Page 138 of Trying Sophie

She leaned forward, her hands fisted on the table between us. “Well then, tell me exactly what you saw.”

I dropped my head back against the leather booth and inhaled. On a long exhale, I opened my eyes and met Aoife’s calculating glare. “Maggie was sitting on Declan’s lap. They were at a pub, surrounded by people. Aidan, Liam, and some other guys were there too.”

“Was Eoin there?” she shot out.

I scrunched up my face and tried to remember what I’d seen. It’d all happened so fast. “I don’t know. I don’t remember seeing him. I didn’t look too long.”

“I bet he was,” she muttered, pulling out her phone and typing into her screen. Shoving it back in her jacket pocket, she said, “If he was, he’ll tell me what’s going on. I’m sure there’s been a mistake.”

“Maybe,” I said on a shrug. “But he didn’t deny it, Aoife.”

“What did he say when you asked?”

“Uh,” I replied, not wanting to admit I hadn’t actually spoken to him. “I asked if he slept with Maggie and he said yes.”

“He has,” she answered quickly. “About seven months ago, I think.”

Seven months. He’d said it’d been a long time ago, while Maggie had told me it’d only been a month. The question was, who was telling the truth?

Maggie had no reason to lie to me, while Declan did. Because that’s what men did, right? They lied, cheated, and stole a little piece of you with every passing moment.

But Declan was different. That’s why I’d fallen in love with him. Because I’d known in my heart he wasn’t going to turn out like Stephen or my dad. I’d decided I could trust him … and then I hadn’t. Worse, I’d told him he could trust me. I’d failed us both.

“Shit,” I said, my heart sputtering. “He didn’t do it. He didn’t do it and I ruined everything.”

“It’s okay,” she rushed to assure me. “You need to talk to him.”

“I can’t,” I whimpered, pulling out my phone and sorting through my messages until I found our last exchange. Shoving my phone her way, I said, “He hates me.”

Her eyes drifted over the screen. When she finished reading, she raised them and stared at me for a beat. “He doesn’t hate you, Sophie.

She passed the phone back to me.

“He does,” I argued, waving the device around. “He never wants to see me again.”

She tilted her head and her eyes narrowed. “Maybe.” She shrugged. “But maybe not.”

I dropped my head forward. “We’re done,” I whispered.

“You can fix this Sophie. You have to fix it. He’s a mess. He’s going to lose everything. You have to at least try,” she implored. “I’ll help you.”

“It’s too late.”

“It’s not!” she exclaimed.

“It is,” I said gently. “I’m leaving soon, Aoife.”

“Wait, what? You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” I squared my shoulders. “January 6.”

If looks could kill, I would have been struck dead. “You bitch,” she accused on an angry whisper. “You come here and get his hopes up, make him … make him. You led him on.”

“No, Aoife, I didn’t,” I reacted calmly. “Declan’s always known I was leaving in January.”

When I heard the words aloud I realized how futile it all sounded. Had we ever really stood a chance?

“But that’s ridiculous,” she shot back. “Your life’s here now.”

Aoife was young, and from all Declan had said, somewhat sheltered by their mother so I gave her some leeway. Of course she’d see it that way. As far as she was concerned, my family was here—and lord knew they didn’t want me to leave—as was my boyfriend. Why I would want to go anywhere else made no sense to her.

Suddenly it didn’t make much sense to me either.

Thankfully I was saved from having to say anything more when Siobhan appeared at our table, the pub’s cordless phone trilling in her hand. “It’s been ringing off the hook for the last ten minutes,” she told me, passing it my way.

“This might be important,” I told Aoife as I took hold of it.

Declan’s sister flung her body out of the booth. “Fine, take your call. But this isn’t over Sophie. Not by a long shot.”

It was. She just hadn’t had enough time to accept it.

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