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Chapter3
Ember
Sullivan and I step outside onto the brightly lit street; while he appears calm, wearing a smile stretched across his handsome face, my brain is going over the ticking time bomb that is my disease. It’s a constant distraction, a consistent pull back into reality.
“Dinner was lovely,” I say. “Thank you.”
I’d tried to get away with just a bit of bread—I really did. But Sullivan had insisted I eat more, not letting up, and I hadn’t had the heart to tell him why I couldn’t shove my face full of delicious beer and stew.
For purely selfish reasons, of course. I could have been honest, but where would that lead? Sullivan would just be added to the long list of people who pity me, and I really, really don’t have any inclination of adding to it.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you tried the stew. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I agree. The flavor had been fantastic. Almost worth the pain it will likely bring me.
“Shall we venture to Dublin City Centre?” he asks, curiously.
I shake my head and force a yawn. “Honestly, I’m exhausted. Jetlag and all. Think we can get a rain check for that?”
Arching his eyebrow, he studies me. “Are you okay? You’re looking a bit pale.” Reaching forward, he brushes a strand of my red hair out of my face.
Perfect. Ember, you idiot.“I’m fine. Just exhausted.”
“Totally understandable. I’ll walk you back to your hotel. We can always venture there tomorrow. That’s if you’re not just trying to get away from me because I was awful company.” He winks at me and I smile, this one not forced, despite the gurgling in my stomach.
“Not horrible, at all. I really enjoyed myself.” Sweat beads on my forehead, but I don’t shed my light wrap because I don’t want him to notice that I’m burning up. Just ahead, the hotel looms, and hope blossoms in my chest that we just might make it before I completely fall apart.
Though, if the heat keeps smothering me, I might just pass out before we reach the front door. “Do you have any siblings?” I ask, forcing my attention away from the fullness building in my stomach.
“I do. A brother. He’s aGarda Síochána.”
“Garda?”
“I believe they’re called police officers in the States.”
“Oh, okay. That’s neat.”
“It is. He hoped I would follow him, but I’d really rather not.” Sullivan chuckles. “He lives a serious life, and I prefer to live my life one day at a time. You never know when a day will be your last.”
If only you knew.“I think that’s a great outlook.”
“Yeah?”
“Why are you so surprised?”
“You seem like the planning type to me. Calendars, notebooks, and all that.”
I smile as the first of many waves of nausea wash over me. Years of ‘fake it till you make it’ have conditioned me to hide it while I can, though. Won’t be long before I’m unable to. “I used to be.”
“What changed?”
“Let’s just say I got a lesson in just how short life can be.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Lose a loved one?”
We reach the front door of the hotel, and I turn to him. “No, just a close call. Thank you so much for dinner.”
“You’re welcome, Ember Hall.” Leaning forward, he presses a light kiss to my sweaty cheek, though he doesn’t draw back and note it. “I’ll come fetch you tomorrow evening, then?”
