I was entirely unsure what he was smiling at, because to me, there was nothing remotely funny about the intense, crackling attraction between us.
What could I possibly tell him about myself?
I’d already told him I was married, but the truth of my situation would send him running for the hills, or to the nearest airport to hop on the first flight back to Ireland.
Those knowing eyes silently coaxed me to open up to him.
So I did.
‘When I was nineteen, my father died. He was sick but it was quite sudden. The grief and guilt were a lot to bear.’ I swallowed thickly.
‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ His velvety voice was solemn.
‘Then a few months later I graduated college and experienced a different type of loss. The loss of the routine, the familiarity of college, and the daily banter with my best friends. Everyone started making plans for the rest of their lives. One by one, they left the city we’d settled in.’
His eyes watched intently as my lips revealed truths that I had never spoken to anyone, not even my best friends. ‘Something about everyone leaving terrified me. Then Rob, my boyfriend at the time, was going to have to leave too. His visa was on the point of expiry. I couldn’t face another loss – of any sort. So, I married him.’
I took another large gulp of my drink, allowing the alcohol to work its magic and take the edge off my newfound nerves.
I had never admitted my reasoning for doing what I did, out loud – not even to myself.
‘And is that a decision you’ve since regretted?’ His head tilted closer towards me, and something like sympathy shone in his sensational eyes.
John’s earnest interest encouraged me to reveal my deepest truths. Knowing he was from a completely different country, that we would more than likely never cross paths again was emancipating. ‘It’s a decision I’ve deliberately never analysed or spoken about with anyone before.’
‘Do you want to talk about it now?’ His warm hand reached out to clasp mine, and the same crackling charge of energy surged between us, its intensity triggering the tiny fine hairs to rise on my arms, along with tell-tale goosebumps.
‘My parents’ divorced when I was a child. I craved stability, strength, and support. Does that make me pathetic?’
‘No.’ He rubs a thumb over his square. ‘It makes you human.’
‘The ironic thing is I’m more than capable of supporting myself. I have a great job and great friends. As a married woman, I’m strangely more independent than I ever was when I was single.’
So used to pretending that my life was a perfect fairy tale, it was liberating to be honest for once. As the words escaped my chest, the weight I’d been subconsciously carrying shifted.
John listened more intently than any therapist might. Never had I been so brutally honest about my situation. Even to myself. It was cathartic, but unnerving.
And it set inevitable wheels in motion.
I could no longer deny the situation needed addressing.
Change loomed ahead, regardless of how much it terrified me.
I figured my magnetic new companion must have some empathy being married himself, no marriage was perfect, even the great ones supposedly needed two people working at it.
So they tell me anyway.
‘Tell me about yourself, John.’ I fired his own question back at him, seeing as he hadn’t run a mile at my deepest, darkest revelations.
‘I’m a farmer.’ His enthusiasm for his job echoed in his words,
‘Seriously?’ It wasn’t what I expected.
‘I have a dairy farm.’
‘I’ve never met a farmer before.’ Out of all my confessions this evening, this was the one that caused him to laugh outrageously.
It seemed our lives were worlds apart, not just in location. He described his family, and his parents’ pub in Ireland.
