Lost in Scotland

by Hilaria Alexander

  “I missed you, too,” I told him. I was happy for a whopping ten seconds, gazing into his eyes. Then sadness took over again. How was I supposed to say good-bye to him?

  “You could stay in Edinburgh. The apartment has been empty for weeks.” Margaret had left the apartment in November, since little Posy was finally able to leave the hospital. As much as I appreciated that he was trying to find a way for me to stay nearby, I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do.

  He glanced at me, raising one eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

  I shook my head and looked down. He sighed, sounding exasperated, and when I looked up again, he was running his hands through his hair, making it stick up in every possible direction.

  I smiled and reached for him. We needed this night to be the best one yet. I was ready to stop holding back my words and tell him how I felt. I wrapped my arms around his narrow waist and pressed my body against his.

  “Listen to me, Hugh.” That got his attention. He looked down at me, his eyes wild, dancing between my eyes and my lips. “I love you. I love you, and it’s breaking my heart that I have to leave. As much as I would like to stay, both you and I know it would end up in disaster. You are way too busy and have too much at stake right now to worry about me. Having to go back to LA sucks, but there’s no other solution.”

  He stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes searching mine, narrowing deep in thought, as if there had to be another viable solution.

  “What about us?”

  “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “You love me?” he asked, as if he wanted to make sure he’d heard me right.

  “Very much. So much that I can’t breathe if I think about having to say good-bye to you.”

  “I love you, too. You know that, right?”

  I nodded. “I know. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have stood up for us.”

  “It’s all my fault, isn’t it? I caused this. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

  “It’s not,” I reassured him, caressing his jaw, my eyes memorizing every line.

  “I just didn’t want to keep playing their game.”

  “I know.” I swallowed past the knot in my throat and blinked away my tears. There was no solution, at least for the time being. Come morning, we’d have to part.

  “Take me to bed, mo gràdh,” I said with a smile. “You better give me one hell of a good-bye.”

  That night, when we were in bed, I traced every line of the planes of his chest. We’d drunk some whisky, and after we’d lost ourselves in each other time and time again, I started muttering the lyrics of the song Cecilia and I had sung earlier that night.

  “I should have known,” he said, staring at the ceiling.

  “What?”

  “You’re a witch. A black witch. Having me fall for you like this,” he said, half-asleep, his fingers combing through my hair. “How am I supposed to go back to life before you? I am a dead man, Sam. You ruined me.”

  “So did you,” I said simply, not adding anything more. I doubted there would ever be another man like Hugh MacLeod in my life. I tightened my arm around his waist, listening to his breathing slow down until he fell asleep, his lips slightly parted, his expression peaceful. I allowed myself a couple of tears then rested my head on his chest and slept one last night with him.

  The next morning, I paced the room, waiting for my car to show up and take me to the airport. His eyes looked slightly resentful, and I was the reason why.

  I had told him we shouldn’t keep in touch, at least for the time being. I had tried to explain how hard it was going to be for me to go back home and start over—again, for the second time in less than a year. I tried telling him that waiting for his texts and calls would only make the separation harder.

  He had seemed to agree and understand at first, but now he was fighting against it, begging me to reconsider.

  I was in his arms, my head pressed to his chest, listening to the turmoil going on inside him. His hand caressed my back, and his beautiful voice echoed through his ribcage. He was listing all the reasons why we shouldn’t say good-bye to each other.

  Suddenly, he pulled back. With his hands holding on to my arms, he searched my eyes. “You know I would never do what Eric did to you, right?”

  “I know,” I said simply. I believed him. I knew he would never do such a shady thing.

  “Then why are you doing this to me? Why are you the one letting me go?”

  I’m doing it for your own good.

  “Listen. You have two more months of shooting ahead of you, and then it’s going to be a whirlwind of press tours. I don’t want you to be the one worrying about his girlfriend on the other side of the world.”

  “What if I want to worry about my girlfriend?” he asked with a smirk. “Why are you making this decision for the both of us?” He looked hurt, and it broke my heart.

  I wanted him to understand why I was doing this. He had too much at risk, too much to lose. The network had obviously come after me after he and Melissa put their foot down. What else would they do to make their point? He deserved to get the success he had been working so hard for.

  “I’m making it for you, but I’m making it for me, too. I love you, but I don’t think I can survive a long-distance relationship right now.”

  His nostrils flared, and he chewed on his bottom lip. “How can you stand in front of me, telling me you love me and still walk away?” he said, his voice booming with anger.

  “I have to,” I replied calmly, hoping he’d understand.

  “Well, I can’t accept this. I’m not going to stand here and watch you leave. I’m sorry, Sam.” He gave me one last glance, his eyes a mixture of anger and sadness. He put a jacket on and stormed out of his own house.

  Some good-bye.

  You did the right thing, I told myself as the knot in my throat turned into a sob, and the tears I had been holding back all night spilled across my cheeks.

  Sam

  The only positive thing about being back in LA was seeing my family again. Even so, as the days went by, the uneasy feeling in my chest grew bigger and bigger, making it hard for me to breathe. My dad and I hung out a couple weeks after I got back, and when I looked at him, he reminded me of the comic Cheech Marin from the Cheech and Chong comedic duo, particularly the ’70s version of Cheech. His hair was still mostly black, with only some silver strands here and there, and his mustache was full, not that different from the one he had rocked when we were kids, although these days it was even longer. We went for a hike in Runyon Canyon Park where we’d gone together many times before, but that day something was off.

  The air was wrong, and the scenery didn’t strike me the same way it usually did. The dust bothered me. There were too many people.

  I finally realized it was me. I was off. I let out a low growl in frustration. Scotland had ruined me.

  “You’re different, Samhain. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I let out a deep breath.

  “You’ll see, soon you’ll find another job.” I cocked my eyebrow. For the first time, I wasn’t worried about that. I was worried about why I felt so uneasy in a place I used to love.

  “It’s not that, Dad.”

  “Then what is it, my dear?”

  “I don’t know. It’s so strange. You have no idea how many times I wished I could be back here…and now…”

  “Now?”

  I was at a loss for words. Actually, the words were trapped in my throat, itching to come out. All I want is to go back to where I was. I didn’t dare say that out loud, worried I’d hurt my father’s feelings. How could I tell him that, after just a few months, LA didn’t feel like home anymore?

  “I was only gone five months, but I feel like I’ve lost my place in the world. I don’t know where I belong anymore, Daddy.”

  He laughed, rocking his head back and that irritated me. I glared at him.

  “It’s not funny, Dad. I’m really confused about this, and you’re not helping.”


  “My dear, no one understands you more than I do, trust me. I had a home before this home, but it didn’t feel right. Don’t get me wrong, I am very grateful my family was able to move to England. I would have never had the same opportunities in Pakistan, not in a million years,” he said with a light shake of his head. “I have been lucky, very lucky to grow up where I did, but if there’s one thing I understood when I got here, it’s that you decide where your home is. When I came here, California looked like the most beautiful place in the world. It looked exactly like the place I had dreamed of growing up. It looked like it did in the movies. I’m not saying it was easy, my child. This was a different world, and the late seventies were a messy, confusing time, but there was still that excitement, that electricity in the air. The American dream wasn’t dead back then.”

  He glanced my way and gave me a reassuring smile.

  “Am I rambling yet?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow. We kids teased him a lot about getting off topic.

  “Not yet. Keep going,” I told him, interested by what he had to say.

  “This is your hometown, but that doesn’t necessarily mean this is where you belong. You decide where your home is. If this place doesn’t feel like home anymore, no one should be forcing you to stay. Your heart will tell you where you belong.”

  I nodded. My dad was right. If only it were so simple.

  I had been longing to come back for weeks, but things had changed. I had changed, and now I felt different. Was LA not home anymore? Was that the reason I couldn’t resume my life as I’d known it?

  The Oscars were slated for March, and Amira wanted me to go with her. To distract me from my Scotland fiasco, she asked me to help her choose a look for her along with her stylist. She told me that since I was unemployed, she wanted me to be her personal assistant so she could give her own a break. I wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of babysitting my sister, but I had done it all my life—for free—so I didn’t think it would be so bad. Unfortunately, I had forgotten how many freaking parties and interviews there are leading up to Oscar week. I had to admit, however, that going through rows and rows of gorgeous dresses that had just come off the runway was a dream come true.

  “Do you know if he’s going to be there?” I asked tentatively, my stomach flipping just at the thought of him. I had been trying to get used to the idea of Hugh possibly being at the Oscars, and I was both terrified and excited at the thought of seeing him again. Despite my attempt at cutting off all contacts, we ended up exchanging a few texts. They were always pretty generic and “neutral.” It was as if both of us couldn’t afford to tell each other how painful it was to be apart.

  I missed him a lot and had been tempted to tell him many times just how hard it was to be without him but I didn’t want to distract him. I appreciated his efforts to keep us together. He’d done what he thought best. I wiped a tear away. Just the thought of him made me beyond emotional, twisting both my stomach and throat in knots.

  Amira tried putting me into a gorgeous gold dress, but besides not wanting to look like the female version of an Oscar, I was afraid the fabric was far too delicate. I had no experience whatsoever in wearing dresses that were worth thousands of dollars. In the end, we found an Elie Saab one that was a bit easier to wear and absolutely stunning. The color was an emerald green, and as soon as I saw the fabric of the dress slipping out of the garment bag, I fell in love. The bodice was covered in an intricate beading, but the skirt was wide and comfortable. The color reminded me so much of the place that had been my home for the last few months and that I missed so badly. It reminded me of the man I hadn’t seen in weeks, but that I was still very much in love with. It had a deep V-neck in the front, but it was still demure enough to secure the ta-tas. It was cinched at the waist, and I still liked it when I found out I would have to wear a small corset underneath. Unlike the gold dress, the green one was easy to move around in, and it felt incredibly comfortable. Plus, the fabric of the dress was draped at the back of my shoulders, making it look like the dress had wings. I felt like a goddess. I felt like one of the heroines from Abarath.

  “Sam, you look beautiful.”

  “You do, too, Mira,” I said, glancing at her slender figure in an Armani Privé silver gown.

  My stomach was in knots on the ride over to the Dolby Theater, and my palms got sweaty as we stepped out of the limo. A few days before the Oscars, I had read a headline that said he was going to be there with a costar. I knew crossing paths with him was a possibility. What I didn’t expect was to have him and Melissa right behind us, making their way through the line of reporters, talking about the show. There was a lot of noise on the red carpet, and I was trying my hardest not to look like a spaz while my sister was being interviewed by Michael Ausiello from TV Line. Still, my ears were so attuned to his voice, I could isolate it from everything else. I couldn’t really make out what he was saying, and I was thankful I hadn’t completely zoned out when Michael Ausiello asked me if this was my first time at the Oscars.

  “It is. I’m really excited my sister chose me over anyone else in the family!” I looked at the camera, sending Rob a message. He had wanted to come so bad so he could get exposure for an app he was fixing to launch. Selfish brat.

  “My sister is my best friend and has been one of my biggest supporters since I started out. She used to drive me to auditions before I was old enough to drive. It seems only fair that she gets to share this night with me.”

  “Have a wonderful time, ladies,” Michael Ausiello said, bidding us good-bye.

  There were at least fifteen people separating me from Hugh MacLeod, including assistants, publicists, and journalists. I briefly turned around, and as I searched for him, our eyes locked. He was standing just a few feet away from me, looking stunning in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, his hair a little longer and falling across his forehead. The intense stare he gave me took my breath away as his lips curled into a small smile, and he nodded a silent hello. I did the same, unable to hold back the smile from stretching across my face. His eyes darted back to the interviewer who was having microphone issues and had thankfully missed our exchange. I grabbed a handful of my gown and followed my sister to the next interview.

  When we reached the spot for the interview with E!, Amira cut through the crowd for her interview with Giuliana Rancic and I waited nearby, trying not to look too lost in the sea of people.

  “Sam.” His voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I closed my eyes for a second, thinking I had imagined it, but then he called my name again. When I turned around, he smiled brightly at me. Something inside my chest tightened, and the knot in my throat grew bigger. I had never known a smile could make you ache so bad. No matter the lies I had been telling myself, I had missed him like crazy.

  “Hey,” I said softly, forcing myself to smile.

  “You look beautiful.” There it was again—that sexy voice that had stolen my heart.

  The smile on my face grew wider. “Thank you. You look very handsome.”

  Melissa rounded him and threw her arms around me excitedly. I smiled brightly, looking at Hugh as I hugged Melissa back.

  “Sam! You look gorgeous! This gown is such a beautiful shade of green,” she said, taking my dress in. Hugh’s brows furrowed, and his eyes grew darker for a moment.

  “I chose it because it reminded me of Scotland,” I told them both. It reminded me of you, I wanted to tell him. His eyebrows shot up, and his eyes met mine once again, ardent with desire, full of the words we wanted to say to each other.

  I loved him. Maybe there was a chance he still felt the same.

  My confession seemed to render him speechless. Melissa, however, was being a chatty Cathy.

  “Sam, we miss you so much! The set is not the same without you.”

  “I miss you guys, too! And I miss Scotland,” I added as I saw Hugh’s eyes grow wide with alarm. “I had no idea I would end up loving it so much.” He nodded and gave me a warm smile. Melissa was su
ddenly quiet, witnessing the silent exchange between Hugh and me. An assistant called them to tell them they were next. Melissa gave me another hug, and Hugh gave my hand a squeeze. I almost threw myself into his arms—old habits die hard.

  “I’m sorry, Sam. We have to go.” His voice was heavy, loaded with a certain regret. I felt my heart sink, and I nodded, looking down, trying to hold back the tears. He leaned closer to me, but I still couldn’t look at him.

  “I will find you…later,” he whispered in my ear, causing my heart to resurrect like a phoenix from the ashes. It started fluttering inside my chest like the wings of a hummingbird. I locked eyes with him, and he gave me a small nod right before he and Melissa turned around and started climbing up the stairs.

  Amira was coming down just as they were going up, and they briefly exchanged pleasantries for the camera, acting as if they hardly knew each other.

  I loved award shows. I loved that moment right before the winning name is called, the anticipation in the air, the sudden quiet in the room that lasts a few tense seconds before the winner is announced.

  One of the things I loved the most about this business was seeing the underdog win. There’s nothing as exciting as seeing raw, fresh talent get recognized. I loved seeing the vulnerability of the actor on stage, and I especially enjoyed when they were able to deliver a message in the most chaotic and surreal five minutes of their life—bonus points if they made a speech without looking at notes. My mother, especially, hated that shit. She always said, “If you’re an actor and you’re used to learning your lines, how come you can’t learn a thank-you speech?” She talked about it so much that Amira eventually got in the habit of memorizing a few lines and names whenever she was nominated for an award. Even so, one time she’d forgotten to thank her director. I could only imagine how confusing and overwhelming that moment can be, especially when you are new to the game and you don’t expect to be taken into consideration.