Epilogue
FINN
Damien
How’s it going, mate?
Shea
Did you try those breathing exercises I suggested?
Niall
Just write everything down first. It’ll be grand.
Finn
I’m really regretting giving you eejits my number.
Shea
Don’t listen to him, lads. That’ll just be the nerves talking.
Damien
Why is he nervous? I wasn’t.
Niall
Not even a little? By the way, you never even told us how you asked.
Shea
I bet he asked her mid-shag.
Damien
You make it sound slutty. I had candles, okay? Doesn’t change the fact that I wasn’t nervous like Finney.
Niall
FINNEY?! Omg, I’m changing your contact name on my phone right the fuck now.
Finn
For fuck’s sake. I’m not nervous.
Shea
Liar.
Niall
I call bullshit, Finney.
Damien
Do you think she’ll say no? Is that why you’re nervous?
Finn
You’re fired. The lot of you.
“Who are you texting?”
“What? No one!” I exclaim in one breath before looking up and shouting, “Christ, Ash! Stay on the road.”
“I am on the road!”
“The right side of the road!”
“You mean the left.”
“Yes—which is the right side. The correct side. The side you can’t seem to stay on.”
“It’s not my fault the road is narrower than a stick of gum. How are you supposed to stay on any side when your car can hardly fit on the road itself, Finn? Answer that!”
Giving Ash driving lessons is likely the dumbest decision of my life. But, as of two months ago, she officially became an Irish citizen, so I guess she will need to learn eventually.
Right before I ask her to marry me, though? Not especially good timing.
I might die of a heart attack before I can get down on one knee.
She makes another sharper-than-necessary turn, and I try not to grip the dashboard. Teaching her to drive during peak tourist season probably wasn’t smart either, but it’s the first weekend we’ve had away in a while.
That, and teaching her on a country road in Clare is a lot less hazardous to our health than a busy street in Dublin.
Ash’s first year back in school was hard. Harder than I think either of us realized. I don’t know if it was the curriculum or the challenge of going back to school after so long, but there were times when she really struggled. I can’t count the number of evenings I would come home and find her asleep on the couch with textbooks scattered around her.
With the changes I made at corporate, I actually have free time now, and she doesn’t. It’s sort of ironic, really.
But we made it work. She not only survived that first year, but she conquered it, even when her RA flared up due to the added stress. My girl persevered.
She has one more year of post-grad work left, and then she is considering several different career options. Personally, I hope she goes the professor route, but that is purely for selfish reasons.
What guy hasn’t had the hot professor fantasy a time or two?
The song on the radio ends, and local news takes over. I begin to tune it out until the woman transitions to sports. “Football fans are filling the streets of Dublin today as?—”
I turn it off.
“Not a football fan, Finn?” she teases.
“I can’t believe that thick arse is still playing.” I shake my head.
Ash just shrugs, and I wince. The movement causes her to jostle the wheel, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s just as bad a driver on the other side of the road. “It doesn’t matter. It will all catch up to him eventually if he doesn’t learn from his mistakes.”
I don’t believe Theo is the type of guy who knows how to grow like that.
When he left that night, having nearly scared Ash to death and admitting he’d been trying to win her back for his own personal gain, we thought he would confront the consequences of his actions.
He didn’t. Instead, he returned to his bosses at Arsenal and fabricated a ridiculous story about losing the love of his life due to his addiction.
His sex addiction.
He was now revered for his honesty as he faked a genuine illness other people struggled with, and his sex appeal practically doubled in the process.
So, win-win for Theo.
Ash was okay with letting everything go. Water under the bridge and all that, but I would always have that image of her in that hallway, wide-eyed and scared as he pressed her against the wall.
No, there would be no water under the bridge as far as Theo Vasquez was concerned, and it was no coincidence that we were out of the city this weekend while he was in it playing against the Rovers.
As for the rest of the proposal…
Her friends have all assured me it’s perfect, but…what if it isn’t?
My gut starts to churn as we get closer to our destination.
What if they’re all wrong, and I botch this whole thing—this whole weekend, and my romance novel-loving girlfriend forever remembers the day I proposed as one of the worst days of her life?
Bollocks.
Is it hot in here?
* * *
Aisling
“You know, I actually think I’m starting to get the hang of this?”
“Definitely,” Finn agrees. “You barely clipped that sheep back there.”
“I did not clip a sheep, Finn!” From my periphery, I can see his shoulders shaking with laughter. “You suck.”
“Sorry, darlin’. You’re doing a fine job, really.”
“Don’t try and sweet talk me. I know what you’re doing.”
“Oh, and what’s that?” I swear his voice drops an octave, and I feel it all the way down to my core.
I focus on the country road we’re on in the middle of…somewhere. It’s early summer, and I feel blissfully stress-free. It feels good. After the stressful first year of grad school, it’s like exhaling after holding my breath forever.
Given what we’re doing on this road trip, the fact that I’m in such a good mood speaks volumes about my mental health and how far I’ve come since moving here.
Over the last few days, we’ve been spreading my mom’s ashes all across Ireland. It’s been something I’ve been wanting to do for months but could never bring myself to do.
It was always the wrong time.
I couldn’t pick the right place.
And then, finally, Finn suggested this.
Why settle for just one location when there are so many? We could journey across the country to pay tribute to the woman who cherished this land almost as much as we cherished her.
We initially planned to take the Heritage Tour, but we didn’t want to place that kind of pressure on the poor tour guide, who ultimately ended up with the CEO on his bus.
That, and we didn’t exactly want a bus full of people surrounding us when we scattered her ashes.
So, we hit the road—just the two of us, and although I thought it would be a sad trip, it’s honestly been the opposite.
Every time we stop at one of my mom’s favorite places, I feel increasingly connected to her—like she’s right there with me. I’ve never been one to believe in fate—well, not until I ran into a certain Irishman on the street in Dublin—but I can’t help but think that my mom had a hand in guiding me here.
I glance at Finn for a moment. I did not clip a sheep. I wasn’t even close. “Making your accent so thick and calling me darlin’? That’s cheating?—”
“I can make my accent thicker?”
“Of course you can. You’re doing it right now!”
“Wow, it feels like a superpower I never knew I had. Now, I just need to figure out how to remove your knickers with a single thought, and all my life goals will be achieved.”
“Pretty sure my knickers coming off is rarely an issue when you’re around. Ripping on the other hand?—”
“Hey, I bought you replacements. Most of which are still intact. Oh, hey—turn here.”
I do as instructed, and something about this feels familiar. Then we see a sign. “Wait, where are we going?” We only have one destination left, which is my Aunt Lonnie’s, and we’re not due there until tomorrow. Today, we were supposed to drive to Shannon since I’d never been there, but we’re nowhere near Shannon. In fact, we’re headed for?—
“The Cliffs of Moher?” I ask as we pull into the parking lot about twenty minutes later. “What prompted the change of plans?”
He gives a nonchalant shrug. “The last time we were here, it was foggy. When we woke up and the weather was clear, I thought it might be a good time for a redo.”
“Oh,” I say. “Okay, cool.”
We get out of the car, both stretching our legs as I look around. “Oh, hey, look!” I point to the O’Connell buses in the distance.
“Bring back memories?”
“Shea once told me we should have had sex in the bus when it was parked like that.”
He laughs. “Oh, trust me. I thought about it.”
I walk around and meet him at the other side of the car. We walk side by side, just like we did the first time we were here, only this time he is able to hold my hand.
This time, we don’t have to pretend we aren’t falling for each other.
There is absolutely no fog today. The sun is high in the sky, and although it’s a little chilly for June, that first glimpse of the cliffs is completely worth the light coat I had to put on.
“Oh, okay, so that’s what I was missing.”
Finn laughs. “You didn’t miss all of it. The fog did lift a little.”
My eyes scan the horizon. It’s endless. “A little, yeah, but this is—” I’ve now lived in Ireland for over a year, and I’m utterly convinced I’ll never get over how beautiful it is.
I glance over at Finn and realize he isn’t looking at the cliffs; he’s looking at me. My stomach flutters from the intensity of his gaze. “I think this is the spot where I realized I loved you. Not necessarily the spot I fell, because that wasn’t just one place. I fell for you little by little—from that first moment in Dublin to now—I’ve never stopped falling for you. But that foggy day on the cliffs is when I realized I never wanted to let you go.”
Oh, god.
Gravel crunches behind us, and, distracted, I turn just in time to see?—
“What the—are you serious?” Standing there, grinning like total fools, is… everyone . Every single person who matters to us. Damien and a very pregnant Erin, Shea and Torey, Niall, and Rian. Maggie and what appears to be every single Farrell from Clare. “How did you all get here?”
“O’Connell Tours, baby!” Rian answers.
The bus. Of course.
I turn around and see Finn already down on one knee, holding a sparkling diamond ring in his hand. “What do you say, mo chroí? Will you marry me?”
I’m trying desperately to hold back tears and failing miserably. “That depends.”
He grins. “On what, darlin’?
“Will I be Mrs. Larkin or Mrs. O’Connell?”
He doesn’t even wait for me to answer as he begins to slip the ring onto my finger. He pauses midway and stares up at me. “As long as I get to call you mine, nothing else really matters.”