Page 36 of Sparks Still Fly

“What makes you think you can make any choices for me? Or that I would have sat around waiting for you?” She pauses, still not looking at me. I can’t tell if she’s asking me the questions, or if she’s just asking the trees, not really expecting an answer.

“I don’t think I can make any of those choices for you. Not anymore. I was young and fucking dumb. And I have no idea if you would have or not, but, sunshine, I couldn’t take that chance. Do you understand that? I could never take that chance with you.”

She shakes her head so hard that some of the hairs fall out of her bun. Her eyes close tightly for a few seconds, and her face scrunches up as if she’s in pain. She probably is.

“But you said we were just getting it out of our systems.”

“I didn’t mean it.” I could say more. I could tell her right now that all these years later, she’s still not out of my system. That I’m not sure that’s even possible.

“So, what was it then? You were sad about your dad and just needed a fuck?” Over the anger in her words, I see a flash of regret pass across her eyes as she looks at me. Her words deliver the intended punch, though, as I feel the air rush out of my lungs.

Jesus, is that what she really thinks? I’m such a fucking asshole.

“No, Maeve. That’s not... it was never... that had nothing...” I take a deep breath, willing my next words to help me make sense of this mess. “Okay. Fuck. Yeah, I was sad and totally fucked up over my dad, but I wanted you before that.” I pause, my heart thrashing in my chest with the force of my admission. “And I wanted you after.” Her breathing is quicker now, and she’s still staring at the trees like she’s going to find the answer to all the questions undoubtedly bouncing around in her brain.

“You just left and forgot all about me.” The way her voice cracks sends a sharpened arrow straight into my heart. I know I hurt her, but seeing the hurt, hearing the pain in her voice, it all makes me feel like I’m suffocating under the weight of my regrets.

“I never, not even for one second, forgot about you, fengári mou. How could I? You were in my blood, under my skin, like you embedded yourself in my DNA. I couldn’t get rid of you or the memory of you even if I had tried.” She opens her mouth to retaliate, but I don’t let her. “I wanted you there. Always. Even when it hurt to think about you, I wanted you.”

“So why, then? Why ghost me after? I waited for you. I waited for your call. I waited for you to send news, even through Bon, but you never did.” Her face crumples, and all I want to do is wrap myself around her and take all these insecurities and questions away. “And I thought perhaps I deserved it. I told you it was just sex, after all. But your sister and your mum didn’t deserve your silence, Owen.”

“You’re right. They didn’t deserve that and neither did you. That’s exactly what I didn’t want. For you to wait. For you to hurt.” That’s apparently the wrong thing to say because she lunges at me and pushes her hands into my chest, trying to hurt me.

Good. I fucking deserve it.

“Well, I did it anyway, you arsehole. I waited because I thought I loved you! I was worried every day and every night for nearly two years, and for what? You didn’t even care enough to send a sign of life!” She keeps pushing at me, and I step back, letting her think she’s actually capable of moving me even though I have a whole foot and at least a hundred pounds on her. “Your mum eventually sent news that you were alive. We were all worried sick, Owen. You didn’t even care!”

I wish I could explain it. Tell her that because of the secrecy of the mission, no contact was allowed, so when I went missing, not even my mom knew about it. I wish I could take it all away and make sure she never went through this, that Mamá and Lainey never went through it either. Something lodges in my throat and no words come out. I can’t even look at her, even if I know I deserve to witness this. I deserve to see exactly what I did; the pain I caused.

“Why won’t you answer me? Tell me! I deserve to know!” She’s yelling now, and I hope that it actually makes her feel even a fraction of relief, to let this all out.

“It’s complicated,” I say gruffly. “A lot happened right after I deployed and... I can’t...” It’s impossible to get the words out. To relive those days and weeks, everything we lost.

“Well, fuck you, Owen! I fucking hated you for what you did to me. I hated you for the way you made that night seem meaningless, and for being the guy who left without ever looking back. I hated you. I... I hate you.” Her voice breaks on that last word, and I catch her before she hits the ground. A sob has her bending nearly in half as she collapses, followed by a wail. I never thought I’d see Maeve Howard cry, let alone like this.

The sounds of her cries makes my heart physically ache, as though someone is taking a rusty serrated knife through my chest. But her words make my stomach turn. She hates me. I thought she might, but hearing the words makes it real.

I don’t let her go as she cries, whispering I hate you into my chest. Words I deserve to hear and feel, especially given what she just confessed to.

When her breathing slows, and she pulls herself away from me, I take her face in my hands, brushing my thumbs over the tears still streaming down her cheeks.

“Maevey. I know what I said that night was so fucked up. You have to know that I didn’t mean it. You have to know how sorry I am.”

Some of the fire is back in her eyes, and I’m relieved. “You’re really good at saying sorry, do you know that?”

“Yeah, well, I have a lot to make up for. Even more now, it seems.” She shakes her head, brows furrowed in a look I can only describe as disgust. Or maybe disappointment. I take a step back from her, letting my hands fall at my sides. She hugs herself like she still needs the comfort I obviously wasn’t able to provide.

She’s trying to process, trying to understand, but there’s a huge missing piece that I haven’t given her. And if I do it now, I may just seem like I’m fishing for sympathy.

“I want to tell you, Maeve. And I will. Just not today. Not right now. Okay?” Her body stiffens at my question. She doesn’t answer.

In a swift move, she starts to walk away from me, clearly being able to see where the wooded area ends and where the paths back toward the guesthouse and main house are. Her little legs move fast, but I keep up, staying just two steps behind her. When she reaches the bottom step to the guesthouse, I call out to her.

“Please?” I implore. She turns her head, looking in my direction over her shoulder.

“What?” she asks and slowly turns to face me.

“Please give me a chance to tell you. It’s okay if you still hate me after, Maevey, but please... just give me a chance to tell you what only a handful of people know.” I’m grasping at nothing here, but I refuse to give up on her.

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