“She hates me,” he says, leaning back and crossing his arms. “She made that clear. I don’t know if she ever truly loved me.” He stares forlornly out the window, and I feel the need to say something more. I’m just not sure what. I’ve never been good at this kind of thing. I almost wish Maeve were awake. She’d know what to say.
“Oi,” I say gruffly, trying to grab his attention, but he doesn’t look at me. “Oi,” I say again, firmer this time, and he meets my stare. “She did love you. She loved you and Thadg. None of it was your fault, Orin.There isn’t anything we could have done to stop what had happened. We rang a bell that can’t be unrung.”
“Hmmm, yeah. Okay,” he responds, clearly unconvinced. I start to say something again, but the door at the back of the car slides open abruptly. Maeve startles awake, and Orin clears his throat, straightening in his seat.
“Well, we're here,” Saoirse says as she walks back into the cabin. Ronan follows, a grave look on his face. It doesn’t seem that his efforts to woo her are going very well. I smirk, then glance back at Orin. He looks sad, unsettled.
I’ll have to talk more with him later. Somehow, I’ve got to get it through his head.
It wasn’t his fault.
Chapter 35
Maeve
Ambedo (n) a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details
We step out into the bright sunlight, a stark contrast to the interior of the train with its tinted windows. I’m squinting, trying to locate my sunglasses, only to find them held in front of my face by Callum, a cocky grin stretching across his handsome face. His scruff is becoming more than a five o'clock shadow, and he looks rougher somehow. Rugged. I smile as I grab my sunglasses and slide them on, allowing me to see the Rovers waiting for us.
Saoirse marches over to one of the Rovers and kicks a man out of the driver's seat, commanding him to ride in the other vehicle with a pointed finger. I see another man exiting a different Rover, and Callum steers us toward it. I notice Ronan and Orin sliding into Saoirse’s Rover. I giggle to myself, thinking about how that car ride will be, with only Orin as a mediator. Callum looks at me inquisitively, but I just smile up at him. He opens the door for me, and I slide into my seat. He lingers in the open door, waiting for me to respond, one dark brow raised.
“I’m just thinking about all of the ways Ronan is likely torturing Saoirse right now,” I say with a breathy laugh. He nods with understanding, asmall smirk on his face as he closes my door and heads around to the driver’s side.
“Oh, I don’t envy Orin, that’s for sure. He’ll undoubtedly need some quiet time when we make it to Uncail's,” he says as he’s shaking his head and buckling his seatbelt. I can’t help but stare at him. His eyes are so blue, and he seems at ease, finally, after all of the tension and chaos of the past few days. My head is leaning against the headrest as I watch the smile on his face stay in place effortlessly. He pulls onto the main road and lets go of the steering wheel with one hand and reaches over to intertwine his fingers with mine. It feels right. Like home.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks me, glancing over at me, then back at the road.
“I love you,” I say, and as the words leave me, I know that it’s a confession. A confession that I tried to convince myself was no longer the truth after that party nine years ago. I have always loved him.
“And I love you,” he tells me, kissing the back of my hand. I begin to look through the artwork on his arm now that he has shed his jacket, and I have more than just ambient light to see the details. My fingers follow the lines of the different floral pieces within the abundant ink covering his skin. Different plants look familiar, but I can’t quite place them right away. The plants are both dead and alive, with new buds and wilted petals alike. I trace the letters on his knuckles, and I swear I hear him sigh deeply.
After a relatively short drive, we arrive at our destination. A smile immediately spreads across my face, and I can’t help but get excited. The Mount Congreve Gardens. A place my mother often spoke aboutwhen I was a kid. I can feel my emotions starting to swirl, and I look to Callum, who has a knowing expression on his face. He remembers her stories, too. Of course he does.
I’m completely awestruck as he leads me through the entrance. Even in the fall, the gardens are beautiful. We’re surrounded by vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows. We take our time in every section. I recognize some of the areas from my mother's descriptions alone. I feel closer to her in these moments, and with a pang of sadness, I think,If only she could be here now. My mind starts to wander off, thinking of how things would be so different if she were. How different my father would be.
The air is crisp, the autumn colors are vivid, and the sun is casting a golden glow across the grounds. The breeze is soft, soothing my soul like a song sung just for me. I open my eyes, finding Callum staring at me, peace floating in his ocean blue eyes.
“Come this way,” he says with a small, shy smile. His hand intertwines with mine as he leads me to the last area of our stroll. I hear water rushing in the distance that only grows louder the further we walk. And then I see it.
The Temple. The white stone columns are bright in the sunlight, and the greenish blue dome sitting on top made it simple, and incredibly beautiful.
My mother told me about her engagement to my father, here in this spot. My heart begins to ache, and I place my hand on my chest as we approach it. I can feel the emotion building, like I’m getting back a small piece of her in this moment.
Callum doesn’t speak. As we climb the steps, I place my hand on the white stone. I wonder if my mother had done the same thing, marveling at the beauty of this place. Standing at the edge, I feel Callum place his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply as he wraps his arms around my waist.
“You know this is where my parents got engaged, right?” My voice is small, choked as a tear slips down my cheek, thinking back to the photo next to my jewelry box.
“I remember,” he breathes, and it’s the only sound for a few heartbeats. “I know she isn’t here, and I wish so badly I could change that.”
I place one hand on top of his as the other goes to my chest, feeling the ache of her absence. “I hope she knew how much I loved you when we were kids, and I wish she knew how much that love grew.”
Callum clears his throat. “I only hope thatyouknow, too, Maeve. You’re everything to me. You have always andwillalways be the only constant. You’re… you’re the light in the abyss that pulls me from the depths of my sorrow, even during those years apart,” he says, letting out a shaky breath. “I told you the other day that I won’t let you out of my sight ever again, and I meant that.”
“I know, and—” I start to speak, but he cuts me off.
“Would you hush and let me finish, please? I’m kinda on a roll here,” he teases, squeezing a little tighter. I sniffle with a breathy laugh, waiting for him to go on. “I know things haven’t worked out like we intended. I should have tried harder…”
“Let’s clear something up right now, Callum Egan,” I turn to face, staring into his eyes. “You’re not going to sit here and take all of the blame for what happened between us. It was just as much my fault, if not more so, because I’m a stubbornshyte,” I say with a half-hearted laugh, clutching his shirt in my hands and gently pulling him closer, looking over his handsome face and mapping out every inch. “Don’t, please. You’ve carried it long enough."
