Page 82 of After Indigo Irish Nights
He told her about his holiday love affair with the potter who’d taught him ceramics and then showed her some of his recent work.
“This is really good, Liam.” She pointed to the tall clay buildings he’d built, glazed in soft creams and golds with slate gray for the roofs. “This doesn’t look like Ireland.”
“No. But I keep seeing those buildings in my head when I meditate. And I hear ‘La Vie en Rose’ playing. I feel like it’s Paris.”
“Paris?” She looked closer. “Yeah, I can see that. On my bucket list. Ellie loves it.”
“I’ve also had this urge to start learning French.” He sipped his tea again. “Can’t say I know why yet, but it’s a step. When you know you have a step to take, you take it. But you know that already. You’re in Ireland, after all.”
She played with her mug handle. Shewashere, and even more surprising, she was in love. “Yes, life is weird sometimes.”
“Or wonderful.” He took a deep breath of his own. “It’s all in how you look at things. Me, I try and be positive. That’s why I’m not worried about you and Declan.”
“You’re not?” She must be tired to ask. “Seriously? It’s almost five, and he hasn’t come back yet. Or even texted me. Nothing. That’s not what a boyfriend does.”
His green eyes darkened. “All right. Since you asked, I’ll tell you really why I’m not worried.”
She went still on the inside. Suddenly she was scared to hear his take. She wished she could rewind the conversation.
“You went pale again. You needn’t. I’m not worried because of Sorcha. If she says you’re meant, you’re meant.”
Her diaphragm clenched. Not this again. “She’s not infallible.”
“No, because you and Declan get to choose.” He smiled. “I trust you’ll both choose well. If you choose love, then everything that threatens it is like background noise. It’s like you Americans say about the cream rising to the top. You toss out the whey and move on.”
“Toss out the whey.” She put her hand to her forehead. “Okay, I’m totally fried. No wonder they call you Yoda.”
He laughed. “Drink your tea. It will revive you.”
She was falling asleep in her chair when he reached out and touched her arm. “Why don’t you go to sleep?”
When she reached Declan’s room, she almost started crying when she smelled him on the sheets. Where was he? She texted him again:No loss is worth you staying away like this. Come home.
When she woke, she was groggy. He wasn’t in bed next to her. She checked her phone. It was almost nine. There’d been no word from Declan. Nothing. He should have called.
He should have let her be there for him.
She didn’t want to wait anymore. Her clothes were wrinkled and dirty. She wanted a shower. She needed to brush her teeth.
She left Ellie a note on the kitchen counter and slipped out. The tears came as she drove home, blurring her vision. She’d gone and done it. She was totally screwy over a guy again, and sure enough, it had made her miserable.
“Sorcha!” she yelled, suddenly angry. “You’d better be right, girl.”
The spirit didn’t appear, which only made her tears fall harder. She scrubbed at them the whole way back. When she reached her cottage, she realized she was hoping Declan would be there, asleep in her bed.
Only he wasn’t.
After she let herself inside, she kicked the door closed.
Okay, he’d lost a match, but he was being completely inconsiderate. She was so done with this. Why in the hell would she want to be with a man like that?
Sorcha materialized before her.
She jumped and cried out. “Jesus! You scared the shit out of me.”
“If you hadn’t been so mad, you might have smelled oranges.” Her dress didn’t flutter like usual, nor was there a smile on her face.
“Iammad.” She heard how hard her tone was. “Getting madder by the second.”
