Page 3 of Shattered Union

One month later

“Thank God, you’re back,” Ava cries.

I wrench my phone from my ear so I don’t burst my eardrum. My best friend can be a tad dramatic. “I’m walking through the airport now,” I tell her, I’ve been gone ten days, yet Ava makes it sound as though I’ve been gone a month.

I pull the small bag behind me as I walk toward the exit. Glad to have already been past security and lucky I only brought a carry-on with me. I hate waiting for the checked luggage.

“Are you going home?” she asks.

“I’m not sure yet. Why?” I question. Usually when I get back from a trip, Ava and I will meet up in the evening and catch up.

“Well, some guy has come by your house a few times since you’ve been gone.”

My brows knit together at her words. “You’ve been staying at my house?”

She has a key, just as I have one to hers. I don’t go to hers as she lives with her boyfriend, Andrew. I’m not a huge fan of his, but Ava loves him, and I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to ruin our friendship.

“Yeah, Andrew and I had a huge fight and I needed space. I knew you wouldn’t mind,” she tells me. “I’m back home now, and we’ve kind of sorted things out.”

“What’s your plans for this evening?” Maybe we can have dinner and drink ourselves stupid and she can open up about whatever the fuck is going on between them.

“Ugh, I’m working tonight; my boss is a real bitch.”

I laugh, “Shit, I apologise for that,” I say through my laughter. I own four bars in Dublin and Ava is the manager in the busiest one I have in Temple Bar.

“You’re a shitty liar, Callie O’Hara,” she growls at me. “Now, back to this fella that’s been stopping by your house. Who is he and where the hell have you been hiding him?”

“What guy?” I ask, pretending to act as though I’ve no idea who she’s talking about.

“The hot forty-ish guy, looks delectable in a suit. Hun, I’ve never seen a man fill out a bloody suit the way that guy does. I saw him four days ago and I haven’t seen a guy look that good since. Now spill.”

Damn the man. Denis Gallagher set my body alight unlike no one else. The day I met him, we had an amazing date. He took me to a fancy restaurant and then ended up back at my place where we had two amazing nights together.

He got a phone call in the morning on day three and told me he had to go, but he’d be back. That was a month ago, and I hadn’t heard from him. I carried on with my life and acted as though his lack of communication didn’t hurt me when in fact it shattered me. Now he’s back?

“Tomorrow night, we’ll have drinks, and we’ll bitch about men,” I tell her, not in the mood to talk about what happened with Denis over the phone.

“I’m holding you to that. Right, I’ve got to go, talk to you later. If you want some company, you know where I’ll be.”

I laugh once again, she’s a nut job. “I’ll think about it. I’m going to shower and then crash.”

“Go, get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says softly. “Love you, Callie, let me know you get home all right.”

I smile, it’s always the same with us. “Love you too, speak soon.” I end the call just as I reach the doors to the exit.

I’m not surprised in the slightest to see it’s pissing down with rain. But as I step out into the street, I inhale a deep breath and smile. There’s nothing better than the Irish air. No matter how long I’m away, I always relish that first intake of breath whenever I return home.

I walk to the taxi rank and climb in, giving the driver my address. I settle back in my seat and send out the group text to my family, letting them all know I’m safe and well, and on my way home. I ask them to leave me be for the evening and I’ll see them all tomorrow. My mam and dad answer instantly, both telling me they love me and they’ll see me in the morning. My brother, however, has to be an awkward fucker and ring me.

“Yes, Mav?” I answer, already dreading what he’s going to say.

“What’s the hostility about, sis? I’ve not seen you in almost two weeks and this is how you act? I’m not feeling the love.”

God, my brother can guilt-trip the damn pope if needed. “Okay, let’s try this again. Hey, Mav, what’s the craic?”

The fucker laughs. “Hey, sis, what’s the story?”

I shake my head, he’s after something, that much I know. “Nothing much, I’m knackered. So, what do I owe the pleasure?”

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