Chapter 66
66
CONOR
A t half past one in the morning, Conor quietly let himself inside Gavin’s house. There were no lights on, though he saw a glow coming from the back garden. He put his bag down and walked toward the open door that led to the well-manicured yard.
Gavin was lying in a chaise lounge with his head in Sophie’s lap. The hanging lanterns and outdoor fire pit provided soft, romantic lighting.
“My whole family,” Gavin said with a pronounced slur. “I don’t understand why my whole family has betrayed me.”
“Shh,” Sophie said softly before leaning down and pressing her lips to his forehead for a long moment. “Just hold on to me.”
Conor watched the scene for longer than he knew he should. It was a view into an intensely private and intimate part of their marriage.
“Well, I’ve made it,” he finally announced, forcing a smile. “Shall we start the real drinking, then?” He held up the bottle of whiskey he had brought.
Gavin sat up and struggled to his feet. Sophie stood with him and put her arm around his waist to steady him.
“Aye, Con,” Gavin said slowly. He went to him and wrapped his arms around Conor in a sloppy hug. “You are my brother, right? You, I can trust with my fucking life.”
“That’s right, Gav. That’s right,” Conor said.
“Fuck ’em,” Gavin said and released Conor. He turned his eyes heavenward and shouted, “Fuck you all! I don’t need yous anyway!”
Conor winced and then looked at Sophie. Her eyes were filled with tears. She looked helpless.
“I mean,” Gavin continued, this time mumbling to himself, “I never had me ma in all these years. So what have I lost? Nothing. And Ian—we may be related, but that means nothing. He’s been waiting for this day, waiting to tell the world what he really thinks of me.”
“You ready for another drink?” Conor asked. “I know I could use one.”
“Sure, yeah. Why not?” Gavin replied and led the way back inside.
“You okay, honey?” Conor asked Sophie, taking her hand.
“Yeah. It’s just hard knowing you can’t do anything to help,” she said.
“You’re doing everything you can, and that’s enough,” he replied, and received a quick hug of thanks in return.
They found Gavin in the living room, passed out on the sofa. He was lying on his back, breathing heavily through his open mouth.
“Let’s at least turn him on his side,” Conor said, ever conscious of the cliché of a rock musician choking on his own vomit while passed out.
“You must be exhausted,” Sophie said.
They sat at the kitchen table together in the near dark, having left the lights off and with only the outside lanterns for illumination.
Conor tipped the bottle of Redbreast 15-year-old whiskey over one of the tumblers Sophie had brought out, filling it halfway. He then filled the other a quarter full and pushed it toward her.
“A bit tired, yeah,” he admitted, and knocked his glass against hers before downing the contents. He should have savored the drink but he craved the warm buzz he knew it would provide.
Sophie sipped hers and stifled a cough.
Conor smiled at her. Though the liquor was of the highest quality, it still went down harshly for her, reminding him that she was a woman of intriguing contradictions, at once sophisticated and innocent. Even when he thought he knew her, she could still surprise him, and that kept him wanting more.
“Colette wanted you to call her when you got in,” Sophie said.
“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered as he refilled his glass. “She called you?”
Sophie laughed, amused. “Yeah, right after you left for the airport. She told me quite pointedly that you two are together.”
He tossed back his second glass, trying to buy time to sort out how he felt about all of this.
“She seemed happy, Conor. You think you really like her?”
“I do, indeed,” he replied honestly. “Though, she’s different than what I’m used to. A bit of a challenge.”
Sophie nodded and sat back. She absently swirled the remaining whiskey in her tumbler, sinking into her chair.
“Thanks for coming back so quickly,” she said. “Gavin thinks the world of you for good reason.”
“I wish he hadn’t said that thing about trusting me so much.”
Sophie looked up at him. “Why?”
He looked at her with eyebrows raised for a long moment, hoping he wouldn’t have to say aloud what they had skirted around for years.
“Oh, you mean …”
“Yes, that.”
“The thing is,” she said, trying to keep her tone light, “it’s just a sexual attraction. So, it’s really pretty harmless.”
He started to grimace in denial of this characterization before catching himself and acquiescing with a small nod. She had always been quick to accept his attraction to her as nothing more than surface-level. How could he be disappointed by that, though? He’d set it up for her to rationalize it that way years ago, after all.
“Yeah,” he said as he helped himself to more whiskey. “That’s all it is.”
“And even then, it’s really probably just your defense mechanism to keep from getting close with anyone else.”
He laughed. “You’re saying I have intimacy issues?”
She touched his hand and smiled at him playfully. “It’s okay. I hear a lot of men have that problem.”
He would gladly let her tease him all night long, especially if it meant she would touch him while doing it.
“I mean, you do have a pretty terrible record with relationships.”
“You’re judging me based on the wrong criteria. I’ve had the relationships I’ve wanted.”
“So that means all you’ve ever wanted is short-term flings with beautiful but vapid girls?”
“Ouch,” he said, and laughed. “They haven’t all been vapid.”
“But they have been short-term. What’s keeping you from being serious with someone? Afraid you’ll end up compromising your cool, controlled image?”
“Honey, the whiskey has gone to your head,” he said, and she laughed.
“Probably,” she said.
He studied her for a moment. It was no wonder, after the day she’d had propping up her devastated husband, that she looked disheveled and tired. Her blond hair was pulled up into a ponytail, but several strands had fallen loose. Her eyes lacked their usual shine. At the same time, his heart ached with how beautiful he found her. Then he almost laughed out loud, thinking of the fact that he was starting to feel something for Colette and yet still couldn’t shake what he had for Sophie.
“Conor?” Sophie said at length.
“Hmm?”
“How on earth is he going to get through this?”
“He’ll just have to, Sophie. What other choice does he have?”
She nodded reluctantly, unconvinced. “You’ll stay here tonight? I can make up the guest bedroom for you.”
“Sure. I’m ready to pass out myself.”
They went upstairs together and he helped her put fresh sheets on the guest bed.
“Sleep well,” she told him.
“You too, honey.”
After hesitating a moment, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him. He held her to him. And when he felt her body tremble as she let herself release the tears she must have been holding off all day, he pulled her even closer, wanting to somehow take on the burden she’d long claimed as her own. It was the burden of being Gavin’s emotional caretaker and it was finally overwhelming her. That she could be this vulnerable with him was bittersweet. He didn’t want her to be in this kind of pain but he was glad she could share it with him.
Rocking her slowly from side to side, he let her cry and closed his eyes, taking in her lovely, familiar scent. He kissed her temple and whispered soothing words of comfort to her.
At last, she pulled away from him and stared up into his eyes. “Thank you,” she said, her voice hoarse, “for being here for me”
“Always, Soph,” he replied.
There was a long moment where she watched him and it felt like their own moment of intimacy. Like some kind of understanding they were sharing.
But then she took a step backwards and said, “See you in the morning.”
It took him a long while to surrender to sleep that night as his mind raced. He knew he wasn’t doing himself any good by indulging his feelings for Sophie, especially when he now had Colette taking him seriously. In the end, he decided it was best to help Gavin as much as he could and then after that return to a single-minded pursuit of Colette. He convinced himself at that moment that she had the potential to be more than just a distraction.