Page 21 of Promise Me This

The fine lines surrounding Padraig’s mouth deepen as he offers a grim smile. “All right, since you’re so good at keeping a lid on things, you can pretend I didn’t tell you what I’m about to. ’Cause he’s my friend and I shouldn’t be ratting him out, but you both seem to need a little nudging along.”

He navigates the car into the lot in silence before he parks and shifts in his seat to face me. “You can’t be blaming yourself for the way Cal is acting. He holds on to a lot of anger, and it comes from a plethora of sources. He doesn’t seem keen to let go of any of them, least of all you.”

My eyebrows furrow. “What else could he possibly be upset over?” Callum has the perfect family, a child and a partner somewhere and his mother nearby. I know he used to have a lot of hurt over his father leaving them to go off gallivanting in the UK somewhere, but other than that he has a pretty full life.

One I’m hell-bent on ruining, it seems.

Padraig shakes his head with a sardonic snort. “Oh, Leona, how little you know.”

“Enlighten me then,” I say, drawing my feet up onto the seat and hugging my knees closely to my chest. It makes me feel secure, like whatever blow is coming won’t find a place to land and will thus be forced to pass me by.

A heavy sigh escapes his barely parted lips. He runs his fingers through his hair, the silver strands glinting in the light of the setting sun. “Niamh’s mother, Catherine, left them when she was just after turning two years old. She resented having the baby, being tied down. She had an affair, and then she ran off with the lad to Barcelona when Callum caught wind.

“He begged her to reconsider, told her how Niamh needed her mam, but there was no changing her mind. She signed over her rights and never looked back.”

I sit dumbfounded in a puddle of my own shame, feeling ridiculous for assuming everything was perfect. Don’t I hate it when people make assumptions about my life? They’d take one look at Nick and me and then scan the floor for toddlers, always following up with a nonchalant, “When will you two be having children?” as if there was never any other possibility than things going perfectly. Get married, buy a house, have babies, live happily ever after. In that order.

I did to Callum what they always did to me, only I assumed he was already at the finish line.

Grief for him comes in waves, a tide tugging at the sand around my heart. First his father, then me, then Niamh’s mother. Callum’s been abandoned by nearly everyone he’s ever loved. How can I blame him for not wanting me here? How can I blame him for trying to protect Niamh from the same fate?

When I think of all he’s been through, all Niamh’s been through, there’s rage, too, sparking in my veins. “My God, how could someone leave their daughter like that?” You get the most beautiful gift in the world, a stunning, living child, and you walk away like she’s nothing?

Tears are threatening to fill my eyes, and I force myself to draw in a big enough breath to contain the ocean of pain inside me. Or at least to try.

Padraig is shaking his head again, now staring out the window as a smattering of rain begins to make music on the windshield. “Hell if I know. But it tore Callum apart. Now he practically kills himself trying to be enough for Niamh, trying to bear all that pain himself, so she never has to feel it.”

As heartbreaking as it is, the words thaw my heart ever so slightly. Because that’s the Callum I remember. The one who would walk through fire to bring help to someone in need. The man who would do anything for anyone if it meant sparing them pain.

The memory of him standing in the airport terminal in Dublin fills my mind. I can still see him, stone-faced as could be, trying to remain strong so I’d be able to walk away. He knew if he showed any chinks in his armor, I’d never let him go. I’d miss my flight, abandon my degree and the dreams it would help me achieve, all to remain with him.

When we parted, it was with a tendril of a promise dangling between us, holding us together even across an ocean. One that I, and so many before and after me, have broken when it comes to Callum.

I press my lips firmly together, holding back a sob that threatens to break loose. After a long, pregnant pause has passed us by, I finally find the ability to form words again.

“I’m going to run inside. No need to wait for me. I didn’t realize how close it is, and I can easily walk home. I only need a few things.”

“Are you sure?” Padraig asks, gaze scanning the weeping sky through the window. “You’ll be walking in the rain. Again."

"I don’t mind,” I whisper. Before he can respond, I exit the vehicle and close the door. I trudge forward, through the biting cold, willing the rain to wash my spirit clean.

Chapter Ten

Callum

Did he have to put his fucking hand on her back?

The sight has left me with red-tinged tunnel vision. All I can see is my friend’s hand settling into the curve at the base of Leo’s spine, guiding her the way I used to. I can practically feel the heat of her body beneath my fingertips, or perhaps it’s just my rage setting me alight. I try every method Granda taught me to relax. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Count backward from one hundred. Imagine each of my appendages filling with warm, golden light that spreads through my body until I’m filled to the brim.

Okay, that last one was for falling asleep, but it does the trick anyway.

It’s just Podge, I remind myself. He’s not trying to fuck your ex-girlfriend.

Oh God, is that how I’m thinking of her now? Like a tree I’ve pissed on to mark my territory. It’s been twelve years, for Christ’s sake. I’ve got to get a grip.

I drop a handful of euros on the table and stand, leaving behind a lot of wasted beer and along with it, I’m hoping, this bout of insanity that’s overtaken me. Dermot studies me with a hint of suspicion folded into the million wrinkles between his eyebrows. Frazzled and utterly spent, I nod in his direction and take my leave.

The steady static of voices that fills the bar falls away when I step out onto the sidewalk, leaving me feeling like I’ve stuffed my ears with cotton. The world is at once muffled and incredibly clear, and it takes a moment for me to find an equilibrium. There’s a tension headache building in my temples, and I cup my jaw, tugging it left and right like I’ve just been punched, attempting to relieve the pain.

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