Page 85 of Verses Of Us

They stepped out and Ciarán gathered her bags from the trunk. Alexis took a deep breath, the sweet scent of meadow grass filling her senses. She closed her eyes, enjoying the warm afternoon sunlight on her skin and the freshness in the air. Alexis could only hear birds, the occasional horse’s neigh and the crunching of gravel beneath Ciarán’s feet.

Though they weren’t too far from the city, his home seemed hundreds of miles away from Dublin’s bustle.

“Shall we?” he said, guiding her into the house.

A small vestibule welcomed her, with black-and-white checkered tile, and beyond, dark chestnut wood floors.

Ciarán pointed left. “The bedrooms are down that way. But first, I promised you a late breakfast, didn’t I?”

She’d all but forgotten his offer, and her stomach growled in response. “That would be nice.”

He set her suitcase down by the staircase, and she followed him through a large formal dining room and into a fairly big but understated kitchen. White cabinets lined the exposed stone walls and dark wood beams crossed the ceiling. At the centre, a four-top table sat surrounded by white chairs.

That was it. There was no large, expansive kitchen as she’d pictured, no bright colours or gaudy signs of his wealth. Sparse of luxury yet brimming with character, the room felt homey and well-loved. A home she could envision picking out for herself, were it in her budget.

While Ciarán busied himself with the espresso machine, and rummaged through the fridge, she walked to the double French doors which opened onto the eastern side of the property. In a daze, she stepped out into a garden surrounded by tall green hedges, directing the eye to the sprawling land ahead and a lake further down the hillside.

“There used to be a wall over there,” Ciarán said over her shoulder, pointing to a sizable gap between two stone walls. “I didn’t understand why they’d want to hide such a view.”

She couldn’t either. “It’s stunning.”

Handing her a cup of coffee, he asked her to sit with him. She did, but kept her eyes on the view. She imagined what it would be like to wake to it every morning.

“This is truly a great place, Ciarán. You’re really lucky.”

“And you haven’t even seen the rest of it.” He grinned, blowing on his cappuccino.

Something over his shoulder drew her eye. “Is that a chapel?”

He nodded, but didn’t look away from her. “Used to be a banquet hall. It’s now my living room.”

Absorbed by the size, she tipped her head, her jaw dropping. At the back, the building pressed into the mountain as if carved from it and she now noticed the entire property slanted. Further up the hill, large solar panels fed the house electricity. Ciarán’s living room sat nestled within that hill and had small Gothic windows; slivers cut within the stone walls, reminding her of castle embrasures.

“It’s also my home studio. The acoustics are… Why don’t I show you?” He stood, taking her cup of coffee for her. “Besides, I can tell you won’t hear a thing I say until you see it for yourself.”

Alexis blinked a few times. “What about breakfast?”

“Breakfast will have to be pizza. It’s in the oven.”

Cloaked in déjà vu, a quiver fluttered over her skin.

They walked into the house through a door toward the back and Alexis gasped. “Oh, wow. This is…wow.” Her voice echoed through the large space.

All four walls of the living room were made of stones, stacked high to a vaulted ceiling with more dark wood beams. The floors, thick wooden slats grooved and dented by centuries of use, creaked beneath their steps. Above them hung the biggest iron chandelier she’d ever seen, its three-tier design intricately carved with Gothic crosses.

“Amazing, yeah?”

When she peeled her eyes away from the ceiling, she found Ciarán staring, his eyes wide and expectant, like a child. She couldn’t recall seeing him so happy.

“So,thisis downsized?” she teased in response.

“This is downsized.”

“Where did you live before, Kensington Palace?”

Alexis walked through the room, around the two white sofas, past hutches covered with pictures of Ciarán surrounded by friends. She stopped at a small table tucked in a corner, cluttered with various awards—Grammys, Brits, AMAs, you name it.

“My old place didn’t feel right. It was too massive. My ego bought that house.” She lifted a Grammy as he stepped next to her. “This one’s different. This is my forever home.”

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