Page 112 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

“I know why he said that.” He sounds sheepish.

“Enlighten me.”

“Paddy told me you and he kissed, and I accidentally told Eoin. He wanted to know what happened between you when you went to his apartment. He was putting me under pressure. I couldn’t tell him the real reason so it just slipped out.”

I frown at the handset. “It wasn’t that sort of kiss.”

“I know that, but he didn’t give me any chance to explain further.”

“So, what are you saying exactly?”

“That maybe you could attempt a reconciliation.”

“But we’re not compatible, Dyl. We’ve tried so many times.”

“Trust me, Jaine. He’ll try to change, if you will. When he saw you at the church, he cried. I’ve never seen Eoin emotional before. He thought you were dead. We both did. I’m not sure he could survive losing you.” I wait for him to continue. It’s obvious he’s got something else on his mind. “Did anything happen between you and Paddy?”

“Are you asking if we kissed or if we fucked?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to be quite so blunt.”

“No to both.”

“That’s good to know.”

“My jacket, Dyl?”

“Eoin’s picking it up from Paddy’s, and then he’s going to drop it off.”

“And my hog? It’s parked up outside the church.”

“That’s the thing, Jaine, and that’s why you were pretty much impossible to find. There’s been no sign of it.”

My heart sinks in my chest. Please, God. Not my goddamn hog.

“We need to find it, Dyl. I’ve had that ride since I was eighteen years old.” I can hear the break in my voice.

“We’ll find it. Don’t worry.”

What he doesn’t add is that he can’t guarantee what condition it will be in when they do.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE

PADRAIG

Padraig’s Apartment, Hudson Yards, New York

Sometimes,I wish I’d never woken back up. Those days spent with Jaine were the best days of my life, even if they were brutal. They gave me a taste of what married life with her could be like.

We argued. We apologized. We laughed. We got angry. We joked. We got melancholy. We drove each other up the wall. I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

I saw her. She saw me. I want more. I want all of her.

But I can’t have her.

I never cheated. She loves me. We share a child. But I have nothing to offer her. I’m trapped in a marriage for the foreseeable future with a woman who wants me to get her pregnant. Only then can I have my freedom.

That’s if she doesn’t turn into the Sicilian equivalent of a praying mantis once she’s achieved her goal.

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