Page 110 of Since We're Here
“You. Love. Him.”
I knew I was falling for him when he took care of me at his cottage. Even farther back when we first slept together. I knew I shouldn’t. I fought it. Falling in love is the last thing I went to Ireland to do.
But with Stella’s words, I know. I sit up straight.
I’m in love with Patrick McNulty.
And—oh, crap—it’s so much more than what I’ve felt for any other man, including Paul and Noah and Blue.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“I love him.” I groan loudly.
My sister has the absolute nerve to laugh at me. I throw back the rest of my wine, focusing on the liquid warming my throat and my belly.
The laugh falls off her face when she sees my grimace.
I’m not with Patrick anymore. Was I ever really with him? Realizing I’m in love with the person I’m with would be a beautiful thing. Realizing I’m in love with a person who dumped me and fired me in the same breath? Who’s now in another country?
Awful. Painful. Pointless.
“Aw, Maddie. What a mess. I’m sorry I laughed.”
“It’s okay. It’s so ridiculous, it’s kind of funny.”
“Are you going to go back to Dingle and tell him?”
“No. There would be no point in that.”
“Are you sure?—”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I say, cutting her off. Never in a million years will I tell him.
“But you’ll have to face him in a few weeks.”
“I know.” That’s a problem for future me.
“What do you want to do until then? You are welcome to sleep on our couch.”
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent sure. You can hang out here, explore London, and totally get lost in your own thoughts.” She smirks at me.
I snort. “That’s exactly what I’ll do.”
“I’ll try to bring you back to reality each night.”
“Did I do what I always do somehow? Mess this thing up with him? Hook up with someone at a job I like and then have to leave?” I push my empty glass next to hers on the coffee table and squint my eyes shut.
Stella makes a noncommittal sound.
“I didn’t think I was doing that this time. I knew it was going to end—the job and the man. I thought I had it under control. I didn’t.”
I open my eyes and stare at Stella’s stark white ceiling. Patrick doesn’t know I left Dingle, but Saoirse texted me to say hi last night. I haven’t responded. As soon as I tell her I’m in London, Patrick will find out.
Something tells me he won’t get in touch. He was dead serious about ending things with me.
But it feels like there’s a magnet pulling me back to Ireland. That cold, gray country managed to worm its way into my heart. I miss it. I miss coffee at Dingle Brew, chatting with Saoirse, opening the pub.
