The thought terrified me.
But it also filled me with hope.
“I think so. If you’d asked me weeks ago, I’d have said no. But … maybe I wouldn’t be so bad at it after all.”
He nodded with a small smile. “You’re already a good dad, Mac. Never doubt it.”
19
Mac
“If you could have any of the things you think would improve your life, what would they be?”
The answers seemed obvious. “To know who is threatening Arro and end it for her. To spend the rest of my life with her.”
“Is that it? No winning the lottery or owning an Aston Martin?” Iona teased.
I chuckled. “I have all I need. I’ve always known, as Lachlan has always known, despite his fortune, that true wealth lies within the health and happiness of the people we love.”
Her expression softened. “Then you’ve already won. It can take people entire lifetimes to come to that realization. Others never do.”
“Then they’re fools.”
“And you’re certainly no fool. So … what could make your life worse than it is now?”
“Christ.” I sank back against the sofa. “The list is endless.”
Iona slowly nodded. “Exactly. Most of us are programmed to think about negative possibilities over positive possibilities, and that’s because usually when we stop and think about our current situation, we realize there is so much more to be positive about than negative. That’s not always the case for everyone, especially when we’re grieving or going through a difficult period. But if you only listed two things that would improve your life right now, Mac, then you must be pretty content with what you have.”
“I have a good life. I know that. That’s never been the problem.”
Her eyes glittered with what looked like triumph. “So if you believe you have a good life not because of the fancy security job or the money or the connection to famous people … if you believe you have a good life because you’ve surrounded yourself with good people, then doesn’t it stand to reason that those good people have stayed in your life because they believe you are a good person too? That you are a good person too?”
Emotion thickened in my throat.
“I can see this has affected you, Mac. Why? What did I say that makes you so emotional?”
“Because it’s so obvious when you say it like that,” I answered gruffly. “Why couldn’t I just see that? Am I a fucking moron?”
“It’s not about intelligence. In fact, in my opinion, you are very emotionally intelligent and intuitive about others. The problem is how you see yourself. It’s about a lifetime of only seeing yourself through a false lens, fabricated by feelings of abandonment and worthlessness from the moment you understood your mother left you. Today you’re seeing yourself more clearly. How does that feel, Mac?”
My voice shook with how it felt. “Freeing.”
20
Arro
I suspected that if Mac hadn’t been my constant shadow during the day and hadn’t had one of his men sitting outside in a car watching the house at night, I might have forgotten about the threatening copycat notes and gotten on with my life.
Tomorrow would be four weeks to the day since I’d slammed the door in Mac’s and Robyn’s faces. Not very polite or mature, I know, but her defense of him aggravated me. And I’m grateful that their relationship was such now that she would defend her dad. Clearly, my feelings toward the bastard continued to be as complicated and confusing as ever.
While I’d gotten pretty good at avoiding conversation with Mac while he was on guard duty, I was feeling stifled. Maybe if someone else shadowed me, I’d be fine. Thankfully, we’d finished work at the Lairg site, and I was working from home on preliminary plans for replanting in Aberdeenshire and harvesting in Fearnmore, which was not far west of Caelmore.
Mac guarded the house, and I felt bad that he had to sit out in the car the whole time, but any guilt I was feeling was obliterated when he shadowed me in the village. When I went to Morag’s to buy lunch, Mac at my side, she’d told us that everyone was talking about the fact that Mac and Jock were guarding me. “Is there something going on that we should be concerned about?” she’d asked. And, of course, Morag wasn’t a gossip and was genuinely worried about me, so having to lie made me feel like a dick.
“This can’t go on,” I griped as Mac and I walked out of Morag’s. “I need my life back. I hate lying to people.”
Mac opened the passenger side of his SUV, and as I hopped in, I said, “There’s no point worrying anybody else if this turns out to be a prank. Which is looking more and more likely.” I waited for him to round the vehicle and get into the driver’s seat. “There’s been nothing in three weeks. This”—I gestured between us—“can it stop now?”