Chapter 33
thirty-three
CIAR
If his life could get suctioned any deeper down the shitter, Ciar would be impressed. With Tina’s hateful assistance with Imogen—to be fair, Tina was generous and loving to his daughter. He was managing work and fatherhood well.
His boss, Anders, had promoted him, not just promoted, but he made Ciar a shareholder of the business. The man was creative in every aspect of his life except for the name of his company—Anders.
Ciar managed his own team and collaborated closely with Anders on major client accounts. He was in a plane flying all over the world more often than sleeping in his bed, but he made sure to only fly out after Imogen’s bedtime and never be gone more than two to three days.
He felt plenty of guilt for missing any moments of her day, but he made every moment count when he was home. Nothing fell outside his duties; bathtime, story time, bottles, and poopy diapers.
He’d just gotten in early that morning from a quick trip to Spain, where Anders had him look over a brokerage that was wanting to sell. There was a meeting at the office in the morning, which meant he had the whole day home to spend with his wee one.
Tina had just stomped out the front door, as though his presence offended her, which it must, because she’d never warmed to him, when the doorbell chimed. He hurried to answer before it woke Imogen.
He only placed a formula order thirty minutes ago. Must be a slow morning. He tapped the video monitor next to the door and saw three frowning, white-haired faux triplets.
Oh, shit. Dagr, Daniel, and Jonathan.
The door opened, and he was greeted with a hammer fist to the face. Daniel. Jonathan growled, “Fuck, Dan. Not the plan, bro.” Ciar retaliated and punched Daniel in the stomach, knocking the air out of him.
Jonathan punched Ciar in the stomach, and Ciar punched Jonathan smack in the left eye, causing Jonathan to swear. Dagr barked, “For fuck’s sake,” before he entered the melee.
It became a free-for-all as the four men wrestled across Ciar’s foyer. At that point, he had no idea where his punches were landing and who was taking swipes at him. He was pretty sure everyone was punching indiscriminately at that point.
Until “The fuck,” Daniel yelled. Ciar pried his swollen eyes open as far as they would go in time to get doused with water. Squinting, he managed to make out Tina dumping water over the lot of them, her face red and rigid.
“Of all the imbecilic, juvenile behavior,” Tina muttered. “I have never witnessed anything so ridiculous in my life. Get your arses off that floor and park them at the kitchen table before I make more use of this glass vase than watering you toddlers.”
None of them dared naysay Tina’s orders and, with moans and groans, gingerly separated their limbs from one another to limp to the flat’s only table.
Tina stood with her hands on her hips, practically vibrating with censure. “Do you knuckleheads hear that? Do you?” she hissed.
Ciar could hear the faint stirrings of Imogen stirring in her crib and groaned.
She stomped into the kitchen proper and sat about making a bottle. “You have woken a child up with your nonsense. You boys,” and she pointed at all four of them, “will behave and shake hands, or I will set about to box all of your ears.”
She slammed her hand on the counter, causing all of the men to flinch. “Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused.
Before she could take the bottle to his daughter, Ciar said, “I thought you were gone for the day.”
He blanched when she turned her furious gaze his way. “Do not sass me, boy. You’ll regret it and then some.”
“Christ Almighty,” Daniel groaned.
“Ballbuster,” Jonathan muttered while dabbing his bloody lip with the tail end of his shirt.
Dagr was touching the swelling around one of his eyes and cheek, before grumbling, “We had one plan. One.”
Ciar carefully got up, barely holding back whimpers of pain, to lay out several kitchen towels and fill them with ice.
He handed the packs out like treats before finding his seat again. Nothing was said for a few minutes, and honestly, he was glad for the silence. This wasn’t a social visit, clearly, and he wasn’t in a hurry to hear what they wanted.
After five more minutes had passed, Dagr broke the silence. “We came here to speak with you, Ciar.”
“My broken face and ribs say different.”
“Gray’s been crying. You deserve worse, you piece of shit,” Daniel barked, groaning as his split lip started to bleed again.
Hearing that Gray had been crying destroyed him. Christ, but he hated himself worse in that moment than any other.
“You’ve done nothing to fix this, Ciar,” Jonathan slammed his fist on the tabletop to drive his point home.
Tina came storming out, holding a drowsy Imogen in the crook of her arm. “One more outburst,” she threatened. No one wanted to hear the end of her threat.
“Apologies,” Jonathan shook his head in regret.
Dagr asked, “Can we see your child?”
Tina answered before he could. “I’m not letting this sweet girl anywhere near you streetcorner thugs. Finish your business,” she sneered the word business, “and get out.”
Ciar didn’t bother getting on to the older woman. He wasn’t that brave.
“It’s still weird to see three of you,” Ciar wondered aloud.
They ignored the reminder that Dagr and his dad were new family. “We’re only here to know whether you plan on letting Gray go for good. She is under the impression that you two are long done.” Dagr gave his best badass solicitor’s stare—or as badass as he could give with one functioning eye.
“I’ll never be done with Gray. I understand that I’ve blasted every good intention to hell and beyond and have not done one thing right when it comes to her. I had so many dreams and ideas. I still have them, damn it.
“What can I do? She came here and saw Imogen and thought the worst, and I never got a word in.”
“She thought the worst,” Daniel huffed in fake amusement. “Of course, she thought the fucking worst, you moron.”
“She doesn’t know everything. She actually knows next to nothing of it,” Ciar slung back.
“Did having a child make you a pussy, Murphy? You can’t make one woman listen to you for five minutes?” Jonathan demanded.
Ciar didn’t immediately defend himself. Truly, he didn’t have a leg to stand on, but it did kill him to hear what his best friends thought of his behavior.
“The building you purchased for you and Gray is finished?” Dagr asked, the most even-keeled of the three cousins.
“It is. She doesn’t know.” His dad had encouraged him not to let go of his dream, and even though he didn’t know all the details of what was between him and Gray, he never failed to support his only son.
“Then you have somewhere to move your family and work on getting Gray to hear you out. Christ, Ciar, if this were Bébhinn we were speaking about, I would lock us in together until she agreed to listen. It’s your only chance, and only if you truly have a good reason for all the lies,” Dagr shrugged, giving him some benefit of the doubt.
No one knew why he made the decisions he made, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted them to. Even Gray, as much as he died inside when he thought of never holding her again.
“Your only chance,” Daniel echoed.
A look passed between Daniel and Jonathan that Ciar couldn’t decipher. They were keeping something from him. Could Gray have moved on? He tried to swallow the rage that threatened to erupt.
“I can only move if Tina agrees to come with us. She hates me, but she loves Imogen.”
“I’ll move, you idiot,” Tina announced as she walked out of the hallway, where she’d obviously been eavesdropping. “This apartment is too small. I need my own space.” Sniffing, she disappeared as soon as she’d appeared.
“Well,” was the only thing Ciar could fumble out. “It looks like we’re moving to Dublin.”