Page 62 of Troubles

It’s not fair that my brother is missing all this. He wanted to be a father more than anything. It kills me knowing the last thing he did before finding out his death sentence, was create this life. He should be here. He should have his hand on his wife’s belly, feeling his boy kicking and rolling and moving. These moments should be Michael’s.

Lorna slides both hands over the top of mine, holding me in place. She talks quietly, telling me everything will be okay. Soothing me, like I’m the widow facing this alone. I cover my face with my free hand, letting the tears come.

Not the wracking sobs from right after his death, but silent sad tears mourning Michael’s loss of this gift. Tears for this child having to grow up not knowing his father and the man he was. Not truly knowing how desperately he was wanted.

The slamming of the pub door against the quiet of the room, pulls me out of my moment. I wipe my tears and take some deep breaths, pushing down the pain in my heart.

“I’m sorry. I thought I was over it, but—God, he’s really gone. And this sweet child will never know him.” I brush at the tears that continue to fall.

“I know. Believe me, I understand. I’ve done nothing but cry and ask why for months.” Lorna slides my pint across the table. I take a healthy draught and steel myself.

Of course, she has. She’s been alone through all of this. Dealing with the pain and the guilt and the loss of her husband. Knowing she’s going to have to be both mum and dad to this child.

“There is a way.” I lift my head and meet her eyes, hesitancy clouding them.

“There’s a way for what?”

“For his father to be in his life. For him to know Michael in a sense.” Lorna’s voice wavers with uncertainty.

I shake my head, not understanding what she’s trying to say.

“Come home, Aidan. Come home with me and…we’re a good team. We can do this. Together.” Her plea, the only thing sounding in the pub.

“What?” Not sure that I heard her right, I search her face, fear written all over it.

“You were close to Michael. You were there with me through everything.” She can’t mean it. “Aidan, you’re the only one who truly understands. He would want you to be a part of his son’s life. You’re so much like him it would be like his father was here. Please.”

Nonononono. “Lorna, I can’t take Michael’s place. I?—”

“Sorry. No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have asked. Shouldn’t have even implied.”

She’s a flurry of nervous hands and false laughter, not meeting my eye. “I should have gone on a beach holiday instead. This was a mistake. I’ll—I’ll just call a cab and go. I’m sorry.”

“Lorna, stop. You can’t just turn around and go. You’ve got to be exhausted.” She’s staring at her bag, sniffling quietly. “Come on. Let’s get you settled and we’ll talk in the morning, after you’ve slept.”

She nods and wipes at her cheeks.

“Where are you booked in?”

Still not meeting my eye, she replies barely audibly, “I didn’t book anything. I-I thought I could stay with you.”

I run my hand down the scruff on my jaw and nod once, pulling my phone from my pocket. I need to call Lis and let her know we have a guest tonight. Shit, I need to call my mum and let her know that Lorna’s alright. That she’s here, I’m not sure that she’s alright. Swiping at my screen I see a text from Lis.

L: At Gracyn’s. Staying here tonight.

A: Sounds good. Need to talk in the morning.

I grab Lorna’s bag and guide her out the door, feeling eyes on me the whole way. Holding the door, I catch Francie leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, the corners of his mouth turned down. I know he’s worried, but it’s Finn who makes me pause. Hands braced on the bar, his eyes are narrowed and full of disgust. And they’re aimed right at me.

He throws the towel to the bar and brushes past Francie, muttering feckin’ bastard. I’m all but certain I hear the sound of his fist hitting the wall as the door shuts behind me.

Lorna falls asleep on the short drive to my flat, exhausted, I’m sure from the travel and emotions resurfacing. Wanting to wake her gently, I smooth her blond hair back from her forehead. “Lorna, we’re here. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

I take her bag straight back to the bedroom pointing out the bathroom and kitchen on the way. With Lis spending the night at Gracyn’s, it makes sense for Lorna to have the bed. I grab a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from the dresser before turning to face her.

“I’ll take the couch. My girlfriend is spending the night at her friend’s flat, so just make yourself comfortable. I’ll, erm—I’ll let her know you’re here and we’ll all chat in the morning.”

“Girlfriend? You’re living with her? Is it—is it serious?”

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