Page 8 of Heart Strings
Without breaking eye contact, I take another long sip of my beer. Bitter foam brushes my lip, but it’s nothing compared to the bitterness I feel inside. I shoot daggers his way. If he’s gonna show his face around the Hare’s Breath, I’m making sure he knows he’s unwelcome.
At least, to me. The rest of the patrons are going wild at this impromptu show and I can’t blame them: His stage presence and talent are hypnotizing.
Aidan leans close to the microphone. “This is a song that means a great deal to me—”
“Just sing it already, ya spanner!” his brother, Fionn, calls out, bodhrán in hand.
“Don’t rush me.”
Aidan strums at his mandolin and warm sounds envelop the pub. It’s “Boys Don’t Cry.”
Just like that, I’m transported back in time.
This same pub, three years ago. Our first date. The first time I heard Aidan sing.
To celebrate earning my bachelor’s in biology, Lark had bought me a ticket to visit her in Galway. It was my first time traveling alone. My first time on a plane. Lark and Callum were in a rough patch, and Aidan had been the solicitor to simultaneously save Callum’s business and his relationship with Lark. From the moment our eyes first caught in the law office where he worked, I haven’t been the same. Aidan’s dimple popped as he greeted me with a slightly gap-toothed smile and that was it. Game over.
Aidan took me to a tiny pub called the Hare’s Breath. What I didn’t expect was for him to borrow someone’s guitar and steponto the corner stage. His rich tenor voice cut through the murmurs and clinking glasses, sweet and strong, and he watched me as if I were the only person in the room. Nimble fingers picked at the strings so effortlessly, I wanted them on my body. I’d never heard the song before, but he told me later it was “Boys Don’t Cry” by the Cure.
Our first kiss was in the high-walled corner snug. I can still feel the warmth of his palm wrapped around my thigh under the table. His wavy hair mussed between my fingers. I’d wanted a vacation fling, and Aidan, with his lilting voice and inked arms, was more than I could have hoped for. One night that changed my life.
Now, from the stage, Aidan’s eyes remain glued to mine. Something unnameable is there. Regret and longing and…He’s always been an incredible performer, but even I didn’t realize he could be this emotive.
Aidan reaches the chorus of “Boys Don’t Cry,” about knowing there is no second chance. No. I don’t want to hear him sing those words; it hurts too much. I hop off the barstool, pushing my way to the door before Aidan can get the words out. When the vestibule door shuts, I lean against the wall, suddenly unable to take another step. I can just hear his voice, slightly muffled. I watch bustling tourists and locals on the cobblestone streets through the glass door and let the sound wash over me. And then, the song is over. The crowd inside, oblivious to the drama unfolding in my heart, breaks into a hearty round of applause.
Screw this. I open the door and a gust of September chill ruffles the bunting and flags over the busy street. I wrap my sweater tighter around my waist. Going out had seemed like such a good idea a half hour ago. I consider texting that DevPatel look-alike, before deciding what I really want is a kebab from one of the carts on Quay Street and a night of uninterrupted sleep.
Ten minutes later, I’m on a bench not far from the Hare’s Breath and tearing into glorious, hot meat on a stick when a smooth, familiar voice speaks from behind me.
“You were watching me.”
Chapter 5
Aidan
Cielo glares upat me with the intensity of a laser beam, slowly chewing and swallowing her kebab. “I wasn’t watching you. I only came out for a drink.”
Every little freckle on her nose is still right where I left it.
“Lots of places in this town for a drink,” I say. “And the Hare’s Breath was mine first.”
Lo points at me with the skewered meat. “Why don’t you go hang out with Bono or something?”
“I don’t know Bono.” How famous does she think I am? “I just…saw you in the crowd and I didn’t know if—”
“If it meant anything?” she interrupts. “It doesn’t. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Ouch. There was a time when her smiling face in the front row meant everything to me. Hell, she was the one who convinced me to perform my own originals rather than just covers and traditional folk songs. She’s the reason I was discovered. Lo supported me with her whole heart here in Galway, but longdistance was a line she wouldn’t cross. And if my music career was going to go further, I had to move to London. So I did.
“We need to find a way to coexist,” I say. “For Lark and Callum. For the sake of their wedding.”
She flicks her head to get her hair out of her face. “Look, it’s easier for me to pretend we’re strangers.”
Does Cielo truly think that’s possible? I’d never felt as close to another person as I felt to her. When my dreams were finally coming true and I was offered a record deal and a European tour, I’d expected her to be happy for me, but she broke it off instead. She wouldn’t eventrylong distance. Bewildered by all the sudden changes in my life—including her lack of support—I didn’t have the will to argue.
“We’re far from strangers, Lo. Come on. This is me waving a white flag.”
“Is that why you chose that song?” she asks.
