Chapter 36
36
Aidan
T he look on Lis’ face nearly killed me. The disappointment. The resignation. And ultimately the acceptance that I was leaving her to the wolves. I could see them circling with their teeth bared, ready to descend on her.
I hope with all my racing heart that Maryse didn’t hear as much of my phone call as I think she did. I can only imagine how she would spin things if she had half a mind to.
I cringe thinking of the way she smirked at me like she had the world’s juiciest secret.
This day could fuck right off.
I’m relieved that she’s okay. She looks fantastic, actually. She’s sitting at the small table at the back of the pub, feet on the chair across from her, smiling down at her phone.
“Hey, how are ye?” Lorna’s head pops up at the sound of my voice and a huge smile breaks across her face.
“Aidan—God, it’s good to see you.” She struggles a little as she stands, rolling her eyes at my offered hand. “I’ve got it, come here and give us a hug. I’ve missed you.”
I wrap her up in my arms, relief washing through me.
“What are you doing here? Should you be traveling like this?” I pull back and look at her round belly.
“Yeah, I’m fine for a few more weeks.” She smiles softly as she rubs her hand across her bump. “I missed you, Aidan, a lot. I needed to see you before—before this has me all tied up. How are you doing?” She sits back down, reaching for the other chair to prop her feet up again.
“I’m good, really good. Can I—let me get us a couple drinks, are you hungry?” She shakes her head and I pop into the kitchen to grab myself a sandwich and crisps.
The hors d’oeuvres from the cocktail hour are long gone and I’m starving. I throw a couple extra pickles on my plate, not because it’s a pregnant cliché, but I’ve known Lorna forever and pickles are her thing.
I set the plate down and grab a water for her and a pint for myself.
“Did ye put extra pickles on here for me? You’re a prince, man. God love ye.” She’s tearing into my plate without abandon.
“Jesus, d’ya want your own?” Lorna smiles at me and around the bite of turkey sandwich—my turkey sandwich. I push the plate in front of her and head back to the kitchen to make another for myself.
Francie pokes his head out of the tiny office off the kitchen. Pinning me with a glare, eyebrow cocked, he silently questions me. “Francie, she’s just here for a visit before the baby comes. That’s all.”
“Not the way it sounded earlier when she showed up.” He folds his arms, resting them on his paunch trying to make himself look the part of the stern father.
“Lisbeth?”
I cringe, knowing I deserve his judgment for this. “She’s at the wedding reception, her sister’s. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”
“I don’t like it, Aidan.”
I feel like an arse for leaving her there, but what other choice did I have?
My thoughts run in a muddled mess as I turn back to rejoin Lorna.
Holding my plate out of her reach, I drop a few more pickles to hers.
“You’re lovely, ye know that? Mmm, so good.” She mumbles, brushing the crumbs off her hands. “Sorry, didn’t realize I was so hungry until I saw yours. So, you’re good? Better? Ready to come home?” Lorna bobs her head from side to side while taking me in. “You’re dressed awfully posh, were ye out, then?”
“I am good, much better, and I was out. At a wedding, actually.”
“You’re working again then? That’s fantastic. You’re far too good at what you do to waste time tending bar and mucking about.”
“I am, but—” My words forgotten when Lorna grabs my hand and places it on her belly, pressing it flat.
“Was that? That’s the baby moving?”
“It is. He’s really strong.” She says gently.
He. It’s a boy.
“I’d like to name him Michael Aidan. After the two men who mean the most to me.”
“Lorna, that’s—I-I’d be honored.”
It’s not fair that my brother is missing all this. He wanted to be a father more than anything. It kills me knowing the last thing he did before finding out his death sentence, was create this life. He should be here. He should have his hand on his wife’s belly, feeling his boy kicking and rolling and moving. These moments should be Michael’s.
Lorna slides both hands over the top of mine, holding me in place. She talks quietly, telling me everything will be okay. Soothing me, like I’m the widow facing this alone. I cover my face with my free hand, letting the tears come.
Not the wracking sobs from right after his death, but silent sad tears mourning Michael’s loss of this gift. Tears for this child having to grow up not knowing his father and the man he was. Not truly knowing how desperately he was wanted.
The slamming of the pub door against the quiet of the room, pulls me out of my moment. I wipe my tears and take some deep breaths, pushing down the pain in my heart.
“I’m sorry. I thought I was over it, but—God, he’s really gone. And this sweet child will never know him.” I brush at the tears that continue to fall.
“I know. Believe me, I understand. I’ve done nothing but cry and ask why for months.” Lorna slides my pint across the table. I take a healthy draught and steel myself.
Of course, she has. She’s been alone through all of this. Dealing with the pain and the guilt and the loss of her husband. Knowing she’s going to have to be both mum and dad to this child.
“There is a way.” I lift my head and meet her eyes, hesitancy clouding them.
“There’s a way for what?”
“For his father to be in his life. For him to know Michael in a sense.” Lorna’s voice wavers with uncertainty.
I shake my head, not understanding what she’s trying to say.
“Come home, Aidan. Come home with me and…we’re a good team. We can do this. Together.” Her plea, the only thing sounding in the pub.
“What?” Not sure that I heard her right, I search her face, fear written all over it.
“You were close to Michael. You were there with me through everything.” She can’t mean it. “Aidan, you’re the only one who truly understands. He would want you to be a part of his son’s life. You’re so much like him it would be like his father was here. Please.”
Nonononono . “Lorna, I can’t take Michael’s place. I?—”
“Sorry. No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have asked. Shouldn’t have even implied.”
She’s a flurry of nervous hands and false laughter, not meeting my eye. “I should have gone on a beach holiday instead. This was a mistake. I’ll—I’ll just call a cab and go. I’m sorry.”
“Lorna, stop. You can’t just turn around and go. You’ve got to be exhausted.” She’s staring at her bag, sniffling quietly. “Come on. Let’s get you settled and we’ll talk in the morning, after you’ve slept.”
She nods and wipes at her cheeks.
“Where are you booked in?”
Still not meeting my eye, she replies barely audibly, “I didn’t book anything. I-I thought I could stay with you.”
I run my hand down the scruff on my jaw and nod once, pulling my phone from my pocket. I need to call Lis and let her know we have a guest tonight. Shit, I need to call my mum and let her know that Lorna’s alright. That she’s here, I’m not sure that she’s alright. Swiping at my screen I see a text from Lis.
L: At Gracyn’s. Staying here tonight.
A: Sounds good. Need to talk in the morning.
I grab Lorna’s bag and guide her out the door, feeling eyes on me the whole way. Holding the door, I catch Francie leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, the corners of his mouth turned down. I know he’s worried, but it’s Finn who makes me pause. Hands braced on the bar, his eyes are narrowed and full of disgust. And they’re aimed right at me.
He throws the towel to the bar and brushes past Francie, muttering feckin’ bastard . I’m all but certain I hear the sound of his fist hitting the wall as the door shuts behind me.
Lorna falls asleep on the short drive to my flat, exhausted, I’m sure from the travel and emotions resurfacing. Wanting to wake her gently, I smooth her blond hair back from her forehead. “Lorna, we’re here. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
I take her bag straight back to the bedroom pointing out the bathroom and kitchen on the way. With Lis spending the night at Gracyn’s, it makes sense for Lorna to have the bed. I grab a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from the dresser before turning to face her.
“I’ll take the couch. My girlfriend is spending the night at her friend’s flat, so just make yourself comfortable. I’ll, erm—I’ll let her know you’re here and we’ll all chat in the morning.”
“Girlfriend? You’re living with her? Is it—is it serious?”
She wraps her arms around herself, again keeping her gaze from meeting mine.
“It is. Go to sleep, we’ll talk tomorrow.” I drop a kiss on her forehead and wish her a good night. My heart breaks for Lorna as I head down the hall.
I loosen my tie and grab some blankets and a pillow from the hall closet, throwing them to the couch.
Relieved to see nothing new from Lis, I call my mum, peeling off my suit while I fill her in on Lorna.
Lis
I can’t stay at this reception any longer. I have smiled and nodded politely through all the comments about everyone assuming it would be me and Rob getting married. I have answered all the tacky questions about when Rob and Maryse “started” dating. I stuff down my desire to tell every single one of them what a lying cheating bastard he is and how much they deserve the misery of each other.
But I don’t.
I sip my drink, far slower than I want to. It’s the same one I started the night with. Aidan was supposed to be by my side for this. He was supposed to be my buffer from all of these shitty meddling people. When he told me he had to leave, that Francie called with an emergency, I tried to be understanding. I tried to have a brave face.
I tried.
I set the watered-down whiskey on the table with a sigh and reach for my bag to order an Uber and meet Aidan at McBride’s.
Somehow, I’ve been able to avoid Rob’s parents. Do they know he cheated on me? Do they care? I don’t know. I’ve managed to avoid Maryse and Rob, too.
Until now.
Like she’s on a mission, Maryse bustles through her audience cutting off my escape. “You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?” Hand on her hip, champagne glass in the other, she literally blocks me from leaving.
I paste a smile on my face. “Of course not, Maryse. Congratulations to you both and thank you for inviting me to celebrate with you. Your wedding was just lovely.” My words are as fake as our relationship and it shows.
I try to step around her, but she’s not done with me.
“Where’d your date go? Couldn’t keep hold of him either?” she sneers.
“What? For the love of God, Maryse, leave it alone. You won, okay? You have Rob, and really, Aidan wanted to thank you both for that in person, but he had to leave unexpectedly. There was an emergency and he had to rush off.”
I have never understood why she hates me so much, but this is the end.
“Mhmmm—his emergency . I heard him on the phone earlier, have fun dealing with that…again.”
Why? What is wrong with these people?
The Uber driver tries to make conversation, but I have nothing more for him than an occasional uh-huh , and a thank you when I hop out at the pub. Thinking my night can’t get any worse, I step through the door and my heart—my heart stops.
I close my eyes, trying desperately to convince myself that I’m not seeing this. When I open them again, my heart cracks, the pain slashing through my chest almost convinces me I’ve died from this.
I drag my gaze to the bar and see Finn seething at Aidan. The sound of a pregnant woman soothing Aidan as he rests his hand on her belly, his shoulders shaking. Telling him they’ll be okay.
That’s what truly breaks me.
Hopeless and destroyed, once again, in less than a year, I turn and walk away from the man I love. But it’s worse this time. So much worse.
Tears stream down my face as the door slams behind me.
What am I going to do? Where am I going to go? I can’t go home. Home. God, I can’t do this.
On autopilot, I head up the street to my old apartment praying that Gracyn is home. My mind is blank but spinning a hundred miles an hour. My car, he has my car. Kate. Gracyn has a new roommate. I shake my head, running up the stairs. I don’t know what I’m going to do if they’re not here. I knock on the door and wait. It’s Saturday night, they’re probably out.
I knock again, pleasepleaseplease falling off my tongue.
“Gracyn—please.” I call into the crack of the door.
“Lis, honey, what happened? Come here.” The sound of her voice, here at the door of this apartment—Gracyn ushers me in and when my back hits the wall, I slide down to a heap on the floor. Down into the misery of another broken heart. Down into the familiar place of despair and confusion.
I let the sobs wash over me and cling to Gracyn. Just barely registering when she hisses, “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
I cry.
I sob.
I fall apart tucked into Gracyn’s side. And once again, a wad of tissues is thrust into my hand as my best friend soothes my hair out of my face and rubs my back.
“Hey, come on, Lis. Tell me what happened. Where’s Aidan?”
All I can manage through the hiccupping sobs is to shake my head. I can’t say the words. I can’t. I want so much for this not to be real.
“Oh shit.” Kate huffs out as she walks out of my bedroom—her bedroom. What am I going to do? “Do we know yet if this is a chocolate cry or are we going straight for the tequila?”
“I sure as hell need some tequila, maybe a dull steak knife to castrate the bastard,” Gracyn grits out. “I warned him—I told him I’d cut it off if he broke her heart. Jesus.”
It should bother me that Gracyn and Kate are talking about me like I’m not here. But their murmured threats and plans to take care of me, protect me, calm my sobs to a steady stream of tears.
“C-can I stay here tonight? I can’t go home, G.” Kate’s face is filled with sympathy as she pushes up off the floor and heads down the hall. “Sorry. I don’t—I can find somewhere else.”
“Why would you do that?”
Glasses clink in the kitchen before Kate comes back around the corner. Dropping a t-shirt and leggings on the back of the couch as she passes, with her hands filled with tequila, my bottle of bourbon, and a couple shot glasses.
“Go get changed, Lis, we’re gonna need the whole story.”
After changing into Kate’s clothes and scrubbing my face, I shuffle back into the living room and drop down in the corner of the couch. Gracyn hands me a box of tissues and a tumbler of bourbon while Kate finishes sending a text—from my phone.
“What—did he send a message?” I hate the hope bleeding through my question, my voice still thick with tears.
“You let him know that you’re spending the night here.” Kate glances down as my phone pings. “And he says he wants to talk in the morning. You ready to spill?”
She powers my phone down and sets it in the kitchen.
“This whole day can eat a dick.” I gulp down half my bourbon and revel in the warmth as it slides down my throat. “I was leaving the reception to catch up with Aidan, and Maryse had some shit comment about him running off and that she heard all about his emergency and?—”
“Wait, he left you at the reception? What the hell?” Gracyn plops herself on the other end of the couch.
“Yeah, he had a bunch of texts and missed calls. Francie was blowing up his phone. Said there was an emergency and he needed Aidan at McBride’s immediately. So, he left and, the things people will say—unreal.”
As bad as the wedding was at the time, relaying the horrors of it are far better than thinking about what comes next. I know the wait is killing Gracyn, but she gathers all her patience and fills my tumbler while I tell them about Tyler at the church, the comments at the reception. I even laugh at some of the shit people thought it was okay to ask me.
“But why did he leave you, Lis? What was the big issue at McBride’s?” Gracyn pushes me, knowing I’ll avoid this as long as I can.
It’s not cold in the room at all, but I pull the blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping it around me. When I have that settled, I reach for a throw pillow still feeling far too exposed. Hugging it to my chest, I blow out a big breath readying myself for opening the scabs and scars on my heart.
“I walked into McBride’s and he was bent over a pregnant woman with his hand on her belly, crying.”
I almost can’t get the words out. Tears stream down my face again, the little details I couldn’t process at the time are all I can focus on now. The way they held hands, the soft way she looked at him. The sweet lilt of her voice as she talked about this baby—their baby.
“She’s Irish, I heard her talking, shushing him while he cried over her. Telling him…” I have to pause. I grab tissues from the table and wipe my tears.
I’m so sick of crying.
“Telling him what, sweetie?” Kate folds her long legs into the chair across from me.
“…that they can get through this together. That everything will be okay, now. They were both folded into each other, crying and holding on to the baby between them. This is worse—so much worse.”
The pain where my heart used to beat is excruciating. It’s off the pain scale. The pile of tissues on my lap is growing with each passing minute.
“Maybe…maybe it’s not what it looked like?” Kate offers hopefully. “How pregnant do you think? Could it, I don’t know…”
“It doesn’t matter. Tonight, we drink and eat ice cream. Tomorrow, we’ll deal with this shit.” Gracyn nods, her plans made, everything in its tidy little box.
I just can’t with this whole thing. I reach for the bottle, filling my tumbler again.
I fell asleep curled into the couch with Gracyn tucked into the opposite end. My face is swollen from crying, my head hurts from bourbon and I drag myself into the bathroom to see just how bad the damage is.
One quick glance in the mirror and I get the shower going. With my forehead on the cold granite counter top, I dig deep, building the wall back up around my heart. With repetition, comes strength. There are so many sayings for moments like these. Lemons and lemonade. Bootstraps. Not getting more than you can handle. I run through them like a mantra as I shower and grab some clothes from Gracyn’s room.
I braid my hair, and tiptoe to the kitchen, grabbing my phone. There are no new messages when I power it back on. Just the one Kate sent last night and Aidan’s response.
I order an Uber and jot Kate and Gracyn a note. Gracyn would go with me in a heartbeat, but I need to do this alone. I grab a coffee from the bakery across the street and send Aidan a text that I’m on my way.