Chapter 26

26

N athan shoved bottle after bottle of gin into the crates, as if trying to cram his sanity back into it. The heady scent of botanicals was suffocating and tightened his chest with each breath. He gripped the cool glass of a bottle and pressed it into his palm until it felt like it might break.

How the hell could she do this to him?

After everything he’d been through, how could she betray his trust – knowing his whole story?

That was cold, no two ways about it.

He should have been relieved that it was over, that she was gone.

The problem was, Gennie Rivers had felt anything but cold. She’d felt like sunshine.

Her eyes, the hurt in them, haunted him.

She’s an actress, remember that.

Nathan plonked the bottle down on the table and the sound echoed through the empty room. ‘Stupid,’ he muttered to himself. He should have known better than to let his guard down. To trust a stranger. A girl from Hollywood, no less – fucking showbiz central. Nothing but flukes and fakes.

Nathan’s hand shook as he reached for another bottle. He busied himself, tried not to think, not to feel. The bottles, the labels, the deliveries – mundane tasks that kept his mind occupied.

His phone pinged on the table and the screen lit up with yet another call from Fiona. She was like a fat blowfly that couldn’t help but return to the biggest steaming pile of shite. Fiona stood for everything he was trying to forget. He silenced the call and ground his molars in frustration. He wished he could turn his phone off, but he couldn’t; Abby might need him.

He forced himself to fix his attention on the gin, but Gennie’s image kept intruding. It all felt too real.

He let out a growl and gripped the edge of the table. The labels smudged before his eyes. Her genuine interest as he explained the distilling process, the alchemy of gin-making… He’d shown her this place, shared his passion, and now the memory mocked him, twisted the knife deeper. The bottle slipped and shattered on the floor.

‘Fuck that!’ His voice broke with pointless rage. Shards of glass scattered across the tiles. Stupid symbolism. He dropped to his knees and picked up the pieces. A jagged shard cut his finger. The sharp sting resonated with the piercing ache in his chest. He watched his blood drip onto the floor. His thoughts spiralled, each drop a reminder of his failure.

You’re not in your right mind.

He wrapped his finger in a rag. The physical wound was nothing compared to the emotional gash that refused to close. He’d come so close to believing in something more, something real. Like a fool. An iron ring wrapped around his chest and screwed so tight he could hardly breathe.

How would he explain Gennie’s sudden departure to Abby? She’d been so excited, so happy. The thought of breaking her heart made his stomach churn, the sour taste of guilt rising in his throat. He clenched his eyes tightly and took a deep breath.

‘Get it together.’ He had to be strong, to keep those walls intact. But today, it felt like they were finally closing in, trapping him, burying him.

As he swept the glass into a pile, he remembered the confrontation. The accusations, the betrayal…

Why wouldn’t her image disappear?

A fresh wave of anger tore through him, hot and uncontrollable. He grabbed another bottle and hurled it at the wall. It broke with a satisfying crash, the destruction eased the turmoil for all of three seconds before the pain settled back in.

Breathing heavily, Nathan stared at the broken glass. He was stupid to think he could open up, to believe in something more. To trust anyone.

He had to protect himself, protect Abby. No one was going to hurt them. Not on his watch.

Nathan had spent half his day on the phone with his parents and sister, explaining why he was snogging some young woman they’d never even heard of.

His mother’s worried voice was still ringing in his ears. ‘Nathan, are you alright? What’s going on?’ And his father’s concern had come through in that weighted silence, the occasional heavy sigh speaking volumes.

Paul’s father’s car rolling up the driveway drew Nathan’s gaze from the distillery’s front window. His grip on the windowsill tightened as he caught sight of another nondescript vehicle parked near the gate.

Paparazzi?

Those fuckers had found him.

He’d thought they’d be safe here.

He’d been a fool.

Every instinct yelled at him to storm out there and chase those scumbags off his property, but then he saw Abby bound up the driveway, her pigtails bouncing, and he just…couldn’t. He couldn’t let her see the fear. The rage.

He plastered on a smile and stepped outside. ‘Hello, darlin’. How was your day?’

‘Good!’ Abby’s brow furrowed as she took in his strained expression. ‘Where’s Gennie?’ she asked, eyes darting around the grounds. ‘I have a new pirate story to tell her.’

The way her voice was filled with hope and joy tore a hole right through his chest. How the hell was he supposed to crush that? It was killing him.

‘Gennie…’ He gulped down the syllables as if trying to choke back the thoughts. ‘She had to go back to work, sweet pea. She…told me to say goodbye.’

Abby’s face fell. ‘When will she come back?’

‘Not anytime soon, sweet pea.’

‘But she didn’t say goodbye to me.’ Her small hands twisted the hem of her jumper.

His daughter’s disappointment splintered his heart – or what was left of it, anyway. He crouched down and pulled Abby into a tight hug. ‘I know, darlin’. I know. But Gennie wanted me to tell you she cares for you very much.’

The lie tasted like ashes on his tongue.

If she’d truly cared about Abby, she wouldn’t have sold them out.

Abby buried her face in his shoulder. ‘Is she coming to our Halloween party?’

‘I don’t know.’ He despised himself for the uncertainty in his voice. ‘It’s still two weeks away, but I wouldn’t count on it.’

Abby’s small arms wrapped around his neck, and his gaze returned to the ominous car in the distance, its tinted windows. He’d have to deal with those bastards soon enough, but first, he had to tend to the wounded wee heart in front of him.

‘Why don’t you tell me all about your pirate story over a hot chocolate with marshmallows?’

Abby still looked disgruntled, but the prospect was too tempting. ‘Okay.’ She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the house.

He followed, the familiar weight of single-parent guilt settling in. Maybe he should have let Gennie say goodbye. But the fear, the bitter sting of betrayal – it had just been too much in that moment. Everything pointed to her, even though it felt out of character. But he’d also never suspected that Imogen would pull that sort of stunt, and then the entire nation had seen his dick in action.

Now he was left to pick up the pieces, to mend Abby’s broken heart – and his own.

Because yeah, it was fucking broken.

As they stepped into the warmth of the kitchen, Nathan caught a glimpse of his phone. He’d scrolled through it earlier, hoping for something that might make sense of the chaos. Instead, he’d found the headlines, each one a fistful of nails to swallow.

Caught Again! Nathan MacMillan Snogs Woman Half His Age

Disgraced Pop Idol Caught Canoodling with Mystery Beauty – Is He Hiding a Secret Love Child?

Celtic Smutpuppy Now Nothing But A Dirty Ol’ Dog

MacMillan’s Midlife Meltdown – Former Heartthrob’s Fling with Gen Z

Daddy Issues? Ex-Heartthrob Nathan MacMillan, 37, Seduces Girl Half His Age

A wave of nausea had washed over him. It hurt. Didn’t look great for Gennie, either. Why the hell would she do this to herself? She hadn’t struck him as a murderously eager, ambitious type who’d stop at nothing.

None of it added up.

But this was his reality now – protecting Abby from the wolves at the gate and the demons within.

He set her up at the kitchen table, her eager chatter soothing the tattered edges of his nerves, if only for a moment. She spun her pirate tale, her voice rose and fell with excitement. He forced himself to focus, to be present for her, even as his mind spun out of control.

The paparazzi. The treachery. Gennie. It all collided in a storm he couldn’t escape.

He poured the hot chocolate, the aroma mixing with the bitter taste of regret in his mouth and handed Abby her mug.

‘Awright. Tell me more about this pirate queen of yours.’

‘Grace O’Malley!’ She beamed and launched back into her story, her enthusiasm untouched by a single worry, unaware of the battle raging inside him.

Nathan listened. He wanted nothing more than to shield this girl from the harshness of the world, to keep her safe, to spare her any pain.

But could he seriously do that? Protect her from the ugly truth? That people leave, that trust is a fragile thing. That the ones you love most are the ones who can hurt you the deepest.

His phone chimed again. He ignored it and focused on Abby, on her innocence, her joy. This fragile peace – he’d cling to it as long as he could. Because outside the kitchen, the wolves were waiting. And inside, his own demons were stirring. Ruthless and unforgiving.

Nathan trudged up the stairs, holding Abby’s small hand in his. Long day. Too many phone calls, too many questions for which he had no answers. All he wanted to do was tuck his girl in and collapse into bed, putting the whole shite show behind him.

Though Abby’s steps were slow, her eyes were bright with anticipation – a bedtime story with her father was a cherished ritual.

The fairy lights twinkled overhead, casting a soft glow over her room. Abby’s bunny Pimpa sat propped up against the pillows, a silent witness to the loss that hung heavy in the air.

‘Time for stories and sleep.’ He herded Abby towards the bed. ‘Which story do you like tonight?’

Her forehead pinched as she considered the options, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Just as he was about to suggest one of her tried and tested favourites, a rustling from under her pillow caught his attention.

‘Abby – are you hiding sweeties under your pillow? Like a squirrel?’

She sniggered. ‘I’m not a squirrel. And I won’t tell you where I hide my treasure.’

He reached out and lifted the corner of her pillow. There was a folded piece of paper. ’What’s that, Abby? A treasure map?’

Her eyes went wide. ‘I-I don’t know.’

‘Do you want me to look at it for you?’

‘Let’s look at it together?’ She climbed onto his lap.

He unfolded the paper, and his heart damn near stopped.

Gennie had left her something, a surprise. A drawing of her and Abby as…what he assumed were fairy pirates.

’Is that Gennie and me?’

‘Looks like she made that for you as a goodbye present.’

‘What do the letters say? I’m too tired to read.’

Nathan cleared his throat. ‘Abster, you’re my special friend. Gennie.’

He had to look away, the pain in his chest too much to bear. A coarse block rose in his throat, the control he’d been clinging about to fracture.

She’d done this for his girl, a secret treasure to be discovered. Why?

Abby’s cheeks turned pink. ‘Can I keep it?’

His grip clung to the paper.

She peered at him. ‘What’s wrong, Da? Don’t you like it?’

He stared at the picture. ‘It’s nice, my darlin’.’ Carefully, he smoothed a hand over the paper. ‘Gennie’s talented, isn’t she?’

‘Aye! She can ride horses and fight and do the splits on both sides.’ Abby’s small hands pulled at his sleeve. ‘And I want her to come to our party.’

‘We’ll see, okay?’

He held Abby close, her breath steady against his chest. The weight of the day pressed down harder. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled the sweet scent of her hair.

As he read to her, Abby yawned and her eyelids drooped. Nathan tucked her in and pulled the covers up to her chin. He sat beside her and stroked her hair until her breathing slowed and she drifted off to sleep.

In the quiet of the room, his thoughts swirled. How was it possible that someone so caring as Gennie could do something so ruthless, so…calculating? So cruel?

None of it made sense.

But it wouldn’t be the first time that he’d grossly misjudged someone’s character.

He stayed by Abby’s side until he was sure she was fast asleep. Then he snuck out of the room and quietly closed the door behind him. Glenwood Lodge was silent, the only sound his own heavy footsteps in the hall.

It had never felt so empty.