Now I have Nolan and Sheena’s attention.
“Oh?” Sheena says. She brushes her bright red hair that looks just like mine out of her pretty eyes and looks to me. She tries to mask her surprise but doesn’t do it well.
Nolan just looks at me curiously. “Have you?”
“Aye,” I say with a sigh. I love it here in Ballyhock. I love my found family here with the McCarthy family. But tonight, I saw the man that I love with his arms around another woman.
I have to get away. I have to make my own way in this world. It’s time for me to become who I’m meant to be, and I can’t do it under the shadow of my older sister or in the presence of a man bent on tearing my heart into little bitty pieces.
“Don’t make this choice because of the scholarship, lass,” Nolan says quietly. “You know we’ll send you anywhere you want.”
And I do, I do know that. I appreciate that the McCarthy family’s generous with their wealth. But a part of me feels if I take this scholarship, I won’t be beholden to them. And that matters to me.
“Thank you, but I’ve made my decision.” They say I’m proud and stubborn, and I don’t deny it.
“Well, then,” Nolan says. “We’ll support you, Fiona.”
Sheena winces.
My throat feels tight, and my eyes water. I nod, unable to say anything at first but a weak, “Thank you.”
“We’ll talk about this in the morning,” Nolan says. “I’ll have to talk to Keenan as well.”
“Thank you,” I repeat, the words so small and inadequate. They’ve done so much for me. “Goodnight.”
I head to my room and shut the door. The click it makes feels like it has an air of finality. A lump forms in my throat and I swallow it down hard, because I will not cry over this. I’ve made a decision. One I hope I don’t regret.
It’s time for me to move away from Ballyhock.
I prepare for bed in a sort of daze. I clean the little makeup I wear off my face, brush my teeth and hair. I stare at myself in the mirror, surprised to see I look older tonight. Maybe it’s because I’ve told Sheena and Nolan it’s time for me to move away. Maybe it’s the pain of seeing Lachlan holding another woman. Or maybe I’m just tired. I sigh.
I look older than my eighteen years, and I wonder at times if I really am older. I’ve lived through so much. I don’t feel like the carefree teenagers I know from school. Aisling talks freely of boys and makeup and her favorite bands.
I don’t care about frivolous things. I care about making solid choices that will help my future. I care about settling down one day with a good man who’ll take care of me, not one looking to get laid. I suppose when you’ve lived like I have, seen what I have, you don’t take second chances lightly. I welcome the responsibilities of adulthood, because bloody hell, I’ve long since shed the frivolity of youth.
I lie down, sleepy from the drinks I had, but wishing I’d had more to really knock me out. My heart is heavy. I lie on my side and close my eyes, and it isn’t until I hear Nolan and Sheena heading to bed that I really let myself feel. That I drop down my guard and let the emotions of the evening swallow me whole.
The lump in my chest and the ache in my heart give way to tears. I face my pillow, bury myself in it, and I finally let myself cry.
I love Lachlan McCarthy. I have loved him since before it was proper, and hell, I’m not sure it’s even proper now. The moment I first laid eyes on him, when I was only a child, something in me whispered one quiet, unbidden word.
Him.
At first, I blamed my teenager hormones, thinking it was only a schoolgirl crush. But bloody hell, that was five years ago, and not a single boy has ever turned my head since.
I love a full-grown man, and he doesn’t love me back.
I can still feel his cold gaze in the garden the night of my party. And I’ll never, never be able to erase the image of him with another woman in his arms from my mind.
I weep until my pillow’s wet with tears, my eyes are swollen, and my head throbs. I hope letting myself cry is like leaching poison from a wound, but it doesn’t work that way. The longer I cry, the heavier my heart feels.
There comes a sort of quiet after a sob fest. I try to rest, but I’m too pent up, too mired in misery to settle my mind and get to sleep. There are no more tears to spend, but it feels as if there’s no hope, either.
I finally sit up and sigh, rubbing my hand across my face. I pick up my phone and text Megan. It’s midnight, and she’s likely in bed. Nolan’s cousin, wife to Clan member Carson, Megan is someone who gets it. Really, truly gets it, unlike Aisling ever will. Until she finally gave into the protection of the Clan, Megan fought it tooth and nail. She hated being trailed by the guard and insisted that her cousins give her freedom.
The Clan won. Now she’s blissfully content being the wife to Carson and stepmother to Carson’s little Breena, and she no longer fights being tucked into the McCarthy Clan fold.
Some of us still find it stifling.
My fingers fly over the keys.
You up?
A moment later, a response comes in.
Megan: Yes but barely, haha. You alright?
I pause before answering. I don’t want her to feel like she has to drop everything for me, not when I really am okay and not endangered. Heartsick is an illness for which perhaps there’s no cure.
I’m okay.
I feel like I should say more, and my fingers travel swiftly over the screen once more, only to erase each message over and over. There was a time when Megan would meet me for a drink or for a walk along the cliffs of Ballyhock, but now that she’s married and has a child she’s responsible for, those days are over. Not to say she wouldn’t drop everything if I truly needed her—hell, they all will, and have. It just doesn’t feel like this is so important I need to rattle her out of her cozy home.
I finally settle for a simple message.
Just couldn’t sleep, and I miss you. Let’s get together soon?
Megan: absolutely! Have you decided about school?
I blink back sudden tears again. Going to Boston takes me away from Megan, too.
Aye. I draw in a deep breath that makes my shoulders rise, then release it. Deflating.
I’ll be taking up the scholarship at Boston University.
This time three beats pass before she responds.
Megan: Ah. Congrats, love!
I can almost hear the pain in her voice. She continues.
It’s a big move, but you’ll have an opportunity of a lifetime. We’ll miss you loads, but you’ll always have a home here with us!
I blink back the damn tears that surface again and smile anyway.
Thank you.
I want to reach out to her. I want to talk to someone about what’s on my heart, but I can’t. I can’t do that to her, not now, when it’s late and she’s got work in the morning, and I need time to process this myself. Aisling wouldn’t understand. Sheena would, but… well, I don’t want to confide in her about Lachlan. I barely want to admit it to myself.
She wishes me goodnight, and I try once more to get some sleep, but it’s useless. Every time I close my eyes, I see another woman in his arms.
I reach for the locket I wear around my neck, his gift to me, and for a moment I think of taking it off. But no. He was my friend when he gave it to me, and tearing it off would be childish and petty. I open it, peer down, and see the younger version of myself. I close my eyes and will myself to be buoyed by the image, but the effort falls flat.