Page 122 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

We’ve not spoken about the deceit. I’ve only discussed it with Eoin and Dylan, but I’m aware the rest of the family now knows that I know.

Fin lets out a mighty yell as soon as he sees me—his favorite uncle.

His da.

“Hey there, trouble.” I can’t stop the tears from spilling down my cheeks as I lift him and spin him around—my carbon copy.

My son.

Jaine walks over to us as I hold him in my arms.

Our son.

“Finian.”

He looks at her before leaning over to press a messy kiss against her cheek. She smiles at him and then at me.

“Finian, this is your da.”

She turns to look at me with tear-filled eyes. “He’s never called anyone that before… I…” She swallows thickly, her voice filled with raw emotion. “I would never have allowed it.” Shifting him to one arm, I wrap my other around her, and we stand there. A small family unit. For now, at least.

Jaine and I shed silent tears, and it’s then I hear my ma sobbing in the background because now she realizes this was how it was always meant to be.

Me and her. Her and me. Not the fucked-up mess we’re in now.

I have my arms wrapped around the two most important people in my life. The two people that represent my whole fucking world. For how much longer is anyone’s guess.

I understand now why they call it the present because these two right here are the best fucking gifts I’ve ever had. Who needs tomorrow when you can have today?

Padraig’s Apartment, Hudson Yards, New York

“Would I be able to see a copy of the contract?”

I frown at my phone—a question from out of nowhere from our Dylan when we were talking about work. “Why do you want to see it?”

“I just want to know what they’re making you sign up for.”

“They’re not making me sign up for anything.”

“Okay, I want to see what you’re willingly signing yourself up for.”

“Only if you swear you won’t show it to anyone else.”

“I swear.”

“You’re a proficient liar these days.” I snort.

“Only because you made me one.”

He’s right. I send him a copy of the document that’s currently still open on my screen. I know he’ll send it to my big brother. That they’ll try to talk me out of it. At the end of the day, it’s my decision. My life.

My existence.

“Have you signed it yet?”

“No.”

“Because you don’t want to?”

---