Thug had stayed the night in my spare room and then cleared out the next day, muttering, “The boss will be in touch,” followed by, “You better keep your ass indoors, or he’ll hulk out.”
I made him a coffee to go, and saw him out, and since then, there’d been nothing, no message, no call.
It was crickets.
Pagan was off the grid—well, my grid at least. I tried to get on with my life. I went to work and even went out for dinner with the girls one night after we left the office late, but he didn’t even shoot me a WhatsApp message.
As the days passed, I found myself circling between anger, worry, and apathy. I couldn’t sleep properly and eventually dosed myself up with a box of wine just so I could pass out without my mind shifting into overdrive.
I constantly checked my phone, and found myself zoning out, even at work, when I was supposed to be winding down myjobs and closing all my contracts. Somehow, I got through team meetings and handovers without making too much of a fool of myself, even though my mind was—as my mam would say—away with the fairies.
If I were a normal girl, I would have called my mam or my friends and cried my heart out to them, or obsessed in a group chat about how men were bastards, and I was better off alone. But I felt so stupid; I mean, this was Pagan Sinclair, so what did I expect? He was never going to behave like a normal guy.
The tenth day of radio silence was my last day at work, and after saying my goodbyes to my colleagues and friends, I walked out of the building for the final time with tears in my eyes. All my hours had been signed off, which meant I was an architect. Once my professor graded my reports and signed everything off, it would be official.
It was one of the biggest moments of my life, but there was nobody to tell. A few months ago, my da would’ve been here. He would have driven down and taken me out to a celebratory dinner. Then, after we’d eaten, he would’ve presented me with an outrageously expensive purse because he knew how much I loved them.
But my da was dead.
It was that exact moment I felt the gut punch.
Everyone had told me they’d had it. My brother Callum relayed how he felt it the minute Da died. Mam said that for her, it was the funeral. My other brother, Tadhg, told me he got it when my uncle sang Da’s favorite song, “Danny Boy,” at his wake.
It had hit me three months after his death, when I was at my lowest, and by God, the ache of it almost brought me to my knees. I was supposed to live a whole-assed life without my daddy, and I didn’t know how I was going to do it.
My legs were unsteady as I turned in the direction of my apartment, and that was when I heard the most beautiful sound in the world.
“Coooooooeeeeeeee!”
I closed my eyes and sent up a prayer of thanks, then I swiped at my face and spun around to see the most beautiful sight in the world.
Tristan, Maeve, and my mammy were walking down the street toward me.
My throat burned with emotion as I called, “What are you doing here?”
“We’re here to celebrate!” Maeve called back as they approached me.
My feet moved of their own accord. I broke into a run before throwing myself at my mam, who enveloped me in her love and warmth right there in the street. I felt her hand smooth my hair back, and I burst into tears.
“What is it, love?” she crooned soothingly. “Tell me who upset you and I’ll take a frying pan to them, I will.”
“D-Dad. It j-just hit me,” I whispered, my breath catching from the pain in my chest. “He’s not here.”
“Oh, love,” she whispered, pulling back to touch my cheek. “He’s here, and he’s proud of you.”
A tear tracked down my cheek, and I nodded.
A firm hand landed on my shoulder, and Tristan turned me toward him. “Do we need wine, my glossy, dark-haired beauty?”
I laughed through my tears and nodded again.
“I think we need a bottle,” Maeve interjected, taking my hand.
I took my three favorite people in and murmured, “I’m so glad you’re here. I was about to crash out in the street.”
“Let’s find a restaurant and get settled in for the night,” Tristan suggested, “I have a feeling we have a lot to talk about.”
I let out a loud snort before I deadpanned at him. “Tris. You have no idea.”
