“Wait.”
Marie didn’t bother to make small talk as we waited, the air thick with tension. I knew I wasn’t ready for a baby. I had done my first year at university, passed everything with excellent scores. Killian was about to join the marines and although we knew it would be tough to maintain a relationship we were going to see how it went. I wanted to focus on my studies and do better than my brothers. But part of me, the part I barely acknowledged other than when I looked after my siblings or had babysat for neighbours in the village, had fallen for the idea.
Marie hovered over me, her eyes on the stick. “It’s positive, Claire.”
“Oh.” I looked at it. Two blue lines stood out like a sign at a crossroads.
Marie regarded me with kind eyes before enveloping me in a hug. “Let’s go for a walk.”
We did, without talking at first, walking through the fields and the river. It was a glorious day, late summer with bright skies and swallows dancing high. I wondered what Killian was doing now and realised I was crying.
I sat down in the field, long grass surrounding me. Marie sat beside me and let me sob it out and I knew that they were tears of grief because the decision I had to make was as clear as the lines on the test.
“Your father and I will support you whatever you decide,” she said. “And it is your decision. I won’t tell you what I think, because I don’t think anything. Both outcomes are doable for everybody. We love you and we always will.”
I cried harder, staring through bleary eyes at a butterfly passing by on its easy way. I was lucky because she was right. I could choose to keep it and be supported, or to not and no one would judge. A lot of girls in my position did not have that luck.
“I know what I have to do,” I said, calming my chokes.
“You have time to make up your mind.”
“I know. But the longer I leave it the harder it will be to do the right thing. And you know I always act straight away once I’ve made up my mind,” I said, straightening my back and biting my lips to keep the tears from dropping further.
Marie nodded. “Tell me your reasoning.”
“If I was to go through with it, Killian wouldn’t join the marines. He’d want to support me. He’d stop the career he’s always wanted. I would go back to university but obviously things would change,” I said, keeping myself on the facts not the feelings because that was the only way to get through this.
“I’ll book an appointment for you. I want you to remember you can change your mind.”
She did but I didn’t. Throughout the night I thought, watching the clear night sky and the moon hanging there like in a Van Gogh painting. I ignored Killian’s text, needing to fend off the guilt that was starting to gnaw at me and I grieved for the baby we wouldn’t have, thinking of what names we would’ve picked and how much it would’ve been loved but knowing that it was the right, practical call for this moment in time. I only wished this moment was five years in the future, and that whatever deity dished out the shit would save a little bit of sunshine for me in the future.
For the rest of the summer I ignored Killian, eaten up by grief and sadness. He phoned and messaged and emailed but I didn’t respond. The procedure had been straightforward; a pill followed by bad cramps and a heavy period. I locked myself away, read next semester’s textbooks and focused myself on my career.
That was what I had. A career.
And a shit load of guilt.
Chapter Six
Claire
Sleep did not come easy after the evening. By the time we got home it was after midnight; Vanessa was asleep on Jackson’s shoulder; Sophie and Amelie were half sober having opted to spend the last couple of hours drinking water and discussing beauty treatments and weird pedicures; Callum had turned up, refusing to inform anyone on where he’d been, and Max and Nick were discussing rugby. Killian had been quiet, unsurprisingly. He wasn’t the one to be the centre of attention – that was Seph who we had put in a taxi shortly after ten with a plastic carrier bag in case he was sick – and he had been even more quiet after our conversation.
He was more of everything than he had been at university: taller, broader, blonder and the beard made him look like a Viking. A Viking with biceps and tattoos. My body had reacted automatically to him, a stronger reaction than when we were younger and if I had drunk more I would’ve likely offered to let him take me in front of everyone such had been the overwhelming need.
I’d replayed the kiss, which put a serious stop to any sleep and used my fingers to seek relief, fantasizing about slipping into his room and waking him up with my mouth on his cock. I still felt frustrated two orgasms later, my thoughts interchanging between the conversation I needed to have with him and the kiss.
The house was quiet when I went downstairs to seek coffee. I had at least another couple of days here before going into the office to give Killian and Nick a chance to sort out security, during which time I would work remotely, talking to Katie and responding to Dean Lacey’s solicitor who had finally been in touch. I would be busy but being out of the city would allow me some space and a slower pace for a while and I loved being here. It was where I felt safest.
“Morning,” Marie said, breezing into the kitchen wearing her running clothes. “How was yesterday?”
“Successful,” I said. “Vanessa picked a dress and a colour. All the men were measured. Seph didn’t vomit everywhere and Callum returned at the same time as we did despite disappearing for about three hours to god knows where.”
Marie raised her brows. “Standard Callaghan drinking day out then. What’s on your mind?”
I looked at her puzzled. “I’m not that easy to read.”
“Yes, you are,” she said. “It’s seven thirty on a Sunday morning and you’re not hungover or reading in bed so something’s on your mind. Killian?”
