Page 97 of Verses Of Us

“We’re Saturday.”

“A week, then.”

“A week? But that’s when you called me…”

“Guess so.”

“What happened?”

He told her what he could. That they’d spent a few of the best days of his life together and that he’d thought she’d stay.

While Saoirse listened, he rummaged through the wrappers on the table and found a half-eatenO’Henry. He glanced down, taking in the state of his stained green t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Fuck, he had hit rock-bottom. He’d been here before, but this time filled him with a profound sadness.

He cut across the room to add logs to the fire. Standing at the hearth, he leaned against the stone slab mantle, staring at the flames until his eyes watered.

“Do you need that?” Saoirse asked, nodding toward the fireplace. “It’s bloody hot in here.”

Ciarán ignored her question. A chill ran through his body—he was freezing and hadn’t been able to warm himself, not since Lex had left. Maybe he was coming down with something.

“Listen, brother, I’m sorry for all that,” Saoirse said. “You took a chance, you tried, but you need to get your shit together and move on.”

“Do I?” he asked, unemphatically.

“Yes. Rajesh keeps calling me, says you kicked him out, and he hasn’t heard from you since. You’ve missed two interviews. Plus, he had to cancel on that biographer.”

Ciarán stared at the framed photos on the mantle, the memories captured within them. In one photo, taken during the last tour years ago, the band was having a good time. The dancers were smiling; he was too, but he remembered how fake it had been. They all believed life on the road was his happy place, but he’d deceived them.

He rolled his eyes. “So what?”

“So what?” she exclaimed. “Look, I get it, life sucks. But people are counting on you, Ciarán. You’ve got obligations.”

“As if I give a shit about those,” he said, slamming his hands on the stone ledge. “I’ve given my all to them. I’ve made more money than that label can use. They can eff off for a few days.”

Saoirse came to stand next to him. “You kiddin’ yourself? You think it’ll take you a few days to…” Her words faded, and she looked back at the mess. “I haven’t seen you like this before.” Her eyes softened. She smoothed his hair back, and he caught the way her face twisted when she pulled her hand away. “How about you go take a shower? I’ll make us lunch.”

Freshly washed and shaved, Ciarán felt like a new man. He stepped out into the garden and the sight of his sister’s cooking made his mouth water. He sat down at the table, diving into the warm macaroni and cheese, savouring the blend of cheddars, instantly being reminded of their mam.

“Much better.” Saoirse smiled, her empty plate cast aside, and watched him eat. “Took you long enough.”

“Felt good, yeah.”

A heavy pause filled the air. Ciarán picked up on his sister’s silence, certain she was preparing a speech of a lifetime, but kept his attention on his lunch.

“You know what I’ve been thinking?”

He smirked and shook his head in response. “No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“I don’t think youcanget over her.”

He hadn’t expected her words to be so loaded. “Way to ease into it, sis.”

She smiled and leaned in, crossing her arms on the table. “I mean it. Do you think you can move on without her in your life?”

He speared a noodle onto his fork, but then put it back down, his appetite gone. “I’ve been doing that, haven’t I?”

“You thinkthisis you moving on, do ya?” She pointed to his appearance, a clean t-shirt, but yet another pair of sweats. “You need to go get her.”

“You’ve gone mad.”

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