Page 46 of Dirty Eoin

Her hair is tied back today, and my gaze is instantly drawn to the tattoo behind her right ear. The scrolled letter I now has a small F beside it. For Irish and Finian, no doubt. I’m guessing the A behind her left ear has a small J alongside it these days.

My observation doesn’t go unnoticed, but nothing is said.

My attention then switches to the little boy in her arms. A little lad with a mop of unruly black hair that looks the spit of our Paddy but in miniature form.

Guilt.

It’s all I feel when I think of my brother. Our Paddy could have had it all. The wife. The child. A ready-made family.

And now he has nothing.

As soon as I make eye contact with Finian, he smiles and holds his chubby arms out, his little horseshoe birthmark on display.

Jaine chuckles as she looks at him. “He’ll go to anyone he thinks will listen to him talk before you think to flatter yourself, Eoin.”

I laugh out loud in response. “Charming as ever, Jaine.”

“Nice to know I haven’t lost my touch.”

“Can I?” I motion my head toward the little one.

There’s a pause. She’s thinking about it. She’s probably worried I’ll grab him and slam the door in her face. That she’ll never see him again.

Who can blame her? In her eyes, we’ve taken everything from her.

She gently leans him forward, and I scoop him up in my arms. He’s heavier than I thought, and he smells of baby powder. He smiles up at me, all bright blue eyes, tiny white teeth, and with saliva hanging from his bottom lip.

“He’s teething.” Jaine laughs as she wipes the drool away with the back of her hand before wiping it down her combats. It’s nice to see her smiling so openly, but I’m not foolish enough to think it’s for my benefit. It’s because she loves this little lad more than life itself and doesn’t want him to ever see her with any expressions aside from positive ones.

Like those of love and happiness.

“So, are you going to invite us in, or are we going to stand here all day?”

She breaks my trance. I’m conscious I’ve been staring at her. We both are.

“Of course.” I motion my head for her to step inside. She closes the door behind her, and I watch as she takes in her surroundings.

She stares at the shrine of photos, her gaze drifting to the one of Fin that has been placed beside one of our Paddy at the same age. It could be the same child. A flicker of emotion crosses her face as she takes it in.

Regret. Hurt. Anger. Blame.

I know she blames us. Blames me. That she always will. And I accept that. Or at least the part I played.

But life moves on. It has to.

Her husband is dead. Paddy is married. I’m about to get wed. Then again, in this life, by tomorrow, everything could have changed.

She follows me into the family room. Everyone stares. Not at me. Not at Jaine.

But at Finian O’Connell.

He immediately spies the stack of toys and wriggles in my arms, wanting down. I look at Jaine and she nods. Standing him on short chubby legs, I can’t help but smile as I watch him toddle across to where Caoimhe is playing.

Cousins.

I glance at my da and he’s entranced. Fin grabs a unicorn plush and then lets out a noisy yell before trying to stuff the whole thing in his mouth all at once. His actions earn him a chuckle from everyone in the room, which causes him to stop what he’s doing. He looks around wearing a beaming smile when he realizes he has a captive audience.

Like father, like son.

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