The lift doors slid open as I made my way onto our hotel floor, and my stomach lurched. A familiar imposing outline was leaning against my doorframe, shoulder propped, phone pressed to his ear. At the same time, I felt my own phone vibrating in my bag.
“Danny?” My voice came out stunned.
He jolted, caught off guard, thumb fumbling to kill the call. His face was pale, eyes darting like a deer in headlights.
“Can we talk?” he asked, barely meeting my gaze.
“Okay. Come in.” My hand shook a little as I swiped the keycard.
I let him step inside, still tense, still coiled. “Tyler’s at the courts, but he should be back soon.”
“I want to talk to you first,” he grumbled.
“Okay.” I sat on the edge of the sofa, leaving a deliberate gap between us. I wasn’t scared of Danny, not in the slightest but I was still furious with him. Realistically, I knew he felt the same.
He scrubbed a hand down his face, exhaling hard. “Orla…first, I’m sorry. For the way I spoke to you. I shouldn’t have said those things.”
He was damn right he shouldn’t have, but I bit my tongue and only nodded.
“I just…” His jaw tightened. “You caught me at a shitty time, and I didn’t react well. I still don’t like what you did, but…it’s your life. If you’re happy, I’ll have to accept that.”
“Danny, you didn’t even let me explain the other night.” My throat burned. “Yeah, I feel bad about how we did it, but I don’tregret it. Not for a second. We were drunk but I’m not stupid. It wasn’t some mistake. We both wanted it.”
His eyes stayed sharp, but there was a softening there too. “It’s just…you see so much about him, Orla. I’m scared you’ll get caught up in it all and hurt again. I know how cut up you were after Josh.”
I flinched. I hated how easily those old wounds flared. How quickly I slipped back into feeling like the common denominator in every disaster. I knew it was coming from a place of love, he was my big brother after all—and I’d do the same for him—but he really needed to stop treating me like his ‘baby’ sister.
“Danny, he’s nothing like Josh. The media twists everything, but nobody sees him the way I do. He’s not what they make him out to be.”
Danny exhaled, long and hard. “I trust your judgment. And… I’m sorry I hit him. That was really shitty. I wasn’t in a good place that day.”
I smiled faintly. “Yeah, that was pretty shit.” I tilted my head, watching him closely. “So what’s going on, Danny? Talk to me.”
Something flickered across his face. Something wasn’t right. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the world, gaze dropping to his hands as though he had to physically force the words out.
My brows furrowed. Danny was guarded by nature, but I’d never seen him like this, folded inward, stripped of his usual composure. “Something happened in pre-season training. I made it back to the stands, but by the end, I could barely walk.” His voice cracked. “Orla… I’ve ruptured my Achilles. I’m gonna need surgery. This could end it for me.”
My chest caved. I’d seen enough of these injuries to know the truth. At thirty-two, this was serious—potentially career-ending, more often than not. Danny had worked his arse off to get wherehe was. A Lions tour. Ireland caps. A massive club contract. Of course he looked like his world had just collapsed.
The instinct to fix it hit me hard and fast, the way it always did. Because that’s what I did.
I carried people.
“Jesus, Danny, why didn’t you tell me? I’m a bloody physio for Christ’s sake.”
“Because I hadn’t even processed it myself. I’m thirty-two now, Orl. I don’t know how this plays out.”
“Right.” I straightened, already in work mode. “You need surgery. I’ll come to the consultation with you, ask all the right questions. I’ll get you seen quicker. I’ll rehab you myself if I have to.” Another piece of me offered up without hesitation. Another promise I’d have to stretch myself thinner to keep. And still, a part of me worried it wouldn’t be enough.
He cracked the faintest grin. “In between looking after your new husband, you mean?”
I swatted him with a cushion. “Yes. Exactly that.” He was thawing, I could feel it.
The door swung open behind us. A sweaty Tyler stepped in and froze. “Should I brace for another flying fist, or am I safe?”
Danny’s eyes flicked to the blackened bruise around his eye, then away again. He cleared his throat. “No, you’re safe. For now.” He paused, and his voice softened. “But I am sorry. For all of it.”
Tyler let out a breath, shoulders easing. “Look, man, I get it. You’re protective. But just know this: I feel the same about keeping her safe.”
