Page 48 of Devotion: Isn't What It Seems (Love Isn't What It Seems 1)

“Not sure,” I muttered trying to think back. “About eight, maybe nine months.”

“How do you like it?” I felt like he was interrogating me. Maybe that was too strong of a word but I didn’t want to admit I barely saw any of Scotland.

“It’s nice,” I commented vaguely.

“What made you move here?” I winced inwardly. I knew his questions were a normal conversation type, curiosity questions.

As I debated how to answer that, it was Layla that answered from behind me.

“She buried her husband and son, tried to kill herself, and then moved to Scotland to escape.”

I froze and the table went dead quiet.

The only thing breaking the silence were Lachlan's curses.

“Get the fuck out, Layla,” he finally spoke through his clenched teeth, his voice cold as ice. “Now!”

“What?” she asked defensively. “It’s true. Is it not, Eve?”

I swallowed hard. “You pretty much summed it up, Layla,” I tried to keep my voice strong but my words came out slightly quavering. “You missed a few points but it’s a pretty good summary.”

“See,” she tried to justify herself. “I was at the funeral. I know your sister.”

I glanced up at her and those cold blue eyes weren’t so cold today. They held hints of jealousy, regret, sorrow, and something else I couldn’t quite pinpoint.

For some reason, I couldn’t muster strength to be angry, undignified, or anything. I realized with the jolt that her words didn’t send me into that familiar sinking feeling of desperation and depression. Maybe I should thank her?

“I don’t remember you,” I told her softly.

“You were pretty out of it,” she whispered and I got a distinct feeling she regretted her words already. “Your sister and I took a class together in college and I happened to be visiting so I paid my respects by coming to your husband and son’s funeral. You moved on quickly.”

Lachlan interjected in a cold voice. “I want you out now, Layla.”

“Don’t put her out on my account, Lachlan,” I uttered in a soft voice. “I’m fine.”

“Why didn’t you cry at their funeral?” Layla’s question felt like a physical strike.

I glanced at Lachlan. His grey eyes were burning, and for some reason, they gave me strength.

Never looking away from him, I answered Layla. “I lost my shit pretty bad the night before,” this time my voice didn’t tremble. “So I had to be sedated to attend the funeral. I don’t remember much of anything but the coffin and scarlet red roses from that day.”

My gaze left Lachlan and I looked at Layla. I almost pitied her. Almost. She wanted Lachlan desperately, that much was clear.

“Does that answer your question, Layla?” I asked quietly. She swallowed hard and nodded, tears glistening in those beautiful eyes of hers. If only she wasn’t so cruel.

“Good,” I muttered. “Glad I could clear that up for you.”

“Layla,” Lachlan started in a furious voice and I gently laid my hand on his arm. The day started so nice and I actually felt proud of myself for this encounter.

“It’s ok,” I spoke softly at him. Layla turned around and left before anything else was said.

Bram came up to me and hugged me tightly. For a moment I was shocked and then gently laid my hand on his fiery red hair, feeling its softness under my fingers. Now that choked me up.

“Thank you,” I whispered softly to him. He was going to be an amazing guy one day.

Margaret, Ainslee’s mom, and Colin joined us at that moment. Thankfully, they missed the whole scene with Layla.

“He must really like you,” Margaret announced. “Usually he hates strangers.”

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