Page 51 of Aidan

I swallow. “Okay. You know I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Aidan smiles, but as someone who knows him almost better than anyone else, it’s clearly fake. He unfolds his frame and closes the distance between us until he’s close enough to touch. There’s a clink of glass hitting the countertop and them he palms my cheeks between both hands and presses the same comforting kiss on my forehead that I’ve always loved. It feels different this time. Like it’s the last one he’ll ever give me. Tears sting my eyes for some reason.

He draws back and stares down at me. “You’re my best friend, you know that.”

I lay my hands over his wrists and try to hold back the panic attack building. “You’re mine, too. Always.”

“I’m going to be gone for the day. Will you be okay here alone?”

“Of course,” I say softly. “Besides, I won’t be alone. There are plenty of people here to keep me company.”

Aidan releases me and with only a brief glance he walks away. I stand there another minute, slowly breathing in and out, until I take in a long, shuddering breath and go back to what I’d come in here to do in the first place. Moving on automatic pilot, I fill four glasses with juice and, after all the practice carrying drinks at the pub, I manage to pick them all up and take them into the dining room in a single trip. Kellen, Carson, and Aisling are chattering with each other in between bites.

My appetite has vanished, but I force myself to eat a little if for nothing more than sustenance. One by one the kids finish eating.

“Take your plates to the kitchen and rinse them off before putting them in the dishwasher please.”

The three of them comply and then I’m left alone. I wallow in self-pity for a short time and then stand. Whatever is going on with Aidan, I need to trust him. Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions and worrying about something that isn’t even there. Straightening my shoulders, I clean the rest of the kitchen and then grab Aidan’s laptop from the spot on the floor in our bedroom where it had fallen last night. It doesn’t appear to have suffered any damage. I take it with me out onto the back patio and click on the first open tab.

I’m going to open that art gallery, and it’s going to be incredible. Which means I need to get to work.

CHAPTER25

Aidan

I hadn’t sleptat all last night. At least not until I passed out after finishing off the rest of the whiskey left in the bottle I’d pulled from the cabinet. The couple hours I did manage to get weren’t near enough and only added to the headache I had from the hangover.

Once I’ve taken a quick shower and changed my clothes, I walk out the front door and get in my car. Seconds later, I’m on the road toward Dublin. I wind my way through the city streets and across the Liffy until I reach my destination. After finding a place to park I walk down the footpath that leads into the place I haven’t visited since right after Sorcha and I met and her mother died.

The atmosphere inside the cemetery is solemn as other pedestrians make their way to their loved one’s gravesite. A few stand around an open grave comforting each other. I only give them a passing glance as I continue on my way. Less than ten minutes later I stand in front of where a large marble statue bearing our family’s crest towers over the neighboring markers.

I take in the newest ones in the ground at my feet. All of them have been added within the last twenty to thirty years. There’s Uncle Brian, an infant daughter of Uncle Conor’s, Mhamó, Grand-da, and finally, my mother.Kathleen Róisín Donnelly. The only other inscription besides her birth and death dates is “Beloved Daughter”. That’s it. Nothing to indicate she’d been a wife or mother or friend.

Did she even have any friends? I’d barely been ten when she died. I hadn’t paid attention to that kind of thing. She cried a lot, though.

Was there ever a time when she wasn’t crying? Only when she screamed how much she hated us. Hated Da. Hated her life. I’d once walked into her room to ask a question. She’d been sitting on her bed quietly sobbing. In her hands was a picture frame. She stroked it with her fingertips and whispered, “I love you and miss you so much.”

The floor must have creaked under my foot, because her head snapped up. Pure hatred spewed from her eyes. She jumped from the bed—yelling at me to get out—and slapped me across the face. I turned and ran out of the room, her screams and curses following me until they only echoed inside my head.

Until that day, I’d hated her as much as she hated us. After, I pitied her for how weak and pathetic she was. How weak love had made her. I swore I would never love anyone if that’s what it did to a person.

Except Da’s not weak and aside from his children, there isn’t anyone he loves more than Nora. Carrick Donnelly rules an entire organization. He’s the most powerful man in Dublin.

Maybe I’m the weak one. The one who lets fear rule me.

I stare down at my mother’s gravestone. Will mine, one day, read nothing more than “Beloved Son”?

Turning, I walk back to my car. Once I get behind the wheel, I make a couple phone calls.

* * *

I drivethrough the iron gate of the estate and down the lane toward the manor. The late afternoon sun hides behind the shade of the trees. A few rays of light filter through casting long shadows across the sprawling landscape. I reach the house and park. For a few minutes, I sit there, staring at the front door. The second I cross the threshold, there’s no turning back.

Taking a deep breath, I exit, stride forward, and step into the entryway. The faint sound of the boys’ voices drift in from the left. I follow it to the common area where the two of them are engaged in a battle on the television screen. They yell out commands to each other and their fingers press wildly on the buttons and knobs of their controllers. Neither of them even glance over at me, too engrossed in their game.

I make my way down the hallway into my bedroom only to find it empty. I’m not sure why I expected otherwise?Did you really think Sorcha would be sitting here just waiting for you to come back? I shake my head at the idiocy and go back the way I came. Next, I check Aisling’s room. It’s just as empty.

The library is quiet as usual. Finally, I walk through the dining room and movement outside catches my eye. I stand at the door and my gaze lands on Sorcha and Aisling. They’re sitting at the table, their heads bent close, with paper strewn in front of them. The young girl points at the sheet in front of her older sister and Sorcha’s hand moves, the pencil gripped between her fingers moving with it.

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