Page 35 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

We spoke so often back then, it didn’t seem to matter that we didn’t physically see each other. I didn’t go out of my way to avoid her. Did she try to avoid me?

Probably.

I cheated on her, after all. Why would she have wanted a constant reminder of that in her face?

Anyway, I’m sure she’ll let me know through Dylan if her conversation with Brittany contained anything for my ears.

Sitting on the leather sectional, I stare at the crystal decanter across the room. I ignore its temptation these days because I can. Both single biggest mistakes of my life were caused by consuming way too much of that toxic liquid.

It caused me to fuck Brittany. It caused me to fuck Sophia.

I can’t undo the past, so my future means having to live with the consequences of both those regrets. If I want to avoid any more mistakes, I have to learn to live without the drink.

I glance around my apartment once more. Now we’re back in New York, Sophia and I have agreed to live separately. She wants me to keep our mutual agreement to myself by pretending to the outside world, including my own family, that we’re a happily married couple.

I’m not sure why. Everyone is aware that ours was a marriage of convenience. A union forged for political gain and not much else.

Perhaps she’ll find herself a fuck buddy. I’m not bothered either way. I know she won’t grant me the same leeway, not that I’d be interested.

I’m Sophia’s possession and will remain so until the marriage is annulled, although it’s unlikely that will ever be agreed to.

It won’t be Sophia who’ll hold me to ransom. It’ll be Luc. The Dusters are a big fish in our world. With me as his brother-in-law, he has an automatic alliance with my family. I can’t see him relinquishing that priceless relationship any time soon, if ever.

I stare into space. In Sicily, I had nothing much to do, so one day tended to just bleed into the next, but now I’m back, I feel restless. My mind keeps drifting back to Jaine. I don’t want to sit here and wallow in self-pity.

Did Dylan see me enter my apartment? Should I message him? He won’t message me. Not when I placed a do not disturb sign on my existence twelve months ago.

I cross the room, access the panel then switch off all the security for the apartment. If I’ve to keep up the pretense of being a happily married man, I don’t need an observant Dylan witnessing that I’m not. If I have any visitors and they notice the lack of Sophia-related items, I’ll just say we’re living at her place in the main.

I look at the clock—nine p.m.

The hands seem to be turning slower than they would normally. I should make the most of it. I’ll be back on the Duster treadmill soon enough. I then realize I don’t want to make the most of it. I’ve been in storage long enough. Should I go to my parents’ now or leave it until morning?

I guess there’s no time like the present.

The O’Connell Home, Darling, New York

I stand outside the gated entrance, having caught a cab.

It didn’t seem right letting one of our drivers know I was back before I’d told any of my immediate family. Had I used one of our own people, I’d also have felt obliged to converse.

About married life. About my wife. About what I’ve been doing these past twelve months.

Marriage sucks. My wife is on paper only. And I’ve been doing nothing.

I’m not sure they’d have appreciated that response. It may have made things rather awkward, but then I no longer wish to partake in idle chit-chat. I no longer feel the need to fill silences with the sound of my own voice.

It’s a clear night, so the temperature is frigid. Staring up at the array of stars, I consider my current dilemma. How to get past the Fort Knox security.

I have two options. I can either call Ma or I can call our Dylan.

I’m nervous when contemplating talking to my brother after all this time, but I dial his number anyway.

“How’s it hanging?” An alien silence follows my opening line of old. I shuffle awkwardly on my feet while waiting for him to respond, watching as my warm breath collides with the cold air.

“Paddy.” He sounds shocked.

“Dylan, I’m….”

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