Page 113 of The Bossy One

“I was okay with those issues when we were just hooking up. But they weren’t okay with me anymore once I realized I was pregnant with Catie. So, I never told him she was his,” she said.

I blinked. I’d assumed Seamus had known about Catie for years. If he’d only recently realized…

I still hated him. But I could also sympathize with wanting to meet his kid.

“My point is,” Sinead said, “you’re not asking Olivia to go on casual dates. You’re asking her to give up her career and move to a foreign country for you. So, she needs more than love. She needs to know you’re as invested in building a future together as you’re asking her to be.”

I stayed silent, processing her advice.

If Sinead was right, and I’d been in the wrong with Olivia…then I’d given up my own shot with her for no reason.

Across the yard, Catie held up a worm in triumph.

“Want to talk to your daughter?” I asked. “She’s investigating the local worm population.”

“That’s my girl,” Sinead said warmly.

* * *

My mum was babysitting Catie that afternoon so I could do some work. But instead of working, I found myself in the hotel pub in Galway, staring morosely at a pint of Guinness.

Wasthere a way to get revenge on Mark O’Rourke without hurting anyone else?

On the other hand, what if I was so desperate to find a way back to Olivia, I was fooling myself into thinking I could find a way around destroying the mansion?

“You going to drink that or just stare at it?” the bartender asked.

I grunted.

My phone buzzed. I glanced at it absently, my heart freezing when I saw the name.

@1000words. Olivia had messaged me.

I tapped the phone, hungry for her words.

I don’t know if it’s ok to message you like this. But we were friends on here first. So, here goes—I made a change to my picture book I’m proud of. I think you’ll like it. Want to see it?

I could hear her voice in my head as I read, and it felt like warm sun on a winter day. It wasn’t enough, but it washer.I almost told her to show me her book. A part of me was willing to take a tepid online friendship, if that was the only part of Olivia I could have.

I started to type out that response, but then I stopped. I was fooling myself. For a brief, glorious summer, Olivia had let me fall in love her. Having tasted that, I could never go back to less.

I deleted my initial message and started again.I can’t go back to being just your online friend, Olivia. I respect that you don’t return my feelings. But I’m not ready to be friends just yet.

I sent the message before I could overthink it. Then I turned off my phone and downed half my beer in one gulp.

“You all right,a chara?” a man said from down the bar.

I looked up, surprised to hear someone speaking Irish in a pub that catered to tourists, and came face to face with Seamus O’Rourke.

“Shit. I didn’t realize it was you,” Seamus fumbled. “Your clothes are all wrinkled, and you haven’t shaved, and your hair is…” He swallowed. “It’s your shoulders, too. They’re sort of, um, hunched? And defeated? I…didn’t know your shoulders could do that.”

I glared at him.

“Right. I’ll just go sit over there,” Seamus said, sliding off his barstool and gesturing vaguely to the tables behind him. He walked away.

I went back to my beer.

Until the steps did a U-turn and approached my end of the bar.

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