Page 17 of Destined Lovers

Bennett and Agnes smile. They both love it when I paint. While no one else sees my art besides them, it’s nice that they still get excited about my work.

I used to sell it at a small shop in town, under my pseudonym name, but I haven’t been as motivated lately. Although, with the holidays near, I’ll need the escape, so it’s a perfect time to get lost in my art. Because, no matter how much Agnes tries to make Christmas special for me, I can’t help but miss my mam and dad. And now, with the surprise visit from Declan, I’m sure I’ll need the time alone to reflect, and painting is my self-therapy.

“I’m in need of a new piece, so if you finish anything and don’t want to keep it, I’m happy to take it off your hands,” Bennet suggests.

“I can maybe paint you something for Christmas. With working so much, I’ve not been able to shop.” I offer, and his face lights up.

“Yes, please, I’d love that!” I know his excitement is genuine.

“But only,” I pause for effect, and he rolls his eyes. “If you don’t badger me about last week.”

“I consider you family, Riley, and I only ever have your best interest at heart. Killian seemed concerned, so I needed to make sure you were okay. You know that. It’s how our relationship works.”

I nod my head, agreeing with him. “Then you must trust me to tell you if something is going on after all this time.”

“So, nothing, nothing at all is going on with you?” he asks one more time, trying to catch me in my lie. I know his game.

I can see Agnes in the corner of my eye, shoving berries in her mouth to stay quiet, and it almost has me laughing out loud.

“Ben,” I warn. “Drop it. We are all safe. You don’t need to worry.” And that’s the truth, I may be omitting some details, but Declan is not a threat to us in any way.

He quietly sits back, accepting defeat, which I can tell he is not happy about. But that’s all he’s getting out of me, and he knows it.

We’ve been doing these breakfast dates for as long as I can remember, usually they are much less exciting than today.

We live in a small rural town in the North of Ireland, and not much goes on around here, so we mainly talk about pub gossip and whatever is going on with Agnes and her ever-so-hectic schedule. She’s busier than a teenager.

Which reminds me.

“Agnes, before I forget, I wrapped most of the perfumes for your knitting club so you can bring them over before Christmas. “

“Aye, lovely, thank you, Riley. I’ll bring it over this afternoon.” She claps her hands in delight.

I hope her friends love the scents we made for them; we took a lot of time to personalize them for each person.

After another hour or two, we finish chit-chatting, catching up on our weeks, and make plans for after Christmas. Bennett will celebrate with his brother, who lives close by, and I will, of course, celebrate with Agnes. Then we usually all have dinner together on boxing day and exchange gifts. We’ve been doing it this way for years, clearly creatures of habit.

Bennett’s finally leaving, but of course, he has to get the last word.

“You promise to keep me updated if anything changes? You know I like to be in the know.”

I groan and roll my eyes. “Ben, trust me, I know. Would you like to know next time I take a shite too?”

He crinkles up his nose. “Too far, Riley.”

“Well, then stay out of my business, and stop pushing me. I understand you need to know. Trust me. If anyone does, it’s me. We’ll always have each other’s backs, and I don’t mean to be a bitch, but you’re pushing me too much, and it’s starting to piss me off.”

He’ll never know about Declan unless I think it’s important enough to tell him, and I can never see that happening. Declan would never hurt a fly. My heart is the only thing in jeopardy of being hurt.

* * *

“Nora,” Agnes calls, back to my given name now that Bennett’s gone.

I look up from my painting, and she’s standing near the back door. I’ve been painting away since Bennett left a few hours ago. Getting lost in something as lovely as this Irish countryside set in front of me has been a nice distraction.

“I’m going into town now to bring the perfumes. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

“I’m good, but thank you,” I call back.

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