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“You what?” Fiona cried.

“I quit,” Niall said for the third time.

“Oh, Nie,” his mother said. “Was it … do you think that was necessary?”

“Yes, Mam, I do,” Niall said. “This was meant to be my chance, not some way for Deirdre to sneak back into my life. I should have guessed.”

“Fecking trollop,” Róisín muttered.

“Owen, say something,” Fiona said. His da was in the kitchen with him, peeling the pearl onions for the bourguignon. Niall glanced at him, but Owen shrugged.

“You can’t make the man do what he’s said he won’t do, Fiona.”

“But you said yourself that place was perfect.”

“Aye, but only if it suited Niall, which it doesn’t. Not anymore, at least.” Owen waved a knife in Niall’s direction. “And look at him now. He’s got credentials. He’s got experience. He can go anywhere.”

Not anywhere, Niall thought dryly. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do now. His phone pinged again and he ignored it. Deirdre had been calling and texting all day. But there was nothing she could say to change his mind.

Niall finished chopping carrots and wiped his knife clean.

“What about you, Róisín?” he asked. “You’re being suspiciously quiet.”

Róisín was sitting on his couch in her dungarees, a glass of Redbreast in one hand. “I was told very specifically by Fiona to keep my opinions to meself,” she said.

Niall frowned. “And when has that ever stopped you from sharing them anyway?”

“Don’t,” Fiona warned.

“Don’t what?” Niall asked, looking back and forth between them.

“Oh lord,” Owen muttered, and then Róisín slammed her glass down on the coffee table and stood.

“She was going to say yes, you dumb bastard!” Róisín cried. “God, it’s been eating me alive. But she only did it so he’d go to London, and Fiona, it’s not worked out in London, has it?”

“But you promised her you wouldn’t say anything,” Fiona said.

Róisín huffed. “I told you, didn’t I?”

“That’s different and you know it.”

“Can everyone slow down a minute?” Niall said. His pulse had kicked into a sprint, but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. Maybe he was misunderstanding. “What are you two on about?”

“Cordelia was going to say yes to you,” Róisín said. “The day the fecking trollop showed up at your door. Do you hear me, boyo? She was going to say yes.”

Niall blinked. He knew he understood the meaning of her words, but right now his brain could not compute. “But … she said she didn’t want me.”

Fiona’s face creased and Róisín’s nostrils flared.

“Well, that was a load of crap, now, wasn’t it,” Róisín said. “She knew you wouldn’t go if she said yes to you. She couldn’t go to London herself. Now, why on earth the two of you thought it was marriage or nothing in this day and age I’ll never know, but there it is—she was going to say yes and she only said no because she loved you so damn much.” She narrowed her eyes. “Have you been sitting here for months believing she didn’t want you? Christ, Niall, I thought you were smart!”

Niall was still too bewildered to reply. He looked to his father for help.

Owen shrugged. “I told you,” he said. “You’re not dead, either of you. There’s always hope.”

“Did you all know?” Niall asked. “Did you all know about this?”

“Just Róisín,” Fiona said quickly. “She only told us right before we came.”