23. Kerry
Kerry
“Where are we going again?” Amy says, not turning away from the window as she asks.
“Cobh. Or just outside of it, it’s a lovely seaside town in County Cork. I think you’ll enjoy it. A lovely little honeymoon spot, if I do say so myself.”
She turns and arches her brow. “Cove?” Her American accent is so strong, it makes me smile.
“Yes, Cobh.” I turn my eyes back to the road, but I can see her getting her phone out. “Now, it’s going to be a very long drive, but this place has a bit of sentimental value for me, so I knew I had to bring you here for our honeymoon.”
Amy furrows her brows. “I’m googling it, but there isn’t a Cove, Ireland.”
I laugh. “It’s spelled C-O-B-H, love.”
“What?! That’s how you pronounce that?”
I reach over and squeeze her knee. “Welcome to Ireland, leannán.”
She keeps scrolling through her phone with a confused expression. “It looks like a beautiful place. That cathedral is magnificent. But it says it’s only a three hour drive? Actually, it’s less than that. Two hours and 57 minutes.”
I arch a brow. “Only? That’s a fecking long drive, leannán. So that’s why I said to get comfortable.”
She laughs. “Never go road-tripping in America, Kerry. That’s all I have to say.”
I look at her with wide eyes before turning back to the road. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugs, turning to me with a smile. “Let me tell you, for most Americans, three hours is nothing. I’ve driven for five hours in New York without leaving it, and New York isn’t even that big of a state.”
I let out a breath. “That’s…fecking delirious.”
She chuckles and shakes her head. “Welcome to the American mindset. We’re all rather crazy. Anyways, the Painted Ladies in Cobh look really pretty, I can’t wait to see them…”
We chat on and off as I drive. She falls asleep for about an hour, and I keep catching myself looking over at her peaceful face as she rests.
Fecking hell, I’m a goner.
I’m glad I brought her here. Obviously for a lot of reasons, but in this moment, I’m thankful for the fact that she has this calm.
If she was back in New York, that’d be unlikely, with her grandfather causing a lot of trouble there.
Here in Ireland, she’s protected from all of that shite.
In fact, she doesn’t even know there’s something going on. I’ve made sure of it.
Amy rubs her eyes when she wakes up, sitting up with a stretch. The scenery has changed a good bit while she was sleeping. “So pretty…” she mumbles, making me smile.
“Welcome to my home, which is now yours.”
She exhales shakily. “Yeah.”
I know she’s still adjusting to the concept of living here the rest of her life. “Your citizenship is already almost sorted.”
She turns to me slowly, her eyes narrow. “And how did you manage that exactly?”
I fight to keep the smirk off of my face as I shrug. “It’s a need to know basis. I have my connections.”
She scoffs. “Illegal connections.”
“I’m sorry, did you think you were marrying a fecking priest?”
She bursts out into laughter, which makes a smile twitch onto my face, unable to help myself. “No. You’ve broken a lot of priestly vows.”
I scoff in amusement. “I would’ve broken those vows as soon as I made them, no doubt. Father O’Donnell would be furious.”
“I can’t imagine you as a priest.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “I guess that’s the point of your joke, though.”
I wink at her before looking back to the road. “Yes, it is, love.”
She’s quiet for a few moments, and I can tell her mind has taken her down another line of thinking. “Do you ever…wish you’d chosen a different life path? Made other choices? Didn’t get into the mafia business?” There’s no judgement in her tone, just curiosity.
I tap my fingers against the steering wheel as I consider the answer to her question. “Sometimes,” I say softly. “But it’s also what I was raised with. It’s all I’ve ever known, it’s how I know how to operate in the world.”
“Yes, but we can always learn something new if we want to change life courses. We don’t have to be stuck in roles we don’t want.” Her voice is soft, almost hesitant.
I flash her a grin. “Are you regretting marrying me already, leannán?”
I keep my tone light and humorous, but I can’t deny the anxiety gripping my chest as I wait for her answer.
I’m not used to this vulnerability; the cold, sinking fear of rejection, this need for her not to leave me.
By modern day standards, our marriage was a quick one in and under a lot of stress.
What if Amy feels like she didn’t properly think things through?
What if she feels trapped with me now? I’ve never let a person in like this, never worried what anyone thought of me, never considered myself with the thought of ‘measuring up’.
Not since my father.
Not since I was a young boy, desperate for his father’s approval. I haven’t tried to mask anything with humor since then, either.
But instead of the cutting reply that my father would’ve given me, or even the hesitation I expected from her, Amy smacks my arm.
“Of course I don’t. I’m not mad at you for being…
you. I mean, I guess I wouldn’t have chosen a criminal for a husband, but…
things don’t always go according to plan, you know?
And I did choose you. That’s what’s important. ”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “All right, leannán.”
She pokes my arm, softer this time. “I just want you to be happy and not feel like you have to stay in this…line of ‘work’ if you don’t want to. That’s all.”
I have to consciously remind myself to focus on the road.
Her words are sweet, so softly spoken, sincerity dripping from her words like honey.
I just want to stare at her. I’m not used to people asking questions like that without their own selfish motive.
I suppose, in that way, Amy and I are similar.
People are self-absorbed creatures with manipulative tendencies.
But Amy? Everything about her seems to be born of care and empathy.
Unrestricted love blooms in my heart, flaring to life like a wildfire, making the rest of the drive go like a dream.
The conversation turns to more mundane things.
Favorite desserts, best childhood memories, topics that never occurred to me to talk about with most people.
It’s strangely intimate after a life of keeping things close to my chest.
Amy gasps once we get close enough to the coast to see the water. I know I made the right decision on the honeymoon location now.
The cottage technically had been my father’s, not that he ever used it, and sits on the coastline a few kilometers from Cobh. My mother brought me here, just the two of us, when we needed a break from him.
The only real memories I have of my mother are in this cottage, hence why it was the first place I thought of when considering places for our honeymoon, which I’d been given charge of planning. In a way, I want to introduce her to my mother. This feels like the closest thing I can get to that.
Even after my mother died, Aunt Marjorie would bring me here to escape my father. All it would take was a business deal gone awry or some other bullshit reason for him to turn his sharp tongue towards me.
It’s my sanctuary. And I hope it’ll be that for Amy and I now, too.
Amy makes her way into the cottage while I bring the luggage in.
She’s holding a picture of me as a baby in my mam’s arms when I enter the front door, and it nearly takes my breath away.
Amy found the traces of my mother immediately, like my mam was just sitting at the entryway, waiting for us to arrive.
“Who are these people? It seems like someone’s house. You’d think they’d remove the personal photos before they rented out the place.” She runs a finger down the metal edge of the frame.
I set the luggage down with a grunt and kick the door closed. “I didn’t rent this. I brought you to my family home.”
She turns to me with wide eyes and then looks back to the picture.
“Wait. Does that mean the baby is..?” She looks back to me and I nod.
“You’re so cute!” Amy’s tone is that same excited voice that happens when she has an outburst of joy.
It leaps from her before she can help it and she looks hesitant immediately.
If she wants enthusiastic acceptance and love from me, she’ll get it.
“I was.” I chuckle and set our bags down, stepping behind her to wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on top of her head. “That’s my mam.” I kiss her hair. “I brought you here because this place is important to me. My mam brought me here when things were rough at home with my father.”
She turns and looks up at me with those sweet doe eyes, studying me. “You didn’t tell me that before we left. I just thought we were going to the ocean.”
I give her a small smile. “I wanted it to be a surprise. And…I’m still getting used to sharing.”
The beauty of the smile she gives me never gets old. It’s sweet and tender, vulnerable in its softness. I’ve never seen anything like it, no one’s ever given me such a gift. It’s something only my Amy could do.
“I like when you share,” Amy says with a cheeky wink. I can’t help myself, I lean down and kiss her, enjoying the sweetness of her lips and how they feel against mine. “Mm, I like when you do that, too,” She adds on with a grin after I pull back.
I kiss her forehead, and then her nose, and then her lips again. “Good. Come on, let’s get settled. I’d like to go into town and get some food here soon, maybe go for a walk in Cobh, enjoy the sunset. What do you think?”
Amy’s whole face lights up, making me smile. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled so hard in my life since meeting her. Even in the midst of my obsession, I never understood just how much I needed her. “That sounds so wonderful.”
I kiss her forehead one final time, unable to help myself, before turning and grabbing our luggage to take upstairs.
I set them at the foot of the bed, taking a moment to survey the room.
The air feels a bit stale and stuffy, but untouched.
I don’t usually stay in this room when I visit.
The master bedroom was always where my mam stayed.
But I know she’d want me to stay here with Amy.
It’s cozy. Nothing luxurious. A queen-sized bed covered with old quilts, the carpet on the floor probably older than me.
Worry prickles in the back of my mind that Amy won’t like this.
Maybe she expects me to give her a glamorous lifestyle now, one that she deserves, and this is far too…
worn out and primeval for her. Hell, maybe it’s too worn out even for me.
Perhaps I’m clinging to something that I should’ve let go a long time ago.
“Look at how cozy it is up here!” Amy appears by my side, smoothing a hand over the quilts. “These are pretty. It’s hard to find good ones like these anymore.”
I nod, brows furrowed as I look at the quilts. “My grandmother made them. My mam’s mam.”
Amy turns to me with an infectious smile. “They’re heirlooms, then. How lovely. You almost don’t want to use them to keep them in good condition, but you know your grandmother would probably want you to. It’s like a hug from her in the past.”
My mind clears of all the cobwebs with the fire of her joy. She’s right, my mam and her mother would want me to use this place to its fullest. I can feel their spirits here with me, just happy to see me at peace.
She sits on the bed and then lays back. “I forgot how rough car rides can be.”
I chuckle. “What happened to your American resilience for car rides?”
She turns and sticks out her tongue, making me chuckle. I love seeing the fire I’ve always known was there come out. “I could do more. That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t suck. Or that it’s not nice to stretch out after it.”
I poke her in the ribs. “So sassy.” I lean down and kiss her, our lips not quite fitting right since I’m perpendicular to her.
“Let’s stretch out, then, and go for a walk.
” It takes everything within me not to make a crude joke, but I know we’re both tired, and I’m not quite ready to move on from just focusing on her pleasure alone quite yet.
She raises her eyebrows, fluttering her eyelashes at me in mock innocence. “You don’t want to stretch out my body in other ways?” She says the joke for me, and damn her, I want to worship the ground she walks on for it.
I growl and kiss her forehead. “Don’t tempt me, leannán. I’m trying to be a gentleman and a good husband to my wife on our honeymoon.” I stand back up and go about setting up our luggage.
She scoffs and sits up, the old bed creaking from the movement. “You act like that wouldn’t be behavior fit for a good husband, but I disagree. A lot. Especially on a honeymoon.”
Her faith in me warms my heart, and I chuckle and hold out my hand. “Come. Let’s get some food in you and a good walk. Then we’ll see about me performing other husbandly duties. I’d really like to show you Cobh. Enjoy the sunset with my wife. Is that too much to ask?”
She smiles and takes her hand in mine. “No. Not at all.”
I wonder if this woman knows just how much she has me wrapped around her finger.