Page 161 of Dirty Dylan: Dirty Dusters

In front of me.

How can I be comforted?

And then he’s there. So close, I can smell the familiar citrus notes from his body wash.

“And this girl? Well, I need her by my side to complete me because, and I know it’s an old cliché, but she really is my other half.”

I close my eyes. I can’t watch this.

Be brave. Be strong. Be an O’Brien.

“Jessie,” Bee whispers.

I open them, hoping it’s all over, but it’s not. He’s on one knee now. I can’t breathe. I just want it to be over. But now I can’t look away. It’s like my brain wants me to witness this moment so it will be forever imprinted.

So I can play it on repeat and torture myself. So I can’t ever forget the worst day of my life.

CHAPTERSIXTY-FOUR

DYLAN

One Month Earlier

The O’Connell Home, Darling, New York

When Grace Ryanasked to speak to me privately it wasn’t to ask for desk sex. And I have to say I was mighty relieved about that given I’d never so much as even kissed the girl.

Nope. It was to offer me a way out.

See, it turns out Grace has a secret. Nothing bad. Just that she’s into women. She’d never told anyone that before. Not even her folks. I think, deep down, she was hoping I had a thing for men. I think she thought that might be the reason why, at the ripe old age of thirty, I’d never dated a female. She thought us marrying would see us both able to continue to live our lie.

It was a pretty big assumption on her part, but I get it. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And when you’re faced with an unwanted arranged marriage, you’ll clutch at any straw, no matter how flimsy.

She quickly realized she’d gotten it wrong. That I was in love with Jessie. It’s why she quipped ‘good riddance’ when she did. Words she’d probably never uttered in her life before or indeed after. It was said to buy us some time. To buy her some time so she could break the news to me.

Grace didn’t want to be the cause of us splitting up, and she’d seen enough of Jessie to know she wouldn’t back down from the gauntlet being thrown. That her pride would get in the way and see her stay. Which she did.

Until dressing gown-gate.

That evening in my apartment, Grace was fumbling to find her words. I know now she was trying to tell me her secret, but she never quite managed. Instead, she knocked a café press of coffee all over herself and all over the wi-fi connection.

One quick shower later and wearing a dressing gown as her clothes dried, Jessie turned up at the door. Not knowing about Grace’s secret, I didn’t explain what had actually happened. There seemed little point. Was that the coward’s way out? Maybe. But Jessie and I had both already been led into temptation earlier that day resulting in us having desk sex, thus proving we had zero willpower when it came to resisting each other.

It was the only way to nip it in the bud once and for all. To let Jessie move on and live a life without me in it. My future had been decided. No matter how much I loved her and how much I wanted her, it didn’t lie with Jessie O’Brien.

Until that saving grace moment.

* * *

We’rein the family room. I’m currently pacing the floor while my slacks and sheepskin-slipper-wearing folks and my casually dressed brothers are sitting on the large black leather sectionals, all likely wondering why I’ve called them here this evening.

“Grace came to see me today.”

Ma immediately starts up. “Well, it’s good to see you’re finally accepting of her, Dylan. She’s a good girl. She ticks all the boxes, and she’s from the right background. She’ll make a…”

I interrupt her because she’s gloating and looks set to roll right into her ‘a mother always knows best’ speech.

“She’s gay, Ma. Grace is gay.”

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