24. Amy #2
I arch a brow, the pull of my curiosity too overwhelming to resist. I try to dart to get a look at what’s in the bags before he can stop me, but he’s too quick. He grabs my waist, spinning me around, laughing. “You naughty girl. Quit that and go do as you're told.”
I stick my tongue out at him, making him laugh again. Still, I turn and head to the door leading to the balcony outside, but not before Kerry pinches my butt as I pass him. He just laughs as I squeal and rush for the door before he can do it again.
The sound of the distant crashing of ocean waves greet me as I open the door.
The full moon glitters on the water down below.
I didn’t realize that the cottage is up on a cliff, overlooking the ocean.
There are a few houses in front of us, but far enough below that it doesn’t block the view.
I tuck my coat around me as the wind blows, chilly but not unbearable with my extra layers.
The waves crash against the rocks, spraying water in the air, visible even from this angle as I sit in a wooden rocking chair. That water must be cold. But it’s hypnotic to watch.
I can see why this would be Kerry’s favorite place.
There’s something about this view that’s intense, the dark ocean stretching out endlessly before you.
I can imagine a young Kerry feeling the dangerous depths of his emotions reflected back at him in this view.
It kind of forces you into deep contemplation.
The door opens, jarring me from my thoughts.
Kerry emerges, carrying a million things.
A wine bottle under an arm, two wine glasses dangling from one hand, a large wooden tray in the other, and a plate in his mouth.
Yes, the man that rules Ireland’s underworld has the edge of a plate gripped between his teeth.
“Kerry! You could’ve asked for help!”
He just grunts in response, and I quickly stand to take the wine glasses and bottle, setting it on the glass table between the chairs. He sets a charcuterie board down, and then grabs the plate out of his mouth. It’s a plate full of chocolate covered strawberries and truffles.
I huff. “As if I wasn’t full enough from dinner.”
Kerry laughs, opening the wine with a bottle opener he had stashed in his pocket, the stubborn man. “Yes, but what’s a honeymoon without some wine, chocolate, and cheese? Besides, I’d love nothing more than to sit out here with you for a few hours.”
I hadn’t even realized there was a small steel box fireplace in the corner of the patio.
There’s already some logs in there, ready to go, and Kerry opens it and works on starting a fire.
I smile as the heat of it washes over me.
I scoot my chair forward, and Kerry chuckles, dashing inside before I can even say anything.
He returns a moment later with a couple of blankets, and wraps a big fuzzy one around me.
He sighs as he sits on the chair next to me and pulls a blanket over his lap, too. We’re both silent for a long moment, staring out over the ocean. It’s comfortable, peaceful.
“Never thought I’d have this.” His voice is quiet, as if he whispered it to the wind and not to me.
I turn to look at him, and he’s watching the ocean intently, brows furrowed.
When he notices me looking, he turns his intense gaze upon me instead.
“Someone to sit here with. To think with. Someone I can let my guard down around.”
I smile, knowing that he really means it. “Me neither. It’s just kind of always been…me. Alone in my solitude. I assumed it always would be. Especially when my grandmother told me about the arranged marriage, no offense.”
He chuckles, arm slipping out from beneath the blanket to find its way under mine and intertwine our fingers. “None taken. I can’t imagine how you felt, not knowing me as I knew you. Not even being raised in the mafia world. I still can’t believe how much they didn’t tell you or prepare you.”
I nod, looking out over the ocean. Now I’m the one feeling the depths of my emotions reflected back at me in the view.
“Especially knowing they’d planned for it all along.
You’d think they would’ve talked with me more, coached me since I was young.
But they didn’t. They didn’t say a damn thing, not a single one of them. ”
Kerry scoffs. “It’s disgusting, really.”
“I agree,” I say quietly.
His hand squeezes mine, tight enough to ground me somehow. “How are you doing, dealing with cutting them off?”
I exhale softly, my breath fogging up around me before catching on the wind and drifting off.
“Better than I thought I’d be. It’s still hard, don’t get me wrong.
If I think about it I tear up, but…when I’m going about my daily life?
When things are drama-free, happy, and I don’t have to frantically worry about regulating other people’s emotions?
It’s great. A relief. And that kinda makes me feel guilty, too. ”
Kerry squeezes my hand again, softer this time.
“I know it’s hard.” He exhales, the wind snatching away the fog of his breath.
“I never had the courage to do what you did. I wished many times I would’ve walked away from my father, but I never could.
He had his hand around my throat all the way until the end.
And even then, Marjorie’s scolded me for making choices that seemed directly influenced by him. ”
That makes me stop to think. “I guess I thought about the end of my life. What I would regret and what I wouldn’t.
I always assumed I’d regret it if I walked away from my family, but then when you came along…
well, I realized that maybe I couldn’t have both.
What would I regret losing more? A new family that treats me well and loves me?
Or a family that never did, even when they should’ve? ”
There’s a quiet pause between us for a moment. “You’re braver than you realize, little leannán. I hope you know that.”
I hum in response, my thumb stroking the back of his knuckles. We settle back into a peaceful silence for a few minutes, soaking in the serenity of the moment.
Kerry clears his throat. “Do you want an update about your family? Or would that bother you too much?”
I sit up straighter. “There’s an update about them?” He studies me closely before giving one firm nod.
I sit back and think for a moment. Would it help me or hurt me to know things about them?
It could make me feel more guilty. But honestly?
I think now that I know there is news, it would bother me more not to know.
Maybe someday I’ll be far removed from them enough that I can go along with my life not knowing, but not today.