Page 83 of Ruck Me

She shrugged her shoulder, a tiny movement that said so much. “We weren’t meant tobe.”

“Bullshit,” I cried. “You’re meant for each other.”

Tanya’s eyes turned hard. “He’s going to marry her, you know.” Breathing out a frustrated breath, she rocked back on her heels and drained half her glass. “He told me today. The paternity test came back and it’shis.”

I gripped the edge of the counter, my knuckles turning white with anger on her behalf. “I can’t believe he’s been fucking other women when I know he cares about you. Anyone can see it. Stevie Wonder could see it. Who doesthat?”

“You don’t understand, Aoife.”

I laughed bitterly. “You’re right, I don’t.”

“It’s not Aidan’s fault,” she said, her chin trembling. “He wanted to be with me but I saidno.”

“Youwhat?”

“I love him, but I can’t get past what happened. Maybe if he hadn’t been the one to find me that night, but then, we probably wouldn’t have grown as close as we have either. The truth is, he’s the one for me, but I have to let him go, let him try to build a life with someone else. Someone who can give him what I can’t.”

“That’s bullshit and you knowit.”

She shrugged. “Probably.”

I blew out a frustrated breath. “Okay, we definitely need to go to Londonnow.”

“London?” she asked.

In listening to Tanya’s horrific story, I’d almost forgotten my sad state, but seeing the shattered look on her face reminded me of my original purpose in coming over tonight. If anyone needed to get out of Dublin as much as I did, it was Tanya O’Reilly.

Still, what I was about to say didn’t come easy. I’d practiced the words in my mirror until I could say them without flinching, but now that I was about to speak them aloud, I didn’t know if I could go through withit.

You haveto.

Yeah, Idid.

Clearing my throat, I forced them out. “I’m not keepingit.”

I didn’t need to say anything more. Every girl in Ireland knew why pregnant girls went to the U.K. in droves eachyear.

Tanya’s shoulders sagged and her eyes fell shut for several long seconds. When she opened, them, they were glassy. “Oh Aoife, no. Don’t do that. You’ll regret it every day of yourlife.”

Her words—her tone—hit me hard and my head flew back as if she’d struck me. I’d expected her understanding and support; instead, I’d received censure and disappointment.

“I should go,” I said, sliding off the stool.

“Wait!” she proclaimed, rushing around the counter. “Stay, let’s talk aboutthis.”

“What’s there to talk about?” I asked, my voice leaden.

“You have options.”

I laughed mirthlessly. “No, I really don’t.”

“You could keepit.”

I shook my head emphatically. “No, I can’t.”

“Whynot?”

“I just can’t. I’m only21.”

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