Away With the Fairies (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 2)

Wash It Away

Author's Note:

Double, double, toil and trouble! I was soooooo tempted to just post this chapter, and squirrel the next one - but then I remembered I love my readers too much to tease them like that!

Hope you enjoy!

Love,

Katya xx

***

She walked into the kitchen. He stood near the counter, both hands pressed into it, leaning forward onto his straight arms.

"I don't know how to turn it on," he grumbled.

Fiona walked up to the Sage and picked up the coffee container from the shelf near it.

"I'm sorry I lost my temper," he said.

"You didn't," she said, confused.

"I did. I got angry at your husband," he said. He was looking out the window above the sink. "I have no right. And I scared you."

"I don't think you did," she answered quietly. "You keep saying it, but you really don't scare me. It was– unexpected. That it made you so angry. That you care. That anyone cares, really." She gave out a small humourless laugh. "He married the pub, I think."

He whipped his head and looked at her.

"It's mine," she said. "The pub. It belonged to my Mum, and when she died, it went to my Dad. And then Nate took over. But it's mine."

His lashes fluttered, in the already familiar series of nervous blinks - and she laughed, this time much louder.

"You think I'm an idiot, don't you?" she said. "Because, how can I not see it? That he's gaslighting me. That's what you said, right? I googled it, just now." She unnecessarily pointed at the ceiling, at where the bedroom was. "I also googled how many times a day it's normal to think about sex. Apparently, it's 19 times a day for men, and ten for women." He continued staring at her. "So I reckon," she continued in a level tone, "you were wrong. I'm not normal. It's definitely more than ten for me."

The Sage attacked the beans, and he jolted. She heavily sat in a chair, tucking her hands under her thighs.

"It's properly embarrassing, you know," she said pensively. "I don't have friends. No one my age, at least. And so I never had anyone point it out to me. And that's what gaslighters do, they isolate you. That's what that article said. And– I wonder why he let me come here," she said. "He didn't want to at the beginning, and then when your brother offered me the contract, he suddenly agreed. We had a row, of course, but he could've kept me from going if he wanted to. I always do what he tells me. And it's not like we need money."

The Sage beeped signalling that the coffee was ready. Neither of them moved.

"It took you a day and a half to see it. If anyone was there to– to help me before, I could've gotten out years ago," she said.

Her eyes stung, but she clenched her teeth and told herself she wouldn't cry. Crying solved nothing.

He took a slow step towards her.

"I just keep remembering things, and they all make sense now. Like that time when a woman came to the pub and said she owed a gallery and wanted to look at my works, and he said that she was a con artist, and would steal my art– and I believed him! I'm such an idiot!" she exclaimed and looked up at him. The expression on his face was soft, and she shook her head frantically. "Please, don't pity me. It only makes me feel worse."

He said looked her over. "Don't see anything pitiful here."

Fiona frowned. "There's plenty," she answered darkly. "I just keep thinking, how could I have been so blind? I spend one day and two nights away from home, with a new person, and that's enough for me to understand how I've been pushed around, and manipulated, and abused for years! A day and a half with you is enough for me to start questioning every little conviction I've ever had! So how stupid did I need to be to believe in them in the first place?!" At the end she was almost shouting. "So now, I'm asking myself– is any of it true? Am I actually odd? Am I that incapable? Did I have to stay away from managing the pub? I never enjoyed being there, but it's mine. Should I have tried to push back? Am I that unloveable? That ugly? They both kept saying I was lucky Nate decided to marry me, to 'keep me in check,' to make sure I didn't end up in a ditch like my mother. Ugh, this makes me feel– dirty!" she hissed. "Like I need a shower!"