Chapter 15 #2
There. Now she might have a moment to sort through the clutter of her mind and figure out what needed to be said. And what shouldn’t.
But while the peacemakers might be blessed, she couldn’t get enough coherent thoughts for any of this to make sense. She felt exposed, vulnerable. Like the fact she’d resorted to a blind date meant he’d seen her shame and taken advantage of it again.
It was hard enough that she would have to see him next week at school, to pretend everything between them was normal.
To pretend he hadn’t hurt her months ago.
And yet, she had a sense she could keep trying to play pretend, or take advantage of this moment in the dark and actually tell him what she was really feeling. Lord? I need Your strength to be brave.
“Ash?” he said softly, using her nickname like he thought they were still friends.
Fine, then. Friends told the truth. Even if it was hard. “I thought we were friends, then you kissed me and I thought you wanted more. So when you left I felt used. I really wish you had been man enough to tell me goodbye properly,” she finally said.
He nodded. “Me too.”
“And now it feels like too late.”
“It’s not—”
“It is. Even if I wanted to, I can’t be seen having a relationship with a mentor teacher.”
His face fell. “Oh.”
“So there is no point in you talking to me, because it just makes everything harder.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” She drew in a deep breath. “Now it’s been a long, disappointing day and I need to get home.” She lifted her chin. “I’ll see you around. Or maybe not, seeing you always do such a great job at avoiding me.”
He blinked, and she pivoted and walked away. Okay, so that last truth bomb hadn’t exactly been filled with grace and peace. But it had felt good to say.
“Sorry God,” she muttered, getting into her car.
She reversed, refusing to look at where he remained standing. Until she glanced in the rear-view mirror, and saw him, shoulders slumped, hands in his jacket’s pockets, studying her as she drove away.
* * *
It was funny how that flash of heat from when she placed her hand on his chest still throbbed away. Even with the equivalent of an ice bath dumped over him, as her scorn had proved. Even with the cold seeping around him, the mist holding droplets that felt like tears.
He swallowed, refusing to let the burn of emotion begging for release have a moment’s sway.
He deserved her scorn. He knew that. Maybe not quite to that degree, but he could understand her anger.
And yet so much of what she’d said demanded unpicking. Like, had she really said talking to him made everything harder? What did she really mean by that?
And had she really been waiting for a guy called Drew? Surely she must’ve known that was his name. Well, not one she’d ever used, but he had some friends of the family who called him that. She was moving on—without him? His heart wrenched.
“Lord, I don’t know what to do.”
From her perspective it was only fair that she moved on.
He’d thought they’d barely been anything to move on from, but clearly she had thought differently.
And the fact she was upset had to mean she still liked him, even despite her protests.
Why else would she say that thing about having a relationship with a mentor teacher?
He winced. It could have been so different if he’d figured out a way to talk things through rather than letting things slide into this cesspool of regrets.
“What do I do, God?”
The whole evening had felt like a mess. First, Greta.
Then Grady’s no-show. Then the biggest regret of all, making Aisling cry.
He drew in a deep breath, then exhaled, hoping it would push out the emotions that hovered too near.
He wasn’t an emotional guy. But she’d tugged at a cord within that made him feel like he was on a tightrope of avoiding tears.
Would she ever forgive him? Would she ever believe he was sorry?
He walked home, peering wistfully at lit houses where he could see families gathered around the TV or the dinner table.
He wanted that. And not just in a shoebox of a granny flat, where his family could burst in at any time.
He wanted his own space, his own life, his own wife.
And try as he might to keep his vow to God it seemed like this feeling would never go away.
“God, I want to do things Your way, but this is hard.”
When he drew close to his home he paused for a moment and watched his family inside. He wanted that. Parents who loved each other. Siblings who cared. Regrets grew at the memory of how close the Fairall siblings were. They might bicker, but they were living proof that blood was thicker than water.
His heart panged. He bet if Aisling hated him, then her siblings would hate him now too.
His phone buzzed, and he drew it out. Then his heart fell.
Grady had sent a message. Did you have fun?
Huh? he typed back.
Grady replied: On your date.
He went inside. This conversation needed a phone call.
As soon as Grady answered Andy spoke. “What do you mean? We were supposed to meet. Where were you?”
“And good evening to you too.”
“It wasn’t a good evening. Did you know that Greta showed up?”
“Really?”
He toed off his shoes, sank onto the couch. “Why do you not sound surprised by this?”
“Look, I might’ve mentioned that we had plans, and—”
“You told her where I’d be?” He fought the urge to say a word Jesus might not like.
“It was an accident.”
“That’s bull.”
“Okay, yes, it’s bull. But I wanted you to see—”
“See what? How possessive and stalker-like she is?”
“Exactly.”
Oh.
“Where were you tonight, anyway?” he asked tiredly.
“I forgot I had other plans.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me? Grand friend you are.” Grady’s earlier words finally lodged in his brain. “Wait. What did you mean to say when you said you knew about my date?”
“You and Aisling.”
“What?”
“You and Aisling,” Grady repeated. “The blind date.”
His mouth fell open. “You set me up on a blind date with her?”
“Well, technically speaking, it was her aunt who asked my mom—they’re good friends—and I switched you for me, and told her to use my middle name.”
“You’re telling me you knew Aisling was going to be there?”
“I know. It was part of my grand plan that you’d see what a pain Greta is and you’d want Aisling instead.”
“She was there waiting for a guy called Drew to show up, and he never did.”
“Grady Drew Wayne didn’t show up, no. But you did.”
“She saw me with Greta earlier, which only made things worse.”
“Oh. Are you trying to tell me it didn’t work?”
“It didn’t work,” he snarled. “She as good as told me she never wants to see me again.”
“Ah. That’s not ideal.”
“You think?” He closed his eyes, exhaled slowly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.”
“Well, now you know. And now I don’t know what I can do to fix things with her.”
“I thought you didn’t want to date.”
“That’s beside the point,” he snapped.
“Is it, indeed?” Grady smirked.
Andy’s fingers clenched. “Why did you set me up on one?”
“Because I’m an eejit?”
“Yes, you are!” Resentment, so quick to flare, as quickly faded. “But I appreciate the thought.”
“Well, it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?”
“Not always, no.”
“What can I do?” Grady asked in a small voice.
“You could go and explain to her what you did. I’m sure that’ll go over well,” he said sarcastically.
“That’ll be grand.”
Andy sighed. “Why did you have to interfere? I was managing things myself, you know.”
“Except you weren’t.”
True.
“Sometimes we need a helping hand, even if the result doesn’t always go according to plan. Look, I gotta go, but just think about what I’ve said, okay?”
“Make sure you talk to her,” Andy said. “And apologise. You owe us both that much.”
“I’ll not apologise for making your life better.”
“It’s not better,” he grumbled.
“Ah, but it will be. I can feel it in my waters, as my old grandmam liked to say.”
An expression Andy had never wanted to explore too closely. He hung up, and stared through the darkness, the lights of the TV and laptop gleaming in the dark.
“God, is there any way You can sort this out?”