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But Eoghan… I knew he had terrible nightmares. I’d heard them myself. I’d also eavesdropped on Inessa telling Camille about them, and how she was worried when he froze up in the night and went to work it out in the gym for hours on end.
Star had been perennially alone for decades.
It felt important that I prove to her that she wasn’t anymore.
That, in the depths of the night, if her memories came back to haunt her, I was here.
It was dumb, but it was an urge I couldn’t fight.
So, I stopped trying.
Switching off the lights in the living room, I pulled out my cell phone to guide my path to the couch, then I unfastened my belt buckle, dropped my jeans to the ground, yanked my tee overhead, and, in my boxer briefs, flopped onto the cushions.
There was a throw over the back of the couch, so I covered myself with it then sighed at finally being able to lie flat after such a long time awake.
Having shoved my exhaustion aside for hours by this point, it was no wonder that it was starting to rear its ugly head again and with a vengeance.
The screen of my cell popped on though, illuminating the darkness in a way that made my eyes ache.
With a huff, I reached for it and saw I had about three million texts from my brothers.
Feeling bad about not texting sooner, I shot off a simple message:
Me: Alive, well, on the ground.
I hit send before I thought about what to tell them re Star.
Deciding that the truth was easier to maintain than a lie when things were about to get complicated, I continued:
Me: I’ve got her. But we have some work to finish off together here in Croatia. (Don’t fucking ask.) I’m gonna crash. Been on the move since I set off for JFK. I’ll speak to you in the morning, deartháirs.
‘Deartháir,’whether we admitted it out loud or not, was our code word.
We rarely shared that we loved one another, but Gaelic was our poison of choice whenever we did the deed.
Not wanting to see their replies because I’d have to answer them, I flipped my phone screen side up after I’d set it on silent, then I closed my eyes.
I had no idea how long I slept for. My eyelashes felt like they were rimmed with salt and my eyes were dry and crusty, but something had made me stir.
That was when I felt it.
Felther.
For a moment, I just thought I was dreaming.
Star couldn’t be here. Not on the couch.
With me.
But she was.
Her face was nuzzled into my armpit of all places which totally made me freak out about whether I’d used enough deodorant after my shower last night, and her hand was on my chest.
What the hell was she doing on the couch with me?
And had I dragged the roll-on twice over each armpit like I usually did or was I too tired and only did it the once?
My eyes drifted down before I had answers to those questions. My head tilted to the side and my lips gently brushed the crown of her still-damp hair.
