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Giving signal to his confessed mortification was his inability to sit still as earnest eyes awaited her response. But for thecreased remorse, also hugging them close, and her innate desire to placate other people’s anxiety, she decided to lie: “It’s fine, Fionn. Swear to God.”
The words came out blasé and her shoulders turned lax, though she was sure she wasn’t believable to even those who couldn’t share her thoughts. Because it wasn’t fine. In forgetting Fionn, she hadn’t really forgiven him how she’d claimed through virtue of a seductive whisper not twenty minutes before. That lack of worth subliminally persists. It takes the sinister shape of taunting mouths no therapy could vanquish.
Áine smiled at him because it was all she could do and because she was still adamant she didn’t want to judge him for who he was but rather who he’d become, even if her gut was telling her to do exactly that.
“It’s not fine!” He near growled and shook his head as he said it, and her hands were suddenly in his before she could even consider drawing them away. They were warm and coarse, and just to feel them made her chest rise, and the idea of him leaving suddenly worse.
“I need you to know you were always too good to grant me any of your time. You were amazing,” he said. “I mean, you were seventeen, and I’d never seen anyone get a verbal leg up on you!”
Áine was still too preoccupied with his physical presence and how easily he’d grasped her hands to even care all that much for his kind words. Was this who he was now? Someone who embraced his desires. Someone who would kiss you in the moment if it felt right instead of looking for a corner to deter their want. His awkward fluster in the kitchen made her think maybe not.
“Okay, I’ll maintain my honesty,” Áine started with a forced smoothness to her tone. If he wanted her to hear his side, an offering of the same felt necessary no matter the inevitable embarrassment for both parties. “Ididn’tlike how you treatedme. I was a second-class citizen to you. You surely knew I liked you and used that to your advantage so I could be your secret confidante. And yeah, there was a time when it all felt balanced and right. My resilience managed to convince me it was fine. That I was supposed to appreciate you showing me a morsel of interest. Sad thing is, we’re not kids anymore and looking back at that situation creates sour feelings in me.”
He opened his mouth to speak.
She threw him a long-perfected glare that instantly closed it again. “You need to let me get to the third but.”
“There’s another but?”
“Yeah. A big juicy one,” she teased, eyes closed when she saidjuicy.
They laughed then, him in deep tones and her without any.
In the settle, he leaned closer, a hint of curiosity squinting his lovely eyes. “So Áine, but what?”
She matched his closeness until the room felt vacuumed. Until she felt pleasurably compressed. “So we have about an hour and thirty minutes until you’re back in your room, and we likely never see each other again.” That last part stirred an ache in her only softened by the fraction harder he squeezed her hands. “So why not make the most of it? I mean, I’m not going to be all that busy considering it’s a night shift.”
“And by making the most of it . . .” He took his hands from hers to run a finger up and down his knife. It smudged in iridescent lines. “You mean . . .”
The absence of him was noticeable, making her wonder if her hands had always been so cold and full of emptiness. She pressed them to her bare thighs to spread and preserve his touch.
“Calm down, cowboy,” she finally joked, returning to her humorous front. “What Imeanis why not enjoy ourselves? Recap the last six years of our lives . . . talk about what interestsus. Let’s squeeze that missed opportunity into the little time we do have left.”
Whatever Fionn was thinking, he didn’t let it out straight away. She hoped she hadn’t misread the entire situation as him looking for a one-night stand before heading off to his new life with a little less weight on him.
Most people wouldn’t come to this conclusion so fast, but Áine’s friend, Shelly, had this very thing happen to her. A happening easily recovered from after a vino or two, but in Shelly’s case, she was gone out of Dublin and back home to Limerick with a new baby in tow.
“Áine.”
If braver, she would have feigned not hearing him to see it come from his mouth again—her name he’d somehow made beautiful. Her name she wished was more than two syllables just to hear it stretch a second longer on his lips.
“Hmm?” she managed.
“I’d honestly love to spend the rest of my waking time on Irish soil with you. I think it might actually help balance all that was before.”
She licked her buttery lips, hoping the movement would keep her exploding delight at bay. Then from his response, she took the most interesting part to begin exactly what they had just agreed to do.
“You know, I read a book about finding balance some years ago.Fucking Virtue-Something-or-Anotherit was called. Funnily enough, for all my non-beliefs in anything spiritual or religious, which is more Kantian, I latched onto the idea of balance like it was an inspiring aphorism: ‘find balance, happiness leads.’”
Áine was aware she’d oversimplified an entire element of Greek philosophy, but theDelphic Maxims, particularly, “nothing in excess” came first, and sure that was even shorter.
Besides, she meant what she said about being happy. For what could be perceived as a depressive state to live in, and at sparse times was when the loneliness got too much, she actually was gratified by herself and the path she was on in life. Although, she often forced herself to use a tailored threshold of sorrow to reinforce this lab-grown feeling.
At least my bank account isn’t in overdraft this month, she’d think to herself. At least when I was bullied in school nobody actually hit me. At least I’ve never been raped. At least my mam didn’t die of cancer when I was just a child.
“You mean theGolden Mean principle,” Fionn said. A statement, not a question.
He had a habit of doing that; volume piquing the end of his sentences unnecessarily.
