Page 57 of Lucky Strike

“Yeah!” he yells, grabbing my phone. They talk for a couple of minutes, Liam breathlessly recounting every detail of the day. “Okay. Okay, Dad. I love you! Bria! He has to talk to you!”

Leaving him with a stack of brand-new bedtime books, I take the phone to my room’s balcony. The sun set just moments ago, leaving the ocean’s surface a shimmery peach.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Conlan’s smooth, low voice sends an unexpected ripple of warmth through my belly. “How’s it going?”

“Great. We had a really fun day.”

“Sounds like it.” He chuckles. “Liam loves the beach.”

“I can see that.” I smile, recalling the way Liam splashed and played in the waves, his giddy laughter carrying over the wind. "It does feel good to get away."

“I try to take him as much as I can during the summer, butsometimes I get busy,” he says. “My parents’ place is down in Nantucket—that’s where they always take him.”

“Oh, I know. He told me all about it.” I laugh a little, too. “Apparently his room there is better, but he likes the pool here.” Sinking into the rocking chair on the balcony, I trace my finger along the pattern etched into the wood. “Do you think you’ll be able to come see him?”

“Depends. I’ll do my best.”

“He’d love to see you.” I try to keep my voice light. “He talks about you all the time.”

“I know.” There’s a muted bang in the background, like a car door closing. “I think about him all the time, too.”

15.Lucky

5 years ago

Rachel’s delicate shoulders curved in as she covered her face and cried, her sobs echoing across my near-empty flat. Most of my stuff was gone, given away or sent back to Boston, so we were sitting on the carpet. I’d never felt so fucking helpless in my entire life.

We’d been dating for a little less than a year, having met through mutual friends at a pub near campus one night. I liked her ballsy personality and easy laugh, her sparkling blue eyes. Our chemistry was undeniable. What should’ve been a one-night stand turned into a casual relationship that slowly became exclusive. There were few girls I’d liked as much as I liked Rachel Sullivan, and maybe one day I could have loved her, but I think we both knew it wasn’t in the cards. Our trajectories were too divergent, and we’d been honest about that from the start.

Rachel had big plans. After graduating, she was touring Europe with her band, an indie-pop rock group who’d taken the local scene by storm. It was everything she’d ever wanted, and she’d worked her ass off to get there. She was a force to be reckoned with, and I knew she was going to be great.

I’d crammed four years of classes into three so I could graduate early. I was due back in the States at the end of the month, and I couldn’t waitto go. I loved Belfast, but ImissedBoston with an ache that told me no other city could ever be home. I wanted to be near my family, near my father. He’d just gone through a worrying episode with his heart, and despite frequent visits home, I hated being so far away all the time. I felt disconnected from my family, useless. I needed to be there for him and Mom. For Maeve and Tristan.

Rachel and I’d never actually talked about breaking up, but it was inevitable. It was kind of sad, I guess, and I’d miss her, but it felt right. We were both doing what we truly wanted to do.

And then, one morning, she stopped by as I was boxing up the very last of my belongings to be mailed home. Within seconds of letting her in the door, she said words that knocked the breath from me.

“I’m pregnant.”

“What d’you want to do?” I asked once she’d calmed down. “You know I’ll support you, no matter what.” And I would, too, even though the thought of being connected to someone in that way, someone I hadn’t chosen a future with, put a stone in my stomach. This was shit for the both of us—Rachel didn’t want to be a parent any more than I did. Not right now, anyway.

“Of course, you will,” she said, sniffling. Her pretty, pale face was all splotchy now, her nose swollen and red. “But I’m still the one who has to make this fucking horrible decision, Con. I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”

By the time I went back to Boston, she, in typical Rachel fashion, had saidfuck itand went on tour anyway. And eventually, her inability to decide made the decision for her. She and her brother had been raised by a single father that neither of them was close to, and she didn’t want to repeat her parents’ mistakes. But she was also Catholic, and while she supported other women’s right to choose, she said it felt “murky” to her. She both wanted to have an abortion and couldn’t fathom having one.

I’d been raised with similar beliefs so I understood that, but I thought she should end it. It was different for me, though—I wasn’t the one growing a baby. So, I kept my opinions to myself and tried to be supportive when she called a month later to tell me was keeping it. We agreed to share custody. I would take the kid for summers once he got a little older, and Rachel would come to Boston every Christmas so wecould both be with him. It wasn’t perfect, and maybe the arrangement would evolve over time, but it was a start.

“Is there anything else we need?”Mom asked, bustling nervously around the baby’s room. She checked the diaper stash at least six times before glancing at her phone. “Ugh, I really hope the weather clears up over there. They’re havinganotherstorm.”

Amused, I folded my arms as I leaned in the doorway. “Stop checking the weather app.”

She marched over to me, pointing at her phone. “If your flight gets delayed because?—"

“Mom.” I groaned good-naturedly, squeezing her arm. “Never thought I’d see the day whereyouof all people was fussing.”

“Hey, I miss my grandchild,” she said, her eyes growing suspiciously shiny. “Can you blame me?”

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