Page 121 of Dirty Eoin

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve silently cried overBaby Minethese past few weeks, and here I am crying over it again.

My poor little JJ. My heart aches when I think of how much he’s lost out on. I’d give anything for him to grow up with his daddy. I’d give anything for me to grow old with him too. But neither will ever happen.

I turned my grief into anger in order to achieve my plan. Once it was mission accomplished it then returned with a vengeance.

It was crippling. It was debilitating.

But then I lost Ace. It was always going to be.

It’s been a month since I walked out of Eoin’s apartment. He hasn’t tried to contact me once in all that time. I haven’t contacted him either. I needed time. Time to heal that I never got after Ace passed. I was still at the peak of grieving when I returned to New York, but I was given no choice in the matter. The Exterminator had a role to perform.

The sniper show had to go on.

I guess, in the end, losing him caused me to lose part of myself. And losing Irish caused me to lose even more. I was fractured. I needed to try to piece what was left of me back together.

I couldn’t just do what Delaney did and go off somewhere for months on end. That shit’s difficult to do when you’re a single parent. So, I created my own little sanctuary at home where I’ve spent some much-needed time with the kids, because I realize now that despite their young ages, we all miss Ace in our own way. We needed healing time. We also needed time to regroup as the smaller family unit that we are now.

Ace will always be part of us. In spirit if not in person.

I still speak to him every morning or when I’m feeling lost. I probably always will. It helps me feel close to him.

Sometimes I spin around, so sure I can feel him behind me or certain I can smell his familiar aromatic cologne. Then pain sucker punches me once more when I realize he’s not there.

For as long as I’m alive, Ace will live on in my memories, and I’ll do my best to pass on as many as I can to Fin and JJ so that he’s never forgotten.

And when I pass, and we’re reunited, we’ll just pick back up where we left off. We’ll run up that dusty old dirt track and he’ll show me how to skim stones, just like we did on that very first day.

Until then, I have to accept that he’s gone and he’s never coming back.

I’ve also used this time getting to know myself again. Not Jaine Jones the wife, or Jaine Jones the mother, or Jaine Jones the confidant.

Just Jaine Jones, the plain girl from Rising, California.

I’ve forgiven myself. Accepted myself. Learned to love myself again. I needed to do all of that before I could let anyone else in. To allow someone to love me, I need to love me first.

Ace has gone. The relationship I once had with Irish has gone.

Do I want a future with Eoin? I think maybe I do.

Do I love him? I’m not sure how I feel about him. It’s different.

With Ace, it was love at first sight. I knew straight away that we were end game. With Irish, it’s like we shared an intangible connection. And I know even though it hasn’t worked out for us this time around, it will in the next life. Irish and I are soul mates. I truly believe that.

With Eoin, it’s neither of those things. Maybe the feelings I have for him have evolved due to proximity. Maybe our being forced into this arranged marriage created something that under normal circumstances would never have come to pass.

Sure, there was an attraction between us before, as much as I try to deny it. Let’s face it, we’ve bickered over the years like a pair of pubescent high schoolers who’d developed an embarrassing but not entirely unwelcome crush on each other. But if we hadn’t kissed, would it ever have gone anywhere? Probably not.

Our relationship is physical in the main and toxic by its very foundation, so will it really stand the test of time? Will the physical attraction wear off? Will the toxicity burn like acid, destroying everything else in its path?

Who knows?

What I do know is that he’s made me feel alive again. I’ve fucking missed him. I want him, and the thought of him being with anyone else makes my trigger finger itch.

Maybe it’s not love. Maybe not yet. Maybe not ever.

But it’s something.

Something that could potentially turn into so much more?

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