Page 43 of Promise Me This

“Me and your lady, lad!” He guffaws, and I have to pull away from the phone so that the sound doesn’t burst my eardrum. “That’s funny. Lady lad. You’re a lady lad for getting mad. Hey, that rhymed!”

I shift the car into gear and start driving, not waiting for him to confirm the obvious. My heart takes up residence in my throat. I wouldn’t be able to speak even if he stopped babbling long enough to give me the chance.

This may be the only chance I have to tell her how I feel. To find out if there’s a chance in hell to bridge this gap between who we used to be and who we are now. It could already be too late, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to try.

In between his ramblings and laughter, I hear a familiar voice call to him.

“Who are you talking to?” Leo says, sounding far away at first and then suddenly closer when the phone shuffles and she groans, “Oh, God.”

The call disconnects, and I press my foot down a little harder on the gas.

Leo’s always been a playful drunk. When I walk into the pub to find her foxtrotting across the floor with Dermot, I’m relieved that this part of her has remained unchanged.

I’ve never seen the old man move so fast. The song—a traditional tune with an up-tempo—comes to an end just as he dips her as far as his hunched spine will allow.

She comes up grinning, breathless. Until she sees me.

Even though she schools her face into something resembling impassivity, her eyes betray her. They’re a violent storm, but not the type to run away from. The kind I want to chase.

How I ever convinced myself I wanted nothing more than answers from her is beyond me.

“I’m here to take you home,” I say, ignoring Padraig’s raised eyebrows and shit-eating grin. He’s sitting on a barstool watching us like a cutthroat tennis match that he’s got front seats for.

She grits her teeth, staring me down intently. “I’m sober enough. I can walk home.”

I study her for a moment, realizing she’s telling the truth, and suddenly amusement sparks deep in my throat. It’s foreign and glorious against the emptiness my shame left behind. I have to cough to cover up the smile my facial muscles desperately want to form.

“So why didn’t you?”

She blanches. “What?”

I don’t know why I do it, as precarious a position as we’re in, but I take a step closer. “You knew I was coming. You could’ve left immediately. But you didn’t; why is that?”

Her mouth opens and then closes again. She realizes her hand has been shown. I still feel guilty enough about what I’ve done not to bask in the victory.

“Let’s get him home”—I jab my thumb in Padraig’s direction, where he’s gradually slumping farther by the second—“and then you and I need to talk.”

She grabs her small brown purse from underneath Padraig’s head, the closest thing he could find to a pillow, resulting in a resounding thump of his skull against the hardwood. She looks sorry before she wipes the emotion off her face. “No thank you,” she says, shoving past me to head for the door. “I don’t think we have anything left to say to one another.”

I’m momentarily stunned by the electricity of her touch, even something so minor as a brush of her shoulder. By the time I start to speak, she’s already halfway to the exit. I jog to catch up with her and grab her elbow loosely to hold her in place.

“Leona—”

She stops dead in her tracks and stares down at the place where our bodies connect. It’s unreadable and cold, two things I’ve never known her to be.

I drop my arm to my side.

“I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean a word of it.” I let the words hang in the air between us. I wonder if it’s just wishful thinking that warms the atmosphere a few degrees over the next couple heartbeats. “Just get in the car please. I need to talk to you.”

She studies me, taking my measure. Deciding if I’m worth her time. I stand up straighter under her scrutiny, hoping to be found forgivable whether I deserve it or not.

Her gentle nod unravels me. It takes everything in me to lock my knees and keep standing.

Quickly, before she can change her mind, I gather my friend and usher the two of them out the door to my waiting car.

We ride in silence for longer than I’ve ever been quiet around Leo, the only sound to break it up being the muffled snores coming from Padraig in the back seat. When we’re finally to his apartment—a studio on the second floor of a jewelry store a few streets from the river—I turn to look at him over my shoulder and then glance at Leo.

“I can’t believe you went drinking with Podge, and he’s the one who came out of it unconscious.”

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