Page 22 of Destined Lovers

I nod and gulp to suppress any emotions, knowing that what we talk about next will most definitely change the mood, and I can’t go into the conversation with anything but a clear head.

“Let’s go sit. I want to tell you a few things.” He pauses, glancing at the nostalgic painting one more time before joining me.

We sit on the sofa, side by side, although he takes up half of it. I thought he gained all his muscles when he went to Uni, but I was wrong. He wasn’t done growing in his early twenties because, holy hell, he is massive. His legs fit snugly in his jeans, and his long-sleeve henley stretches across his broad chest and bulging muscles.

The first tattoo he ever got sneaks up past his collarbone, barely showing, but I know it’s there.

He lifts one arm and runs his hand through his unruly hair pushing it off his face, then stretches his other across the back of the sofa. I watch his shirt ride up on his arm, exposing his sleeve tattoo—one I’ve not seen before.

When we were younger, he always spoke about his desire for a sleeve. So, I knew he would eventually get it. I just wasn’t there like I had been for all his others, and I feel a tinge of hurt.

Irrational, I know.

He sees me staring and asks if I want to see it. I decline, as much as I would love to inspect his tattoos. We need to talk.

But first, I want to know how long he’s in Ireland for.

“When do you go back to London?”

He shrugs. “I can stay at least through the new year, I have some meetings I can’t miss at the beginning of January.”

If he were only here for two days, I wouldn’t have to get into the deep stuff, but I won’t play dumb and think he’ll leave me alone while he’s in Ireland.

After a second, it hits me that I actually have no idea what he does for a living because why would he have meetings for rugby?

“Do you not play rugby anymore?”

His face turns sullen. “I had a back injury and was forced to retire early,” he states angrily.

“I take it you weren’t on board with that?”

“Definitely not. My back never hurts. I was just a liability for them.”

Man, that sucks. He loved that sport so much. I can’t even imagine what he would do otherwise. Again, another twinge deep in my heart.

I knew I would miss so much of his life, but hearing it doesn’t feel good. At all.

“So, what do you do if you don’t play?”

“My best mate started a sports management company, and I’m head of all recruitment. He also started an after-school program for kids to play rugby in low-income neighborhoods that I run with him.”

I can’t help the smile that creeps up on my face. Co-running a charity is just so, Declan. It doesn’t surprise me that’s what he would end up doing. It also makes me happy his primary job is at least somewhat sports-centered since rugby had been his life for as long as I can remember.

Then when I think back to when he mentioned his job, he said something that caught my attention.

“When you say, ‘Icanstay,’ what do you mean by that? Are you staying only because you ran into me?”

He shrugs again.

Ugh, answer the question. “Well?” I huff.

“I would have been here for Christmas, for Maeve….”

“Oh my god, how is Maeve? How old is she now?” I ask, genuinely excited to hear his sister’s name, and the way his face lights up tells me he feels the same.

“She’s amazing, and she just turned eighteen recently. I can’t believe it, honestly.”

Maeve was an oopsie baby, hence the massive age gap of fifteen years. Declan’s parents only wanted one child, but I guess that’s not what life had in store for them.

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