Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
brIDGET
I've always loved Erin and Cavin's house, with its rustic charm and modern upgrades, but what I really love right now is that we have privacy, including from her overbearing husband.
Erin likes to feed me when I'm in the kitchen, and today I'm not complaining because I am ravenous. The nausea has abated a bit, so it only comes in spurts now, and it feels good to be able to eat again. Anyway, sometimes food is a love language and armor all wrapped in one, like therapy.
I'm sitting at Erin's kitchen island, both hands wrapped around a smooth ceramic mug, sipping my tea. Erin is moving around the kitchen as she always does until she finally turns around and faces me. Her eyes are misty, and she has that look that sometimes makes her look so much older than she is.
“How long have you been carrying this alone, Bridget?” she asks.
“Well,” I say, picking at a thumbnail. “Since I found out. I found out the night that Declan got shot.”
I brace myself for anger or some kind of lecture, Erin's voice going sharp because she's my older sister and protective. Or for the silence that means she is processing things in her own way. Or maybe a stern word about family and politics and the reasons why this is impossible.
I had braced myself for all of that, but this is my sister, and she loves me the way sisters do, in a way that’s sometimes oppressive and stifling, but exactly what I needed.
Erin crosses the kitchen in four steps and sits down right beside me so we’re touching, just like when we were little and I'd climb into her bed after a nightmare.
“I'm not angry,” she says. “I'm just trying to understand how you've been walking around with this, and you didn't tell me. Why didn't you tell me, Bridget? Don't you trust me?”
The look of plaintive pain on her face makes me want to cry.
“Of course I trust you,” I say with a sigh. “But you're married into the McCarthy family now, and you're loyal to them. I didn't want to put you in a difficult position with Cavin and everybody. You know that.”
She nods.
“You're the first person I did tell, you know, after Declan. But I didn't even mean to tell him,” I say. Then I tell her in a rush of words how he crashed into me, saw the vitamins and the pamphlet, and how he knew.
Erin sniffs and wipes at her eyes. “You're my sister. We’re all the family we’ve got now, Bridge.”
“I know.” The backs of my eyes are hot because I didn't expect her to react like this.
“And you're going to have a baby,” she says slowly, like she's piecing it all together. “There's a baby. Well, two, really. We’re having babies together!”
I laugh ruefully. “I know. But it’s just…
” My voice trails off. It’s dangerous to hope for.
“Seamus doesn’t know, Erin. None of them do.
And let’s be honest, there’s a very real possibility that when he finds out, he’ll ship me and the baby off to be exiled with our parents, if he’s feeling merciful. ”
She doesn’t deny it. Erin’s no fool.
And then Erin is putting her arms around me, just like she did when I was sick and in the hospital, weary and wanting to give up. It's never been dramatic with us. Just a slow and quiet unraveling sometimes.
My shoulders droop, my face pressed against my big sister's shoulder, and the breath I've been holding for weeks finally comes out all at once. My voice is shaky, and I'm going to cry again, and maybe we'll just have to cry for a little while.
Erin holds on and doesn't try to fix things. She's just here, and I need that right now.
After a while, I sniff.
“I thought I was having a relapse,” I say. “At first.”
Erin sits very still. “Aye. We all did.”
“When the nausea started, the tiredness, I was just… I was certain, you know? I had the whole thing planned out in my head. How I'd tell Dr. Rosenberg, how I'd tell you, how I'd…” I stop. “How I'd tell Declan.”
Because what's the use in hiding it now? “I was terrified, Erin. And instead it turned out to be this.” I pause. “At first, I didn't know if that was worse or better or what.”
“Of course it's better,” Erin says furiously. “Obviously, that's better, Bridget. Anything is fucking better than you getting sick again.” Her voice ends on a sob, and I’m reminded of how much my illness and her endless vigils cost her.
And then I'm holding her.
“I know,” I say. “I know.”
She pulls back, and I wipe my face with the back of my hand.
“It was just, at the hospital, when I looked at the test and thought… This is Declan's. Because it could only be Declan's. You understand that.”
“Of course I do.” She nods. “So how did Declan react?”
I smile. “He cried, Erin, then kissed me and told me that he would make it right.”
Erin nods. She's not surprised.
“I didn't want him to feel responsible because, you know, fuck.” The words aren't coming out right. “I know it's Valentina and the alliance and the family breathing down his neck, and it's one more thing to manage in a sea of difficult things to manage.”
Erin's hands are still in her lap. She stares at them. “We've said from the beginning that things about Valentina haven't added up. I don't know if it was her family or what, and that Bronwyn doesn't really like her, but…”
“I know,” I say. “I’m afraid it's just that we all hope they don't.”
“Exactly.” She exhales. “There are things that Cavin doesn't discuss with me, operational things, because he doesn't want me to be complicit if shite goes down, according to him, anyway. But things are different now, and I think it's because Keenan’s sick.”
I nod. “I know. Declan's said as much.” Nobody wants to say it out loud, but the responsibility of fortifying this family is on all their shoulders in a way it never was before. In a way that means they don't have time.
I think about the dinner. About the way Valentina smiled, sitting with her hands in her lap, her expression smoothing a half beat too late.
It seems like she's acting, and I don't understand the intricacies of it. Don’t we all perform when we’re out of place?
And why is she nothing like the person she is online?
“I don't know,” Erin says, “but here's what little I do. Cavin's been trying to reach her family and is getting nowhere—her brothers are always traveling, always unavailable. She's here, the wedding's in place, and she's pushing to move the date up.”
“But is it just the way things always are with the McCarthys? I mean, we know who they are, Erin.” And we were raised in the Irish mob ourselves, though our family was smaller and less influential. We’re not like “normal” people.
“Don’t know. Listen.” She straightens. “We're going to find you somewhere safe.
I don't know exactly how or where, but we will.” She frowns.
“You know, I advocated my arse off for you to be here.
Pushed for it and fought for it, and Seamus wasn't having any of it until…” She blows out a breath.
“Until I told him that you were my sister. And if I was staying, so were you. And you know the McCarthys will not have anything to do with divorce.”
She looks at me steadily. “Seamus has always held the line where the family's concerned.
It's not really cruelty; it's just the way things are. Expected. It’s very black and white, so I don’t blame them, not really.
Our father made choices, and in their world, those choices have consequences.
Exile was a mercy from the beginning, practically revolutionary for him, going from execution to exile.
But you know, it wasn't Cavin or me who talked him out of it, Bridget. It was Declan.”
I blink. “What are you talking about?”
“You know Declan's always been loyal to his family,” she says, “but he's loyal to you in a way that nobody else really understands.”
I understand it. Every divination card I’ve pulled, every tea leaf I’ve read, every sign I’ve looked for from the universe has said the same thing over and over: soulmates.
I twist the crystal around my neck. It’s a pale pink, the crystal of love.
I know Declan rolls his eyes and Cavin mocks, but my intuition knows best. And they’re… well, they’re men.
The kitchen is warm, and outside it's begun to rain, that soft Irish rain that's so common it's a backdrop, but it's beautiful and misty, and I love it. I love this place.
“Declan did?”
“Aye. We don’t quite know the intricacies or what it cost him, but Cavin says Declan had a private talk with Seamus, and that’s when Seamus changed his mind.”
I have a feeling he put something on the line to do it, but I don't know what. Because of course he would. That's what Declan does. He protects what's his.
And I'm his.
Except I'm not, am I? Not on paper. Not in any way that counts out loud. And yet here I am, kept safe by something I can't name, in a family that isn't mine by blood or by law, and he's the reason. I don't know how I know that. I just do.
What has he done? What did it cost him? I turn it over in my mind, unsure of what to do with my questions, because even if I asked him outright, would he tell me?
Probably not.
So instead, I change the subject.
“I can't believe I'm having a baby,” I say with a laugh that's half groan, half sob.
“I know,” she says, “but it's not exactly a disaster.”
“It's a total disaster, Erin.”
Then we're both laughing and both crying.
“Cavin will say something insufferable,” Erin says with an eye roll.
“Of course he will. I just hope he doesn’t kill Declan.”
Erin winces. “Right.”
“Well, that doesn’t make me feel any better, Erin.”
“Only telling you the truth.” She’s grimacing. “Have you ever seen the two of them fight? It’s not pretty.”
“Declan says Cavin can kick his arse.”
“Well,” she says, her brows raised. “Declan puts up a damn good fight.” Leaning closer, she nods. “But don’t worry.” She winks at me. “I'll deal with him. I’m the best one for the job.”
I can't help but laugh. It feels nice.
“We'll figure this out, sis,” she says. “We always do.”
Outside, the rain is still coming down, but I believe, just for a moment, that she's right. We will figure this out. I just don't know how.
How's he doing?
Declan
Better. Got him breathing well again, won't even need to spend the night. Doc sent him home with an updated prescription according to Cav
Speaking of Cav…
Declan
***
Please don't lose your head
Declan
Have I ever?
Well, no, never, unless we’re counting the times he’s gotten stern and I’ve landed belly down over his lap. But Declan doesn’t get angry with me. It’s one of the reasons I trust him.
No…
Declan
What is it, love? You can tell me. I promise whatever it is I won't even spank you.
I told Erin. Erin knows
There's a pause before he replies. I bite my lip and hold my breath, wishing he were here and that we didn't have to rely on these stupid texts.
Declan
It's alright, love. I was going to tell Cavin but literally the second before I did, he got the call about his Da and I haven't seen him since. I told you it's going to work out. Believe me, it will. She’s your sister. Of course you had to tell her.
Even though we have a birthday party to go to and Valentina will be there?
Declan
Even then. I'm sorry it's this way for now. Stay strong, Bridget. I love you.
I pause and take a moment to regroup.
I love you, too
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