Highland Fling - A Funny Chick Lit Romance (COMPLETE)

We're Meant to be Together

 Seriously, Gaby? Your ex-boyfriend and week-long fiancé stands at the door and all you can think to ask is a query about the details of his journey?

Ryan blinks and then grins, whipping a huge bunch of flowers from behind his back. He's chosen all my favourites—Carnations, Alstroemeria and Gypsophila—and the flowers cover about half of his body. This is one super expensive Interflora purchase. I take them from him and stare at the man I used to see every day, who now seems like a total stranger. He is thinner than he was, but it suits him. Across the street I spot Mhari on her way to work, her mouth rounded in an 'o' and her attention half on the scene before her and half on the phone. Terrific. Another update to the Lochalshie WhatsApp group.

"Um, come in," I say, anxious to get him off the doorstep before Mhari wanders over to join us and introduce herself.

Mena sees the flowers and Ryan, and hisses, arching her back. Her fur stands on end, making her twice the usual size. "Woah," Ryan stares at her. "I thought you hated cats?"

"Shush!" I put a finger to my lips, illogically afraid Mena will overhear and be hurt. Besides, it's no longer true. Mena, the cat I used to nickname Little Ms Mean, captured my heart some weeks ago and I'm now a paid-up member of the crazy cat lady club. I busy myself putting the kettle on to boil and feeding Mena. Ryan puts the flowers on the table in the kitchen and moves about the house, speculating on its price. I pour boiling water into mugs and panic for a second or so. I've forgotten what Ryan, the man I lived with for five years, takes in his coffee.

Milk. And I've none, seeing as I don't. I hand the mug over anyway and he grimaces and then resets his face to the devoted ex-boyfriend visiting estranged ex-girlfriend expression.

"Do you want a seat?" I ask and decide to show off Kirsty's house's best feature—the chairs in the living room that allow you a perfect view of the loch. It's a beautiful morning, the sun high in the sky already and although clouds take up two third of the sky, they are the white fluffy kind and not the too-usual dark-tinted ones that signal rain isn't far away. A gentle breeze ripples the surface of the loch and we watch birds crest and dive the waves.

As a salesman, Ryan isn't short of words most of the time but I see him put his coffee down and twist his hands together. Perhaps the seven-hour drive up here wasn't enough time to rehearse whatever he wanted to say. "Gaby, I—" he begins at the same time as I jump in with a 'how are you' inquiry. It was that, or I would ask what time he left the house again. I'm interested. Ryan hates early mornings.

"It's been a funny few months," he says. "Not having you in the flat. I've missed you. A lot, it turns out."

Here's the weird thing about Ryan. He's a car salesman, albeit part-time as in a small family business you do all sorts, and therefore he ought to have the gift of the gab. If you can charm people enough to persuade them to splash out tens of thousands of pounds on a heap of rusty metal, doesn't it go without saying you're able to speak the words of love and want without difficulty? Not so with Ryan. His proposal had the feel of someone who'd asked Google 'how do you ask your girlfriend to marry you', and he and I rarely bothered with the exchange of 'I love you's'. I thought that was because we didn't need to say it or that we weren't saps, but since then I wondered if we didn't say it because it didn't apply. Habit's a hard thing to break and me being with Ryan was comfortable, easy and routine. When you've been with each other since school, you have no idea what adulthood without someone by your side is like. I found out it wasn't half as bad as I'd once feared.

He turns his hands up as he talks and I notice they tremble. "Do you want something to eat?" I jump to my feet. Cooking will serve perfectly as a distraction from a conversation I'm not sure I want to have. He nods and then stands too. "Though I could do it if you want? I'm a dab hand at scrambled eggs these days."