Chapter 12

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I woke up before my alarm the following morning to the sound of Fionn groaning from the couch. I jumped up out of bed and filled a glass with water before digging around the drawers for some aspirin.

"Rise and shine!" I sing-songed, falling back on the way he'd woken me on one of the early days of my visit. I handed him the glass and the meds.

Sitting up, he peeked one eye open at me and groaned.

"What am I doing here?" he asked groggily.

"You mean you don't remember?" I clutched a hand to my chest in mock horror. "My, Fionn, I'm surprised. Mr. Responsible."

Fionn let out a low growl of annoyance. He raised his eyebrows and immediately winced. Apparently, the headache was too much to engage his eyebrows.

"Em—Emilie, did I do anything, er, regrettable last night?" Guilt laced his voice.

My expression softened and I let go of my sarcasm. It wasn't right to be mean to him. "No, but I did meet some of your friends. Quite an eclectic bunch."

"Oy." He gulped down the water. "Sorry for that. My friends...they can be interesting at times."

"Don't worry about it." I stood up from where I was sitting next to him. "I'm going to make a run to get some breakfast. Do you want anything?"

He hugged a pillow to his chest and for a moment, I felt sorry for taunting him given his hangover.

"Just some tea. Ginger, if they have it," he replied.

I slung my purse over my shoulder. "I'll be back in a few. Try not to throw up on the couch!"

I heard him chuckle as I walked down the spiral staircase and over to the diner down the street.

"Maidin mhaith! Good morning, Martha," I greeted the woman behind the counter.

"Maidin mhaith, Emilie." She smiled at me. "You're learning Gaelic quite well. What can I get for you?"

"Two avo toasts with poached eggs, a ginger tea, and a chai latte. To go, please." I hopped up onto a chair by the counter to wait.

"You and Fionn had a rough night?"

I shook my head. "What makes you say that?"

Martha grinned. "Avo toast and ginger tea is what I make for Fionn whenever he has a hangover."

Ah. That made sense.

"We weren't together last night," I said. "Fionn was drunk so I let him sleep it off in the flat. But it wasn't...we didn't plan it."

This was way more than Martha probably cared to learn, but she nodded along nonetheless.

"Understandable." She ripped the piece of paper from the notepad and handed it over to the kitchen. "I'll have the food out for you in a few."

Martha went to help a few more customers while I waited for my breakfast order. I glanced around the diner; there was a steady stream of customers coming in and out. It was different from the shops we had in the city. The cozy vibe was still there, but here in Scotland, that vibe extended much beyond the four walls of the diner.

In fact, the whole town radiated a cozy vibe that I could see myself enjoying much beyond just a vacation.

I scrolled through the emails on my phone, hoping to find an email that would determine my fate for the creative writing program. Would I get to stay and live out my dream or return home to a future of uncertainty?

Six months after applying, I was still waiting to hear. I hoped I would know soon, though. The thought of leaving Scotland behind forever, now that I'd fallen in love with it beyond the pages, was something I didn't want to think about.

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