Page 65 of Accidental Irish Daddy

She stares at me, waiting for me to answer with some great response that I guess you’re supposed to say during times like this.

“Nothing to say?” she says finally. “You were all puffed up a second ago when you thought I was a drug addict.”

I swallow, but it doesn’t help. My mouth is a desert. “Aisling…are you sure?”

“Three ‘colored sticks’ can’t be wrong, can they?” She sits up straight suddenly, her eyes cast downward. “You jump to conclusions, and the first thing you want to do is kick me out on my ear. I guess that speaks volumes about our relationship, doesn’t it?”

She gets up and starts walking back up the stairs. “Where are you going? Aisling, we need to talk about this—”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she says.

I follow her up and into her bedroom.

“Be reasonable,” I say as she grabs her suitcase. “You can’t leave without talking to me.”

“You know something?” she says. She’s not looking at me. She goes to her drawers and takes the clothes out and shoves them angrily into the suitcase. “There’s a lot of ways you could have handled finding out about those tests. Even if you did think they were drugs.”

“How was I supposed to know—”

“It doesn’t matter. You got a small bit of information and immediately thought the worst of me.” She stops, turning to me, her eyes filled with hurt and rage. “After everything that’s happened? With me caring for your ma and with me agreeing to stay with you after she passed–tomarryyou even. You actually think I would threaten your sobriety? Jesus, I gave myself to you over and over again because I thought it would help you, and now you think I would go behind your back and snort a fucking line?? Are you completely mad?!”

She’s shouting.

I’m witnessing a fury that I’ve never seen from her before. It’s frankly a little frightening.

“You’re a cruel son of a bitch, Grant Duncan, and I’ll be glad to be done with you once and for all.”

She grabs more of her things and starts shoving them into her suitcase as well.

I can’t let her go. Not like this. It can’t end this way.

“Stop. Dammit, Aisling, stop this! You can’t leave me! I won’t allow it!”

She stops, glaring at me with water standing in her eyes.

“Why not?” she asks earnestly. “Give me one reason to stay with you, Grant. Tell me why you want me here.”

I know why. I canfeelwhy. I want to tell her. To get down on my knees and beg her…

I have never begged anyone. I have never broken myself for any woman in my life.

That part of me holds my tongue and keeps me from saying what I know is true.

“That’s what I thought,” she says. She grabs her bags and pushes past me. “Gidget! Honey, get your clothes together. We’re going over to Martha’s.”

I look back at her as she disappears down the hallway to Bridget’s room.

It only takes her another few minutes to get Bridget ready to go, and as I watch helplessly, the two of them leave by way of the stairs and right out the front door.

A mix of rage and heartbreak swims within me. I can’t go after her. I can’t stay here either.

I go down to my gym to finish my workout, trying to get my head together and my heart in one piece.

20

Aisling

“There, there, dear. Let it all out.”

---