Page 138 of On The Rocks

I’d lost that privilege, though. I hadn’t taken care of my wife, and although it was done inadvertently, I’d also disrespected her along the way.

Maybe I should’ve done her a favor and walked away. Perhaps I should’ve let her meet a nice, safe guy who’d give her a nice, secure life. A man without my baggage and hangups. A dude whose past didn’t keep rearing its ugly head and make her feel like shit.

Except, I couldn’t.

Maeve had come into my life because she was mine. Da knew it, and although I didn’t agree with his methods, I could only feel grateful he’d brought her to me. He’d done the impossible, and now I had to do the same and keep her by my side.

But what could I do to show her I knew her? That I’d taken notice and seen her beauty within?

What was it about Maeve that made her stand out from the crowd?

What was it that made her tick?

What did she love?

What touched her soul?

An idea suddenly began to form in my head, and for the first time in days, a true, genuine smile spread slowly across my face.

There was more to getting my wife back than grand gestures—I knew that. Maeve would respond, but only to a certain point. If I wanted a second chance, I’d have to put the work in and show her real change.

Still, I was up for the challenge. I loved my wife; she’d shone her light on me and saved my soul. There was no way I’d let her go without a damned good fight.

CHAPTER 28

MAEVE

CHRISTMAS DAY

The holidays, for me, had never been happy, at least not since my parents died. Orla always had a Christmas Eve party at their mansion and a big, ostentatious dinner the next day, but it always felt forced, like I had to smile, laugh, and play along with Orla and the girls just because it was Christmas.

Still, it wasn’t real, and I never fit. The holidays never made my adoptive mother or my stepsisters extend any kindness toward me. So, I’d grit my teeth and just endeavor to get through the day as best I could without strangling somebody.

This year was different. I was surrounded by family.

The second my eyes flew open, I pushed back the comforter, leaped out of Callum O’Shea’s childhood queen-sized bed in his mother’s house, and slipped my robe on over my warm Christmas jammies, which were covered in tiny little cute candy canes, no less.

After using the bathroom and brushing my teeth, I padded downstairs, following the light already shining from the kitchen.

It was just past six in the morning, and there was only one person who lived in Maureen’s house who’d be up so early—and that was Maureen herself.

Knowing my mother-in-law and going by the wonderful smells filling the house, she already had a huge Irish Christmas dinner prepared and breakfast ready to go.

We’d been fasting for a few days, as was tradition, plus it had suited me because I didn’t want to eat anyway. My appetite had taken a nosedive, along with my general ability to function like a normal human being.

Most of my time since I’d had the big argument with Callum had been spent working and getting more beer and cider ready for the Christmas rush at the bar. Keeping busy had been good for me, but working alone had given me a lot of time to retreat inside my own head, too.

Tristan, however, had been a sweetheart, along with all the girls and, of course, Maureen and Aislynn, and had stopped me from wallowing in a pool of tears and self-pity. However, at night, when I crawled into Callum’s big bed at the apartment and breathed him in, nobody could stop the emptiness in my chest from bursting free, and I always ended up crying myself to sleep.

I didn’t know who or what the future held, but leaving my family behind would be a wrench. All my life, I’d yearned to be surrounded by family and people who loved me, and losing it would destroy me. Except, staying in Hambleton and having to live a life alongside Callum would shatter me, too, especially when I had to watch him move on.

The thought of it sickened me to my stomach.

It wasn’t meant to be like this.

It wasn’t supposed to hurt so bad.

Maureen sat at the big kitchen table in her nightie and robe, drinking a big cup of tea. Her eyes lifted to meet mine as I walked into the kitchen, and she smiled and greeted, “Merry Christmas, love.”

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