She’d thought her son had come over today because he’d finally listened to reason and wanted to check in on Caitlin.
But no.
Instead, he’d marched right in and handed back the pendant!
No wonder Keira was furious. If it had been her, Carla would have lost her temper too.
There’d been a glimmer of hope between Farrell and Caitlin—at least until now. After this debacle, even that faint hope had probably vanished.
The more Carla dwelled on it, the angrier she became, and she found herself itching to give Farrell a good smack.
Farrell, hearing her words, looked sheepish—he knew he’d acted rashly.
If he’d known Caitlin and Freya were the same person, not even wild horses could have dragged him to return that pendant!
But here they were.
In his ignorance, he’d managed to offend Keira beyond repair.
Farrell raked his fingers through his hair, frustration written all over his face. “Mom, is there really no way to fix this?”
He liked Caitlin.
He liked her—a lot.
Carla narrowed her eyes at him. “Weren’t you the one complaining that Freya was divorced? What now? Suddenly you can’t get her out of your mind?”
Too late for regrets now.
“It’s not like that,” Farrell protested. “Mom, do you remember that girl I told you about, the one I met after I got back, the one who really stood out to me?”
At that, Carla’s eyes widened as if a light switched on. “Wait—are you telling me Freya is that girl you’ve been talking about?!”


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