Page 5 of A Second Chance Summer in Dublin

‘You had the two jobs, so what was his contribution?’

My eyes dip for a second and I shake my head. ‘I gave him all my savings. I’d been saving for years for a deposit on a bridal-wear premises, but I gave every penny to him to pay for theatre hire, costumes, actors’ fees, crew fees, props, set, per diem .?.?.’ I taper off.

‘He paid it all back, right?’ Donal asks but there is a definite knowing in his question.

I just shake my head again, from side to side. ‘I also designed all the costumes – and they were great if I say so myself – but it cost me my internship atFerguson Brophy Bridal Designsbecause I was overworked and exhausted, and eventually I messed up and they fired me. That’s when Emma Stark was right there to step into my shoes. The play opened the doors for Logan, though, and the more successful he got, the more I thought I was losing him and the more I pushed for us to get married. Pathetically, I hung onto him for dear life but I love .?.?. loved him so much.’ I catch myself, but not quickly enough.

I see his eyes dart, he’s watching me closely, and they narrow to near-closed. ‘You’re still in love with him?’

I deflect. ‘It was a lightning-bolt of instant attraction. An arrow to the heart.’ I clutch my chest, hang my tongue out one side of my mouth, making light of it. I pick up my coffee cup, it’s empty but still I pretend to sip. ‘Anyway, then followed five years of constant drama, cynical attitudes, suspense, jealousy and often tears – mine, not his.’

It feels good to admit my pathetic-ness to this strange man.

He nods so slowly and so intently, it’s like I can see he fully understands.

I give him a half-smile. ‘You look like a man who can relate to my ranting?’

A customer steps in between us to borrow our milk jug.

‘I’ve had heartbreak.’ His long fingers dance across his heart; again, the claw is made and the hair is swept back off his face.

I pause, give him the opportunity to rant, but he doesn’t take it.

Instead, ‘Go on,’ is what he whispers, kindly.

‘Well I dunno. Like I said, I loved him so much I pushed for the ring. I pushed him to set a wedding date. I shouldn’t have. His proposal had been nothing more than trying to keep me happy. Deep down I knew he didn’t want to get married. I reallyonly had myself to blame. That was the hardest part.’ My flip-flop slips off the low bar of the stool and I jerk. Donal is quick with his hand to steady me. It’s an unusual feeling, his touch. It’s been a while since I’ve been this close to a man.

‘I disagree.’ He leans forward on his stool, his words a soft whisper. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’ He leaves a beat. ‘And now?’

I don’t move my position. ‘Who knows?’ I raise an eyebrow.

He raises one, too. ‘So now he’s coming back. Have you plans to meet up before Mia’s party?’

I love how he listens so intently that he remembers Mia’s name. But before I can answer him, the waitress steps in, stacks our empty coffee cups onto a heavily laden brown tray. ‘I’m sorry but we’re closing,’ she says and I gasp, looking down at the time on my phone on the counter.

‘Oh my God! I’ve been bending your ear for over an hour!’ I slap my hand over my mouth, standing up swiftly, appalled at myself. He’s the loveliest man but I’ve taken up far too much of his time. Never in my life have I done this sort of impromptu thing but I feel a huge sense of relief and I’m not entirely sure why.

‘Don’t worry. Hope it helped. But, yeah, I better get the bike and head home. I need to drop this suit off and grab a shower before my date tonight.’ He uncrosses his legs and stands up tall, reaches down to check the tissue still wrapped on his shin. His vibe is so chill as he hums along to ‘Boys of Summer’, his head nodding and his shoulders shaking to the beat.

‘Of course. Thank you, I don’t know what to say, I’m .?.?. well, it’s kinda out of character for me to just ask a stranger to have coffee. Just one of those days. But honestly, I feel like I’ve taken a load off by talking to you. I feel lighter!’ I hand him his suit bag and gather up my belongings, still in shock at the length of time we’ve been talking for, because it felt like minutes.

He performs a mock bow. ‘Glad to be of service.’

‘How’s your shin?’ I look down at the tissue paper now unravelling over his sock.

‘I’ll live.’ He laughs and those green eyes shimmer in the glare of the sun seeping through the window.

‘Put a drop of Dettol into some warm water and bathe it,’ I suggest as he bends and fixes the tissue.

‘Yes, nurse.’ He looks up at me now, fixes his eyes on me, then straightens up tall; stuffing one hand in his jeans pocket, he pulls out a tiny key.

‘Well, nice to meet you, Grace.’ He extends his large hand and I take it.

‘And you, Donal.’ My own hand is completely lost in his.

Although he definitely isn’t my usual type, there is something about him and I tighten my grip. He tightens his. We shake for longer than is normal or necessary. Finally, he takes his hand away and I curl my fingers into my palm.

We make our way back out onto Exchequer Street. The air is humid, the heat stifling, and seagulls squawk, circling above our heads. The outdoor-seating areas are jam-packed. Window ledges used as makeshift tables to rest drinks on. The rattle of ice cubes. People saunter past, scantily clad and sipping iced drinks, the smell of sun cream permeating the air. I wait as Donal unlocks his bike, placing one hand on the seat for balance, his fingers wrapping around the lock as he inserts the tiny key and turns it. The click of the mechanism echoes softly.