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“Liam,” he says my name, and then I hear a woman’s voice in the background. Is everything ok? My brother responds to her, and once again, I am shocked by the nature of their intimacy. Yes, my flower. Be a good girl and go get the bath water ready. I have to pull the phone away from my ear. I felt like I was watching a soft porno. “Now, Liam, what is up?”
“Cillian, Aisling is in trouble. Some guy named Jozef Wojick has her and says he will take care of her. I am worried. She was trying to tell me something about her boss being dangerous. What the fuck is going on?”
“I don’t know, but I will find out. Hold on.” Once again, I hear something muffled before he comes back on the line and says he will put his best P.I. on it and get back to me. With no other choice but to wait at this point, I grab myself a coke and sit at the counter.
“I see you finally decided to show your face.” Great. That’s what I needed was my dad to come home right now.
“I told you I was going to stay here for the last night.” Not that he cares.
“I know what you have been up to,” he says, pulling a Guinness from the refrigerator. I forgot tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day. He never works the day before because he works the day of. Business is always great on the day of the parade, especially since the bakery is right on the path of the parade.
“What’s that?” I am not trying to play dumb, but with my father, I have learned to let him tell me what he knows.
“That girl is sweet and deserves a husband. Not a fly by the seat of her pants dalliance.” What he is saying is true, but it hurts more than he will ever know that he thinks more of someone else’s child than me.
“So what, am I not good enough for her? Is that what you are telling me?”
“I don’t know. Are you willing to give up everything for her?” he doesn’t wait for my answer, but I don’t need him to. The answer is yes. I am willing to give up everything for her. Now, I just need to do it.
Chapter Fourteen
Orla
I have always enjoyed the St. Patrick's Day Parade ever since I was a little girl. I used to spend the night with my grandparents and stay up all night baking cookies to pass out at the parade and decorating the stuff we would take. My parents never participated. To them, it was a waste of time, and they never really fully embraced our heritage. I have always loved this day, but now, here I am in my grandmother's kitchen, trying not to cry into my morning tea and full Irish breakfast my grandmother made.
In the middle of the night, when I woke up, enclosed in Liam’s arms, I have never felt safer and at home. I found myself looking up at him, watching him sleep, and listening to his heartbeat. I was picturing waking up like this for the rest of my life, some nights our baby in between us. I allowed myself to drift into this dream until it hit me that he was going to be on a plane the next day, going far away from me and the night we shared. The ‘I love you’ we shared made my heartbeat like a concerto, low and melodious. My entire body lit up when he said it to me, giving it to me first, admitting his feelings, while I gave him a part of me I saved for someone worthy. In that moment, I knew it was him, and to be honest, I don’t regret it. But it hurts.
“How long are you going to sit there staring into your plate, my sweet girl? Or are you going to tell me about it?” A tear falls from my eye as I look up at her concerned face. “Oh my darling, please talk to me.” My eyes drop back down in shame, sure she is going to be disappointed in me; I deserve it.
“I love him,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “He told me he loved me first, and I believe him, but it changes nothing.” It changed nothing.
“How do you know it changed nothing? Did you stay around to see?”
“I… I mean no, but… wait, you know what happened?” She smiles at me and shakes her head.
“My sweet girl, one only has to look at you and see the proof. Have you looked in the mirror?” She chuckles and drinks her tea. Not sure what she is saying, I get up and look in the bathroom mirror, and then I see it. I am covered in red marks, all over my neck and chest. My cheeks heat up, thinking about the night and how wonderful it was. His words come back to me; more than once, he told me he was going to breed me. Even now, I find my hands touching my stomach, thinking about the life we could have made last night. “Are you going to call him?”
