Chapter 10 #2
He shook his head wryly. “It’s not something I advertise. Who wants to be the man who didn’t make the Olympics?”
“Well, plenty of people are exactly that person. Look at the rest of us here.”
His lips curved.
“Most people don’t even get the chance to dream of going, so you did better than most to get as far as you did.” Aisling sipped her glass of water.
He shrugged. “It’s still not something I’ve quite reconciled with. Like, I know God has good plans for me, but I still struggle to see how any of that worked out for the best.”
“I think sometimes those things are mysteries for us to learn to live with, so we can trust Him more,” she said thoughtfully.
Hmm. He slid her a look. That hadn’t been the sort of response he’d expected from her.
“Like, what if what looks like the heavenly ‘No’ or the unanswered prayer is actually God protecting you from something else? Or preserving you for something better?”
Huh. His parents and sisters had said something similar.
That perhaps God preventing him from going to the Olympics had been His way of exposing Greta’s fickleness, and protecting him from a lifetime with someone who didn’t truly love him.
The fact that Aisling recognised the same felt a little special.
Like she cared enough to notice and think about him and not give a pat answer.
He glanced at her as Rory and Aidan talked quietly.
Aisling was studying her glass, as a water droplet slid down the side.
Pensiveness wasn’t something he expected from her.
So who was she? The firebrand with a dominant personality like the woman he’d first met?
Or this softer, thoughtful version who might make him risk his heart?
He blinked, reared back. No. He couldn’t think like that. Could he?
Her head tilted, and she glanced back at him, her lips curved in a small smile. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” He’d never admit to what he’d just been thinking.
She sipped her drink, her gaze shifting out to the water again. “You know, I think sometimes it’s easier to complain about what we think God is doing than take a step back and consider there might be some godly method to what might look like madness.”
He nodded, his heart softened by her encouragement.
“It’s not easy, especially when you’ve spent your life working towards a certain goal, only to have it ripped away from you when it feels like it’s so close.
” And that was true of both his Olympics dream and the other one that should have happened a year ago.
Sometimes planning could only take you so far.
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes held compassion.
But it didn’t feel like pity.
It felt like acceptance. Understanding. Like she understood him on a soul deep level.
The sun gleamed on the water, and glinted in Aisling and Rory’s hair. He wondered what Aisling was thinking. He’d been worried that she’d feel embarrassed after yesterday, but today she’d been fine.
“So, Andy, what are you doing tonight?” Aidan asked.
“I didn’t have plans,” Andy admitted. “I often schedule things a lot for work, so I’m trying the novelty of taking each day as it comes.”
Aidan sipped his drink. “And how is that working out for you?”
“It’s mostly okay. I know I tend to micro-manage so I’m always trying to do better.”
“Sounds like you and Aisling would balance each other out,” Rory said. “Ash could probably do with a little more structure in her life.”
“Rory,” Aisling said in a hushed voice. “I can’t believe you just said that. I’m not a slacker.”
“I’m not suggesting that. Just that sometimes you may find it easier to relax than complete a task.”
Aisling eyed her with a frown.
“Hey.” He waited as Aisling’s attention turned to him. “I know I need to learn to relax. Rest is important. So is having fun.”
“And Ash certainly knows how to bring the fun factor, don’t you?”
“Oh my gosh,” she muttered. “Now she’s making it sound like I’m a party girl.”
“I don’t think your sister meant to suggest that.” Except, it did sound a bit like that.
Aidan’s phone buzzed, distracting Rory. Leaving Andy to peek at her sister and wonder what she was thinking of. She sighed, playing with her paper straw.
“So today’s exercise didn’t bother you?”
Her smile was more like a grimace. “In case it escaped your notice, my skin always feels bothered by exercise.” She pointed to her face. And yes, it was flushed still. “I’m sure I look like a tomato.”
He chuckled. “You look fine.”
She sighed. “Just what every girl longs to hear. That she looks fine.”
He sipped his drink, suddenly nervous. Was she hinting that she wanted him to say something more?
What had she asked yesterday? That’s right.
She’d wanted to know if he thought if she was pretty.
And he’d said without a moment’s hesitation that yes, he thought she was.
So for that to descend to mere levels of “fine” could be considered a challenge.
Except he was in no position to admit his attraction to her.
He didn’t want to stir up feelings he couldn’t reciprocate.
Which meant he needed to tread very carefully.
Somehow the conversation steered around to what to do later, like dinner and a movie, and somehow he found himself agreeing to join them in Kilkenny.
“Mind you, I don’t know what’s playing,” Rory said. “But sometimes it’s not so much the movie as it is the experience of being elsewhere and going out.”
He glanced at Aisling, who was biting her lip. “Did you want to go?”
Her nose wrinkled. “I really don’t want this to seem like a setup. I’m happy not to go if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m happy with whatever.” Although on second thoughts, hadn’t he just realised the importance of not stirring things up? Maybe he should decline, and avoid her, and say—
“In that case, let’s do it. It’ll be fun, even if the film is dumb.”
He swallowed. Nodded. So much for avoiding her.
Her smile flashed. “You know, for someone who wanted to go to the Olympics, you seem pretty relaxed about things.”
“I’ve had some time to learn to deal with plans not working out.” He studied her. “How did you find out?” Had she Googled him? If so, why?
She blushed. “It’s not like you aren’t in the newspapers.”
“I haven’t been in the newspapers for some time.” Which was just the way he liked it.
“We might have found an article online,” Rory said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
He shrugged. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t really, but what was he going to do?
It wasn’t like he could wear a big placard that said ‘Please don’t look me up on the Internet’.
But he hoped their investigation had stopped there.
He suspected there might be a corner of the Internet somewhere that had news about his failed relationship with Greta.
And he’d really prefer to be the person talking about that, not having Aisling’s opinion of him shaped by what she had read online.