Page 113 of Of Heather and Thistle
Heather ignored the jab. “I’ve been busy.”
“I bet.” Ivy let out a little sigh. “Living in your Highland castle with your hunky contractor, I assume? I saw the pictures you posted. You’re basically in a damn fairy tale.”
Heather’s stomach tightened. She hadn’t expected this Ivy. The teasing Ivy. The charming Ivy. The Ivy who made her feel like they were just two best friends catching up, like nothing had ever happened. Like she hadn’t betrayed her.
“I need to talk to you about something,” Heather said, cutting straight to the point.
“Oh, God. You sound serious.” Ivy’s laugh was light but tinged with something sharper. “Are you dying? Did you elope with a sexy Scotsman? Are you role-playingOutlanderwith Sam Heughan? Please tell me it’s something good!”
Her fingers clenched the bedsheets. “I think we need to stop this.”
Silence.
Then, Ivy scoffed. “Stop what?”
Heather exhaled slowly. “This. Us. Pretending like we canjust go back to how things were.”
Ivy’s voice lost its playful lilt. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Heather. Are we really doing this again?”
Heather swallowed. “I forgave you.”
“Then why the hell are we having this conversation?”
Heather hesitated. “Because I’m not the same person I was.”
Ivy let out a dry laugh. “Oh, so what, you found yourself in the Highlands? Is this yourEat, Pray, Lovemoment?”
Heather ignored the jab. “I used to think I needed you.” Her voice was quiet, but steady. “That I wouldn’t survive without you in my life. But Ivy… I don’t need you anymore.”
Ivy went silent again. This time, the silence was dangerous.When she finally spoke, her voice was softer, but laced with something cold. “So that’s it? You’re just…donewith me?”
Heather swallowed hard. She had imagined this moment so many times—breaking away. But she hadn’t expected it to feel like this. Like mourning.
Like losing something she had spent her whole life holding onto. But she wasn’t losing Ivy. She was letting her go.
“I love you, Ivy,” she admitted. “And I always will. But I can’t keep making excuses for you. I can’t keep pretending that what you did didn’t hurt me.”
“Iapologized—”
Heather cut her off. “You manipulated me.”
Ivy let out a frustrated noise. “Holy shit, Heather. It wasn’t that deep.”
Heather’s chest tightened, but she kept her voice even. “It was to me.”
Ivy exhaled sharply. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. After everything.”
Heather’s throat ached. “I know.”
Ivy was quiet for a long time. When she spoke again, her voice was detached. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”
Heather closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe. “It is.”
Another pause. And then, in a voicetoo sweet, too practiced, too Ivy, she said, “You know, whoever thisguyis— he won’t stick around forever. They never do.”
Heather’s stomach twisted.
“You’re a runner, babe,” Ivy continued, her voice light and sharp as a blade. “You always have been. And maybe you’re playing house now, but sooner or later, you’ll get scared, and you’ll leave. And when that happens? Don’t come crawling back to me.”
