Chapter 45 Padraig
forty-five
Padraig
Three Weeks Later - Christmas Day
Christmas should feel warmer than this.
After all, the entire McGloughlin house is full of festivity.
Brennan and Cillian, arms around their wives, talk loudly about their plans for babies on the way. Seamus beams as he passes his baby son, Elias around.
Marcella, his wife, brought her entire family this year.
For the first time ever, Ma has a rival in the kitchen.
Marcella’s chef sister, Rosa, has cooked every one of the Delgado Christmas delicacies.
Da planted himself in the kitchen, tasting everything as it comes out of the oven while Marcella’s father tells stories about their restaurant.
Liam’s in the middle of the fray, laughing harder than I’ve seen in years at Torin, Tristan and Jude, who rip paper, shout over toys and spread the mess of joy across the floor. Lila helps Raff with his Lego tower while Teagan attempts to knock it over every time they make progress.
It should be everything I ever wanted.
Instead, I feel like crawling under a rock.
Stevie should be here.
I glance over at sullen Isla. Curled into the corner chair, eyes fixed on her phone, stubbornly pretending she doesn’t notice her mother’s absence. The test confirmed what I already knew in my bones. Isla is mine. She always was. Knowing it hasn’t made any of this easier.
Instead, it led to a fight so brutal between the two of them, Stevie told me to take her to my townhouse for a while to cool off. “A while” has turned into three weeks where she refuses to be in the same house as her mother.
I tell myself time will help. Therapy gives us tools.
Patience. The younger kids absorb more than I expect, but nothing soothes the fracture.
I see Stevie’s face every night, hear her voice every morning.
She’s in agony. I hate she’s next door without her kids while I’m here pretending to celebrate with most of them.
Stevie and Kellan are spending his first Christmas at her parents’ house. Isla refuses to speak to her, so this was the compromise. Split up the family when she should be here and we should be there. Every part of me aches for us to be together, messy or not, figuring it out in the open.
Instead, Isla’s anger has stretched into something seemingly unfixable.
Dinner passes by as noise swells and laughter rises around us. During dessert, I watch Seamus and Marcella slip outside with Elias and wonder how long until I can get the fuck outta here.
The front door opens. I glance up, expecting Seamus and Marcella to come back inside.
Instead, my whole body stops.
Stevie.
She steps inside with her coat open, hair swept up, cheeks red from the cold. Too familiar in this family to feel like a guest.
My immediate reaction is to cross the room and invite her in. Get everything aired out in front of the entire family.
Then Isla shifts in the corner, shoulders stiff, eyes darting up for the first time all night.
I realize now’s not the time. Not tonight. Not like this.
The words tear out of me before I can think. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Everyone in the room halts, shocked. Connor’s glass hangs halfway to his mouth. Liam’s brows lift, sharp and curious. I’d made a lame excuse about her spending the day with her own family and with all the chaos of the day, no one has said a word.
Now, all eyes are darting between the two of us, including all of our kids.
Yet, Stevie doesn’t flinch. Her gaze finds mine, steady as ever. “I know.”
It lands like a stone dropped in water, ripples spreading into every corner of the room. My feet carry me out before anyone speaks, the hall stretches long and dark. Behind me, I hear the whisper of her steps following.
I push through the door to the guest room and sink down onto the edge of the bed, staring at the floorboards like they might give me answers.
Weeks of silence and slammed doors play back through my head.
Enduring the near silence in the townhouse where I convinced myself I was protecting her.
Holding the pieces together with patience and hope.
All its done is let the fissure in our family spread.
The door closes behind Stevie, shutting us away from the awkward laughter and clatter in the kitchen.
Her face is pale, eyes rimmed red, but there’s steel in her spine. “This isn’t working, Padraig. We can’t go on like this.”
“What could I do?” I press my palms to my knees. “She wouldn’t look at you. Wouldn’t even stay in the house. I thought giving her space might—”
“No. She needs us. Not space. Not silence,” Stevie interrupts me.
“Her world has been ripped apart. She’s angry.
Betrayed. All of the things. She’s a teenager.
She can’t fix it alone. Isla needs both parents to show up.
Even when it’s brutal for one of us. Right now, we’re letting her grief steer this family off a cliff. ”
The truth of it rips through me. I thought I was shielding Isla, but I’ve been hiding. Taking her pain onto my shoulders until it weighs on everyone else too.
“I don’t want her to feel abandoned.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Not by me. Not ever.”
“You did not abandon her.” Stevie kneels in front of me, grounding me with her presence.
“But you are abandoning yourself. And us. We have four other kids who need their dad. We can’t keep living apart if we’re going to get through this.
If it takes counseling every single day, then we do it.
But together. Not split down the middle. ”
Her hand slips into mine. “I love Isla more than life. This entire situation kills me. I can’t stand by and watch you disappear into her pain. We have to lead as parents. United. Even if she hates us for a while. Especially then. I know all of this hurts you too. It’s time to put it aside.”
The words sting, but they lift something too. I squeeze her hand. “So what do we do?”
“If you love me and our family,” her eyes shine with tears, “we face it. All of it. Together. Now.”
Her certainty pins me, and for a long moment I can’t speak. Finally, I let the words out. “I know you didn’t keep her from me on purpose. I see it in you, every time you look at us.”
Her shoulders drop, relief cutting through her tension, but I don’t let her exhale fully before I go on.
“But, Stevie… I’ve had a daughter all these years and I didn’t know.
I’ve missed birthdays, first days of school, nights she cried herself to sleep, all of it.
There’s a hole I don’t know how to fill.
I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt or sweep it aside because it’s easier. ”
Tears slip over her cheeks. She doesn’t try to defend herself, which almost breaks me more than if she’d fought.
I take her in my arms and press a kiss to her temple.
“I need you to let me work through this. I won’t run from it, but it’s not something I can fix with one promise.
It’s going to take time. For me, for Isla, for us. ”
Her breath shudders against my lips, but she nods. “Then we’ll give it time, but can we do it together?”
“Aye, baby.” I nod furiously. “Yes.”
For the first time since everything came to light, I feel the ground steady under me. Not solid, not safe. Something squishy I can stand on while my core tightens. I let myself believe maybe we’ll find our way back. Not only to Isla, but to all of us.
“Why don’t you go get her,” Stevie encourages.
I stand and make my way down the hall. The living room’s bustling with activity. Isla’s on the couch, legs pulled up, arms crossed tight. She looks up when she hears me, eyes full of suspicion.
“Let’s go talk.” I gesture for her to follow me. “It’s time to clear the air.”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m fine here.”
“Aye, well.” I gesture more forcefully. “Nevertheless, let’s go. Please.”
For a beat, she studies me to see if I’m being serious. Which I am. Deadly. A moment later, she stands and shoves her phone into her hoodie pocket. Rather than following me, Isla pushes past me and heads for the bedroom. I follow, feeling every ounce of her stubbornness.
When we close the door behind us, Stevie stands. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
Isla doesn’t answer. She hovers by the dresser, arms folded, chin tilted up like armor.
I take a breath. “We don’t want to overwhelm you. The New Year is around the corner, and it’s time to start finding a way through this. Together.”
“Together?” she scoffs. “You didn’t even know I was yours until a few weeks ago.”
The words sting because they’re meant to. “You’re right. I didn’t. We all found out the same moment you did. It’s been tough for all of us to wrap our minds around for different reasons. We’ve spent the last couple of months focused on what it means for you. What it takes from you.”
She doesn’t look at me.
Stevie steps closer. “Honey, I swear to you. I never knew. If I had, everything would’ve been different. I would’ve told Cooper. I would’ve told Padraig.”
“You expect me to believe you?” Isla snaps, tears flashing.
“Listen to me, Isla.” I wrap my arm around her stiff shoulders. “Your mom didn’t mean to keep this from you or from any of us. Cooper never knew either. He died believing he was your biological dad. This situation wasn’t some scheme.”
She shrugs me off her. “Wait, you’re suddenly fine with all of this? She let another man raise me. You don’t care you missed out on my whole life? She must have a golden pussy.”
Stevie cries out in anguish.
“Isla Mae,” I admonish, though the anger in her voice twists deep in my gut.
“No, I’m not fine with it. I hate it. I wish more than anything I’d had those years with you.
None of us can change the past. What I need you to know is this.
I’ve loved you as if you were mine from the second I met you.
I never wanted to take Cooper’s place. He was your dad, and I respected your relationship with him.
Me being your biological dad doesn’t erase him. It never could.”
Her lip trembles, and for the first time she lets her arms fall.
“I get you’re going through it.” I turn her so she’s facing me and tip her chin up to look me in the eyes. “Let me be clear about one thing. Do not speak to your mother disrespectfully ever again. What you said to her was abhorrent.”
Stevie quietly sobs behind us. “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t.”
The room goes quiet as I release my daughter and turn to the woman I love. Isla drags her sleeve over her cheek, sniffing hard. I can see the storm in her. Anger, grief, confusion. She’s sixteen, and the ground beneath her keeps shifting.
We all turn to the door when a soft, hesitant “tat tat tat” echoes in the room.
“Come in,” I rasp.
The door cracks. Da peeks in first, Liam close behind him. Stevie starts to shake her head, but I hold my hand up. “Let them in.”
My twin and father step inside carefully, as if approaching three wounded animals, which I suppose we are.
Rory’s eyes land on Isla, and he softens in a way I rarely see.
“Lass. I’m not here to meddle. I only want you to know something.
I was a terrible father for a long time.
Made mistakes that’ll haunt me till the day I die.
And the worst part of mistakes is how they fester, how they make everything rot from the inside.
Don’t let this do the same to you. Your mum—” he gestures at Stevie “—I’ve known her since she was a wee girl.
She’s kind, strong, fierce when it comes to protecting the ones she loves.
She would never hurt you on purpose. Not ever. ”
Isla’s eyes widen a fraction.
Liam steps forward then. “As for him,” he gestures toward me, “Padraig’s my twin.
He’s my soul. He’s the best of us. Selfless to a fault.
He’ll give everything he has away and think nothing of it.
But what he deserves, what he’s always deserved, is for his family to be whole.
All of it. Not just you, your brothers and sister too.
You’re what keeps him breathing. I hope you can forgive both of them, because I can’t watch him break. ”
His voice cracks on the last word.
I’m speechless. Stevie and I aren’t alone in helping to mend Isla’s trust. The McGloughlins are stitching ourselves back together, too.
Isla swallows hard. “You make it sound so easy.”
“No, love. It won’t be easy.” Stevie shakes her head. “It’ll take time. Patience. Forgiveness. But we’ll walk through it with you every step. You don’t have to figure it out alone.”
For the first time all night, Isla doesn’t argue.
She sinks onto the bed between us, her body rigid but present. Da and Liam slip out, leaving the three of us alone.
I reach out, and after a long pause, she lets me take her hand.
A small step toward a new future.