Page 33 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

I stare at her reflection. Her expression is riddled with guilt as she continues to wring her hands.

Does she feel better now? Well, fuck her and fuck her guilty conscience. What about my life?

What about Irish’s life?

My nose starts tingling as I struggle to hold back twelve years’ worth of tears.

“Did you have any idea how much I loved him?” My whispered voice breaks as the memory of his betrayal hits me like a sucker punch.

A betrayal that never fucking was.

“As much as he loved you, I’d imagine. Drunk or sober, he would never have slept with me, Jaine. I realized that the next morning, but by then, it was too late to turn back.”

I swallow lumps of pain, regret, self-pity, and anger. It’s all in there, and it all tastes fucking vile.

“All this time, I thought he cheated on me,” I sob-whisper.

“He didn’t. He would never have cheated on you. He loved you so much. He’d just managed to convince himself that you didn’t love him back.”

I stare at my reflection. At the blonde girl in the mirror who has silent tears running down her cheeks over what might have been.

Things happen for a reason, I know that better than most. Who’s to say things would have worked out for us even if we had stayed together? His head may have always been turned by beautiful girls with olive skin and dark hair.

Like Brittany. Like Emilia.

“All I ask is that you let me tell him,” I say as I wipe fresh tears from my cheeks.

She nods in silent agreement.

Leaving the restroom, I take in the frowns that both Skylar and Fletch are wearing.

They knew. They all knew. And yet they said nothing.

They’ve allowed me to believe the worst of him for twelve years. Worst still, for twelve years, they’ve allowed Irish to believe the worst of himself.

CHAPTERELEVEN

PADRAIG

Padraig’s Apartment, Hudson Yards, New York

I glance around my apartment,taking in the familiar cream and navy décor. Is it good to be back? I’m still undecided.

It feels like I’ve entered the twilight zone.

Nothing's changed here in my own space, but in the outside world, everything has. What’s reality and what isn’t? Through choice, reality isn’t something I’ve faced up to in a long time.

There is one apology I do have to make.

Padraig:Hi, Fletch. It’s Paddy. Sorry, I couldn’t make your reunion. I’ve only just got back to New York. I was going to drop in unannounced, but the flight was delayed.

Fletch:No worries, bud. Maybe we can catch up before I have to fly back to London? It’s a shame you couldn’t make it. An old acquaintance of yours turned up, although she didn’t stay very long.

I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. Same old Fletch. Annoying fucker.

Padraig:Don’t keep me in suspense.

Fletch:Jaine.

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