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“You sure?”

“Go, Colin!”

“All right,” Colin said and headed down the hall to the stairs. Niall heard the light tread of his footsteps and then his door closed.

And at last, Niall allowed himself to cry.

There was one thing he had to do before he agreed to Deirdre’s deal.

Niall left the house early the next day, unable to help glancing up toward the cottage. There was no sign of Cordelia. He trudged to the yellow farmhouse, and the look on his mother’s face when she opened the door said it all.

“Who told you,” he asked bluntly.

“Róisín might have stopped by last night.” Fiona gathered her son up into a hug. “Oh, my sweet boy. I don’t understand. What happened? You two were so perfect together.”

“Where’s Da?” Niall said. He didn’t want to talk about Cordelia. He couldn’t. He wanted to close that door in his heart and lock it up tight, never to be opened again.

“He’s in the kitchen,” Fiona said. Niall stalked past her and into the kitchen where his father was frying up some eggs and rashers.

“Róisín told you, then,” Niall said without preamble. His father whirled around.

“Christ, you gave me a fright,” he said. Then he took in his son’s face. “Aye. She told us. Not much in the way of details, though.”

Niall’s throat tightened, the ghost of the iron spring clenching in his chest. “Did she tell you about Deirdre?”

“She said she made you an offer. Something about London?”

Niall sank down at his kitchen table and the whole story spilled out. He’d never been one for heart-to-hearts with his da before, but he needed his father’s perspective. Part of him wanted to tell Deirdre to go fuck herself and march straight back up to the cottage and beg Cordelia to take him back.

“What do I do, Da?” he asked bleakly. “I don’t want to work with Deirdre, but it’s Ritchie Malcolm. I mean—”

“You’ve got to go, son,” Owen replied. He placed a plate in front of Niall and sat at the table with him. Two fried eggs stared up at Niall like yellow eyes. “Cordelia is right about that. You’ve got to go to London.”

Niall stared at his plate. How different this should have been, telling his father he was off to work with Ritchie Malcom. He should be jumping for joy.

“I hate to see you like this,” Owen said. “’Specially when you’re finally getting the chance you deserve. I don’t rightly know why Cordelia said no to ya—I expect that’s her business and not mine. Though I will say I wish she hadn’t. I wish she’d said yes and gone there with you, like you wanted. But it is what it is. This is your moment, Niall.”

“What about O’Connor’s?” Niall said.

“O’Connor’s will be fine,” Owen said. “Your mam only said we needed help to get you home. As I’m sure you guessed. But there will always be a place for you here, Niall. No matter what. And, well …” His face turned pink and he shifted in his chair. “I’m no good at giving relationship advice, but it seems to me that if two people are meant to be together, they’ll find their way back to one another. You aren’t dead, either of you.”

“That was pretty optimistic until the end there, Da.”

Owen chuckled. “I told you, I’m no good at relationship advice. But for now, you’ve got to do what’s best for yourself. Even if it means working with that floozie, as your mam would say.”

Niall’s head sank into his hands. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re right.”

“Well, shite, better note the time and date,” Owen said. “Never thought I’d be hearing those words coming out o’ your mouth.”

Niall gave him a grim smile. “May as well go get this over with,” he said, rising up from the table. Now that the decision was made, he wanted to get out of Inishmore as fast as he could. He wanted to move, move, move so that he wouldn’t have a spare moment to think. Thinking was like quicksand—it would pull him down and drown him.

He borrowed his mother’s car and drove to Kilmurvey House. Deirdre was in the front lounge. She broke into a wide smile when she saw him, then tempered it the slightest bit.

“Good morning,” she said. “Fancy a coffee?”

“I’m in,” Niall said curtly. “When do we leave?”

Cordelia heard from Alison that Niall had left the following day.