She sat up, too, holding the blanket to her chest. The hurt in her eyes twisted his heart.
“Do ye regret what happened?” she said.
“Marjorie, whatever happened, nothing is going to change the truth. I can never be the man you deserve. And nothing is going to change the fact that I’m leaving.”
She blinked, her eyelashes trembling. She reached for her tunic on the floor and yanked it on to cover herself. Then she left the bed and went to stand by the window.
“Aye, I ken ye want to leave. Ye never said ye would stay.” She turned and faced him with her arms wrapped around her stomach protectively. “But I thought… I hoped after what ye said to me about helping ye heal, and what ye called me, and after what ye did—what we did…” She gestured at the bed.
Konnor found his breeches and put them on. He couldn’t stand hurting her like this. He ached to take her in his arms. To soothe her. To give her that sunlight that had shone through her eyes again.
He walked around the bed. She stepped back.
“That’s why I should never have given in to this. I don’t want to hurt you. And I am. And I hate doing this.”
“Then dinna,” she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes.
Guilt twisted Konnor’s gut. “I have to go, Marjorie. I told you I’d stay to protect you, and now that you’re safe, I must go back to my life. My mother… She depends on me. I have my company to run. We have no future, you and I, no matter how much I—”
The word love almost slipped off his tongue.
“No matter how much I care about you, I’ll never be the right man for you.”
“Not a right man for me? Ye brought me back to life. Ye changed me. Ye returned my strength and confidence to me. Ye saved me and my son. Are you saying all that is nae good for me?”
“Love only leads to pain, Marjorie. Love is a lie.”
Silence hung between them, heavy and so saturated that Konnor could cut it with a knife.
“I don’t know how not to hurt a woman’s heart. How to be a good father. I grew up with this darkness. This violence.” He dragged his hands through his short hair, pulling the skin of his scalp back.
“If I ever hurt you…” Konnor shook his head. “I couldn’t live with myself. I just can’t.”
Marjorie stepped to him and took his hands in hers. She kissed his knuckles and looked at him.
“Ye wilna hurt me. Ye wilna become yer stepfather.”
Konnor shook his head, his eyes stinging. “You don’t know that. Marjorie, I do care about you. I meant every word I said. You’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever met.”
Her eyes watered.
“But I can’t stay,” he continued. “I’ve been straightforward with you from the beginning. I must return to my time. My place is there. And your place is with a man who can be a great example for Colin and who won’t break your heart. I cannot give you the love you deserve.”
A tear ran down from her eye, and Konnor wiped it with his thumb.
“I hate ye,” she whispered. “I ken yer mother needs ye. I understand that. But I still wish I’d never met ye. Ye opened me up to this possibility of happiness. Something I thought was never meant for me. Ye were wonderful with Colin and ye made me hope and put my guard down and feel things I’ve never felt for anyone.” She slapped his chest, stinging him. “And now ye’re leaving.”
She shook her head, biting her lower lip.
“I kent I should never trust a man. But I broke my rule for ye. Ye canna be trusted. I gave ye the power to hurt me even more than he did—and ye’re using it.”
Konnor’s heart sank to his feet. Pain like an arrow piercing his chest shot through him. He hated himself. He wished he could give Marjorie every happiness that she deserved. And he hated that he was the source of her heartbreak.
“Marjorie…”
She pulled her breeches up angrily and tied them at her waist.
“Dinna say my name.” Her eyes shot daggers into him. “And if ye life is dear to ye, ye’ll go. Now. I canna stand a moment more of seeing ye.”
She pulled on her shoes and marched towards the door. She turned to him. “I’m going to the great hall. When I get back, ye better be gone. Dinna return, or I will fight ye, and ye will be sorry.”
She walked out and slammed the giant door behind her. And as her angry steps receded down the stairs, Konnor stood. He had no will to move. But he had to.
“Goodbye, Marjorie,” he whispered, staring at the closed door and wondering how he was going to breathe in a world where she didn’t exist.
He went to his bedroom, where three wounded lay sleeping, and quietly changed to his cargo pants, his T-shirt, and his jacket. He’d been here, what? A week or so? He’d lost count of how many days. The modern clothes felt foreign on him, as though they belonged to another life.
To another man.
He considered stopping by Colin’s bedroom and saying goodbye, but he didn’t want to wake the boy.
From the pocket of his military jacket, he fished out the watch Andy had given him. It was 5:34 p.m. The second hand on the watch ticked, cutting the time, stealing it bit by bit from Konnor.
He didn’t want to leave Marjorie and Colin. But he couldn’t leave his mother alone.
And even if he didn’t have his mom, nothing could change the fact that he just wasn’t great husband or father material. A little game of soccer and him saving the boy hadn’t changed that. He was a soldier, and it was a soldier’s duty to protect and save people. And soccer… Big whoop. Anyone could kick a ball around with a boy.
Still, he’d miss Colin. He climbed the stairs to the next floor and opened Colin’s bedroom door. It was dark inside with the shutters closed. The boy lay in the bed and slept peacefully under the blanket. Konnor found himself itching to tuck him in and kiss his forehead to say goodbye.
He put his watch on one of the chests in the corner and threw a last glance at Colin’s unruly head of hair. Why did it feel like betrayal that he was leaving him and Marjorie?
He walked through the courtyard where dead bodies lay lined along the wall. A razor blade was cutting out his heart with each step he took. He wanted to say goodbye to Muir and Malcolm and other warriors he’d fought shoulder to shoulder with. He wanted to help bring Tamhas’s body back.
But it would be better if he left now.
As he walked out of the gates, someone called after him.
“Konnor!”
He looked back. Isbeil wobbled towards him. For the first time since he’d met her, she looked tired. Her eyes were sunken deeper into her sockets, and her aged skin had an ashen undertone.
“Leaving, are ye?” she said when she came to stand and face him. Her black eyes, though bloodshot, pierced him sharply.
“Yes.”
“Hm. I thought more of ye.”
“I never promised to stay.”
She nodded. “Aye. ‘Tis true. Are ye saying the faerie that commands the magic of time travel was wrong about ye?”
He swallowed a lump the size of a boulder. “Unfortunately, she was. I have to go. I’ve fulfilled my duty here. Marjorie is safe, so is Colin. I have a person in my life who’s waiting for me, and who needs me.”