone mansion that looks like it was plucked straight from the Scottish Highlands.
“Holy shit,” Kori breathes beside me. “That’s where you grew up?”
“Not exactly,” I remind her. “I visited occasionally, but I grew up in Toronto with the Murphys. The original home was destroyed a year ago. Declan had it rebuilt larger. Likely to accommodate all of Tomas’ offspring.”
“Right,” she says, still staring at the estate. “I keep forgetting the whole ‘secret identity’ thing.”
“Join the club,” I mutter.
We land on a private airstrip at the edge of the property, where a fleet of black SUVs waits to transport us to the main house. As we disembark, I find myself suddenly hesitant, hanging back as the others move toward the vehicles.
Kori notices, of course. She always notices. “What is it?”
“Last time I was here,” I say slowly, “I was Kane Murphy, disappointing nephew. Now I’m returning as Kane MacGallan, prodigal son. It’s... a lot.”
She takes my hand and squeezes gently. “You’re still you. The name doesn’t change who you are.”
“Doesn’t it, though?” I gesture toward the mansion looming in the distance. “That place, that legacy—it’s not just a name. It’s power, expectations, and history. Things I never asked for.”
“Then make it your own,” she says. “Redefine what it means to be a MacGallan.”
Her words settle over me, not solving anything but somehow making the weight more bearable. I press a quick kiss to her forehead. “When did you get so wise?”
“Trauma does that to a person,” she quips, her smile taking the sting from the words.
