Page 107 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
I’m sure my expression mirrors hers. My stomach flips.
“She was scared he’d leave.” Heartbreak threads through every syllable Maureen utters. “He was going to break it off and she panicked.”
I’m utterly mortified we’re overhearing this conversation without them knowing we’re here.
“Jesus, what a terrible thing to do to him.” Mom sounds angry.
“He’s forgiven her. For the time being he’s staying for the wee lad, though they broke up,” Maureen adds after a pause. “He adores his son. You can see it in his face. He’s wrapped around that boy’s finger. But Mara…” Her voice catches. “She won’t be his wife.”
Something long-dormant aches behind my ribs.
“They’re coparenting,” she finishes. “He’s trying to convince her to move to Seattle. Her mom lives across the country and if they’re close to us we can help when Fireball is on tour. Give Rafferty roots. Hopefully, she’ll agree.”
My ears burn. Joni’s eyes flick toward mine, filled with concern about the thousand things I’m trying not to feel but are rushing through my body.
A thump breaks the silence. My head whips around toward the noise to find Jude splatted on the rug. His face scrunches up followed by a soft whimper. Then louder.
Now, full-blown crying.
Thankfully, he’s not hurt, only startled. I scoop him into my arms, heart hammering. as my mom steps into view. Her smile fades when she sees us in the living room, obviously realizing we overheard the entire conversation.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “We didn’t mean to eavesdrop—”
Maureen’s eyes meet mine, her expression unreadable at first. I haven’t seen her in years, but I feel it instantly. The love. The warmth. A knowing ache.
Suddenly, Maureen’s arms are strong around me, the soft wool of her jacket brushing my cheek. I don’t pull away.
When she finally steps back, she keeps her hands on my shoulders.
“How are you, love?” she asks gently. “Really.”
I try to answer, but the words knot in my throat.
“You don’t have to pretend. I’ve been through the kind of storm you can’t explain to anyone else.” She looks deep into my eyes so I’ll understand what she’s telling me.
I blink hard.
“I know Rory’s still here,” she continues. “But the man I married, he disappeared for a long time. Some days I look at him and wonder if he’s ever fully coming back.” She cups my cheek. “But I never had to bury him like you did, Stevie. Somehow, you’re standing and fighting for your wee ones.”
I swallow, the emotion catching at the base of my throat.
She leans in closer, her voice a whisper. “You would’ve been my daughter, had things gone differently. You always are, in my heart.”
My chest cracks open.
Maureen smiles, soft and sure. “And you always will be.”
I fall back into her arms without hesitation, letting the weight of everything settle between us.
It’s muscle memory, this kind of love. Like I’m seven again, running across the street after school, slipping into her kitchen with Padraig and Liam while she stirred stew and sang along to the radio.
Everything’s different now.
Except this.
The way she holds me. The way we understand each other without saying a word.
We’ve both been broken open. Reshaped by grief. Hardened by survival. Softened by love.
