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“See you around, Saoirse.” Then, with a cheeky wink, he disappears through the arrival doors.
Maybe Killybegs won’t be as bad as I thought.
* * *
Thanks to Aodhán’s directions,I find Devereux’s gym with ease, but I’m hesitant to push through the large, black glass doors because I don’t know what answers I’ll find behind them.
Who are Oliver and Fiadh Devereux, and why did my mother lead me to them?
Over the years, my mother did not mention anyone from her past. Honestly, she avoided it at all costs.
Who is her family? Where did she grow up? Did she have any friends or siblings?
For all the questions I asked, I never received a straight answer.
Stubborn to the end, my mam’s response would always be the same:Some things should stay buried.Only now, I’m left to wander this life alone, and all I have is a box full of her memories to guide me.
My chest rises as I draw in a breath. Then, after filling my lungs with false courage, I grip the handle and push the door open.
“I was wondering how long it’d take you to come in. Honestly, there was a moment there I thought you’d turn and flee.”
Startled by the unexpected greeting, my eyes flick upwards to the reception area. A girl around my age leans back in her chair with her feet kicked up on the reception desk.
Confused by her statement, I ask, “How’d you know I was out there?”
She points behind me, and I twist my head to peer over my shoulder at the wall full of windows I just walked by.Were those always there?
“They’re one-sided,” she states, validating my confusion. “I can see out, but nobody can see in.”
Dropping her feet to the floor, she pushes herself from her chair and rounds the desk. “So, are you a fighter?” Her eyes roam over me, assessing me from head to toe and back again. “No offence, but you don’t look like one.”
“No, I’m not a fighter.”
“OKAY! So, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing in an MMA gym? Is it for the eye candy? Honestly, that’s the only reason I work here. Have you seen my view?” She tosses her head to the side towards the complete wall of glass that gives you a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the gym floor full of mostly shirtless men.
I shove my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie. “As impressive as that view is, I’m looking for someone.”
“Hmm.” She plonks her arse on top of the desk as her eyes light up with interest. “Well,” she pries. “Are you going to tell me who, or are you gonna leave me in suspense? Who is he? Did he get you pregnant and run? Oh, wait, lemme guess…he cheated on you with one of the recyclables?”
Her wild and wonderful imagination humours me, and my lips tilt into a smile. “The recyclables?”
“You know, Killybegs’ very own mean girls. Everyone knows hard shiny plastic is recyclable.”
“Creative.” I smile, loving how carefree and wild this girl is. “But thankfully, I’m neither pregnant nor heartbroken.”At least, not by a man, anyway.
“Well, that’s good.” She winks. “So, who’s this man-child you’re trying to locate?”
“Oliver Devereux.”
Her eyes widen as her brows jump into her hairline.
“A guy at the bus station said he owns this place.”
“He does, but I think his wife might have something to say about his side piece rocking up to her fine establishment. Just saying.”
“Oh, no…I’m not…I’ve never…”
Her laughter cuts through my panic. “Chill! I was only joking. My dad would never step out on my mam. She’d kick his arse if he even thought about it.”
