Ro’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Clodagh is back with her ex.” He drains half his beer in one go.
“Fuck. Are you sure?” I swallow a mouthful of beer, and the cold liquid is soothing going down my throat.
“She told me herself.” He rests his face in his hands, looking glummer than the Grinch on Christmas morning. “I’m such an idiot. You all told me we were moving too fast. Now I’ve sent her running straight back into that dickhead’s arms.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong, Ro.”
“Except fall for the wrong girl,” Jamie unhelpfully adds.
“If you hadn’t met her, you wouldn’t have Emer,” I remind him because he adores his little girl.
“I know. It just hurts that she’d leave and go back to Colin so fast.” A muscle clenches in his jaw. “I don’t want that prick anywhere near my daughter.”
My phone vibrates on the table, and I swipe it up, answering when I see it’s my sister. “You all done?” I ask, wondering if she wrapped her meetings up quicker than planned so she could get here earlier.
“Not yet. I’ve still got two more meetings.”
We have decided to hire a new publicist because we need someone who is completely on the ball to manage our publicity going forward. Dixie is competent enough, but things will get real when the news finally comes out about Easton, and I want the best person on our side. Which is why Ash spoke with Viv’s mum and then lined up preliminary meetings with a few top publicists she put her in contact with. She’ll pick someone suitable, and then we’ll meet with him or her to ensure we can work with the person before we make an official hire.
“So, what’s up?”
“I got a call from Charlotte.”
I instantly straighten in my chair. “What’s wrong?”
“She said someone needs to come over to be with Viv. She’s worried about her state of mind.”
“Did something happen?” I was over there yesterday, and everything was normal. As in, she’s trying to pretend the sexual tension between us isn’t close to combusting and still clinging to Easton like superglue.
“All she said was Vivien was upset and someone should be there for her. Easton is on a sleepover with Lauren and Jon, and my guess is she’s lonely and getting lost in her head.”
“Okay. I’ll go to her.”
“Ring or text me when you get there. I’m concerned.”
“I’ll take care of her.”
We hang up, and I sheepishly face my brother.
“It’s fine,” Ro says before I can say a word. “If Vivien needs you, you should go to her. At least you still have a chance at salvaging your relationship. Mine is dead in the water, and I would give anything to have another chance.”
“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to come back. It sounds like she’s not in a good place.”
Ro stands to let me out of the booth. He pulls me into a hug. “Go take care of your woman, and I’ll see you at Christmas.”
“Give Emer a big hug and kiss from me,” I tell him, slapping him on the back. “I know what it’s like to lose the woman you love, so if you think Clodagh is the one and there’s any chance of getting her back, fight for her. Don’t do what I did.” I’m not sure if I should be encouraging him because I happen to believe Clodagh isn’t the right woman for my brother. He needs someone steadfast, not someone flighty. But I’m not going to be the one to tell him what he should or shouldn’t feel.
Some indecipherable emotion flits briefly across his face. “I’m rooting for you guys,” he chokes out. “I really hope it works out for you.”
“Thanks, bro.” I grab him into another hug. “Take care of yourself.”
I salute Jamie. “Later, fucker.”
“Dillon. Thanks for coming,” Charlotte says, ushering me into the house.
“It’s not a problem. Before I go home, let me give you my number so you can call me directly if you ever need to.” I know Angela has my digits, but Charlotte really should have them too.
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“Where is she?”
Sympathy splays across her face. “She’s been in the nursery for hours.”
Shit. She never goes in there, usually keeping the door locked. “Okay. I know my way.”
I head upstairs with a heavy heart, wondering what I’m going to find. I slow my pace as I approach the door, not wanting to startle her. The door is ajar, and Viv is in the middle of the empty room, flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling as she sings. Two empty wine bottles litter the floor, along with a bunch of used tissues, and she’s clutching a pink blanket to her chest.
She’s singing “She Moved Through the Fair,” and I’m instantly transported back in time. The haunting quality of her voice matches the sadness dripping from the lyrics as the words leave her lips. Listening to her sing this song is painful on several levels, but her grief adds an extra harrowing dimension. I prop my hip against the door frame, listening to the love of my life sing from her soul, wishing I could absorb her pain and erase the silent tears spilling down her cheeks.
Her chest heaves when she finishes, and she hiccups in between sobs. I rap softly on the door so as not to startle her. Sad bloodshot hazel eyes lock on my face as I step into the room. I don’t speak as I walk over to her, dropping onto the floor and sitting cross-legged by her side. “Hey, beautiful.” I brush the moisture off her cheeks as she stares at me with eyes drowning in deep emotion.
“Swans only have one partner for their entire life. Did you know that?” I shake my head, wondering if mention of the swan in the evening in the song has prompted her to share this. “They mate with the same partner until the bond is broken by death or they are preyed upon. They are the purest symbol of true love.” She sits up, still clutching the pink blanket to her chest. “I think we’re swans, Dillon.” She hiccups, and the hint of a smile graces her lips. “Reeve, me, and you.” Her lower lip wobbles, and tears pool in her eyes again. “And Lainey is an angel. They’re both angels now.”
“Was this hers?” I ask, gesturing toward the blanket.
She nods. “I kept it and the little hat she was wearing at the hospital. She was like a doll, Dillon. When I held her, she was like a beautiful sleeping doll. So tiny but so perfect.” Her tortured cries bounce off the walls and stab me straight through the heart. “I don’t want to give her things away. I know it’s selfish. I know there are other babies out there who need her things, but I can’t do it, Dillon. I can’t.”
I move a little closer, terrified to do anything that will spook her. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“Audrey cleared out the room because I couldn’t do it. Everything is in storage, and I’m gonna keep it. Lainey’s little sister will wear her things and sleep in her crib. I think Lainey would like that, don’t you?”
“I think that’s a lovely idea.”
“I have to have hope. Keeping her things gives me hope.” She glances around the room, and her eyes dart to the far wall. “We helped paint that. Me, Reeve, and Easton.”