Chapter 28

28

MADDIE

Thursday, March 27

Boyfriend Disaster #9 : Noah the Heartbreaker

Job Location & Length : Terra Toscana, 2 years

My Age : 32

After one year at Terra Toscana, I was finally promoted to manager.

Noah started shortly after my promotion. He was getting his master’s degree in global sports management and working on the side to help pay bills. He had the most delicious Australian accent. He’d traveled to thirty countries, was six foot four inches, and looked at me with light green eyes like I was the only person in the room. We became close friends. I had it under control. I was a manager now. I hadn’t forgotten the way things went down with Paul. Surely, in my ninth job since dropping out of college, I wouldn’t fall for this hot Australian?

I knew it was a mistake the first time we kissed after meeting up at a bar on our night off. He told me he wasn’t looking for anything serious. That we were friends. He made sure I understood—I nodded like I agreed.

But my heart was already gone.

A month later, he told me he’d been hanging out with a girl in his program. I was devastated. Noah talked about her while he and I were together, like what we were doing was only making dinner and not also hooking up.

She was tall, well-traveled, and so smart. Successful. The exact opposite of me.

I finally made a good decision and told him we couldn’t hook up anymore. I stuck it out for a few more months, determined not to let another man force me to quit a job.

But when Aunt Evelyn passed away and I had the bucket list excuse to leave, I took it so fast. It was time to reimagine my life.

Noah still texts me occasionally, checking in. He now lives in Geneva with that same girl.

Breakup Reason : he found a real girlfriend

My Distress Level : 10

Lesson Learned : I can’t trust myself to tell the difference between a hookup, a friendship, and a boyfriend.

“ Y ou know Reese is going to lose her shit over this, right?” Stella says from across the kitchen table in her flat in North London, through a mouthful of green chicken curry from her favorite Thai food place.

“What part of it?” I moan and appreciate the burning of my red curry as it scorches the taste buds on my tongue. “And also, this is the best Thai food I’ve ever had.” I wipe a tear from below my watering eyes.

“Yup. Welcome to London.” Stella stands and grabs the half-full bottle of red wine from the counter. “More wine?”

“Yes. Definitely more wine.” I’m mostly a beer person, but when I’m around my sisters, the bottles of red come out.

“It’s hard to pinpoint which lie she’ll be most angry about. There are several to choose from.” She pauses, bottle in hand.

“Don’t remind me.” I hold out my glass and Stella pours both of us a generous refill and settles back in her chair.

“It could be the part where you dropped out of your hospitality program because you were upset over a boy named Blue—a guy she warned you against.”

“Ouch.”

“Blue, Maddie. His name was Blue.”

“His name was actually Brian. He’s from Ohio.” I can’t help the smile on my face as I remember Patrick making fun of my latest ex.

“Exactly.” She crinkles her nose.

I laugh at the look on her face. “Sorry we can’t all be blissfully happy with a hot English rugby player.”

“Whatever.” Stella waves her hand around. “Ethan’s alright.”

I stare at her with my jaw open, and when she finally makes eye contact, we crack up.

“Fine, he’s amazing. So?”

I sigh. “And I didn’t quit the program because of Blue. Well, the breakup was the push I needed, but it wasn’t the wrong decision.”

Stella narrows her eyes at me. “Let’s put a pin in that for a minute and finish talking about hot ex-pro athletes.” She swirls her wine, leaving pretty red rings on the sides of the glass. “The other part that might be a bit troublesome to Reese is how you secretly flew to Ireland instead of Saint Lucia and unabashedly stalked Oliver’s best friend.”

I groan. “No, that’s not how it went down at all, I swear. I went to Dingle because... ” Wait. Why did I go there?

“Because...” Stella waits patiently for me to continue.

“I needed an escape. A place where I could regroup without being under Reese’s magnifying glass. I couldn’t stay at her house while I figured this all out.”

“It actually makes sense.” My sister scoops a generous mound of curry onto her spoon and shoves it in her mouth.

“But I swear it was a coincidence that I rented the flat above his pub... and happened to kiss him that first night. I had no idea it was him. I just wanted to make out with a sexy Irish dude.”

“It’s a story for the grandkids, that’s for sure.” She waves her spoon at me.

“There will be no grandkids. It’s totally over.”

Stella drops her utensil in the mostly empty bowl. “Do you really think so?”

“Yeah, I do.” I showed up in London this morning with my giant suitcase and stuffed backpack. I left nothing behind. “It’s no big deal. This was definitely just a holiday fling.” I choke out those last words, my heart screaming at me for lying to Stella.

My sister stares at me, assessing. “Why don’t I invite some of Ethan’s rugby buddies to hang out with us this weekend?”

I can’t help the wince.

“You don’t want to meet hot rugby players.”

“It’s too soon.” Standing, I stack our bowls and head to the kitchen, running water over the dishes. “Patrick is so cute, Stella, you have no idea,” I say over my shoulder.

“Uh-huh.”

I don’t have to look at her to know she’s waiting expectantly for more information. I turn and wipe my hands on a dish towel, nodding toward her comfy couch. She follows me over with the wine glasses. I grab the dwindling bottle and we settle down next to each other.

“I’m just not ready to go make out with some other guy, okay?”

After a pause, she says, “Sure.”

But the look Stella gives me tells me she has a lot more to say on the topic. I’m thankful she bites her tongue. For now.

“You think Reese’ll forgive me?”

“Forgive you?” Stella downs the rest of her wine and refills her own glass, then mine, finishing the bottle. “Girl, you are a thirty-three-year-old woman. You should not be concerned if your older sisters approve of the life choices you are making. Choices that aren’t hurting a soul in this world.”

“I guess.”

“And what about Mom? Are you worried about what she’ll think?”

“Nah. She always just wants me to be happy.”

“And this is making you happy?”

“More like the hospitality program was making me un happy.” I sip my wine, appreciating how it’s relaxing my body inch by inch.

Being in Ireland was something I didn’t know my soul needed. The rain and the cold and the gray clouds were so far from the expectations and perceived judgments I’ve been so afraid of. But now... not being there is what I need.

I think.

“Say more on that, Mads.”

“I’m not meant for school.” I pull my hair over a shoulder with one of my hands. “Or getting a degree. Reese worked her ass off to finish her bachelor’s when Chelsea was a baby. And you have a fancy MBA. But that’s just not me.”

“And that is okay.”

“Is it?”

“Yes! Come on, Maddie. You can make your own decisions. Fuck everyone else. Including me and Reese.” Stella tucks one of her legs underneath her and turns to me, brow furrowed earnestly, wine still in hand.

“I’ve supported myself with all my restaurant jobs,” I say.

“You have. You’ve paid your bills, bought a car—which is presumably parked in Reese’s driveway?—and created a life. It’s not the life that Reese or I have chosen, but look how different she and I are. And no one’s criticizing our choices. Not really, anyway.”

“Hmm,” I murmur, mostly in agreement.

“And if they are, fuck ’em.”

“Fuck them.” I nod.

“That being said... you should probably tell Reese at some point.” Stella slides her wine glass onto the coffee table.

“You sound like Patrick. He kept pushing me to tell you guys.”

“He sounds smart.”

“He is. I’ll tell her. Soon.” I’m not ready for that conversation with my oldest sister. I lean my head back on the couch and close my eyes.

“Those freaking pictures.” Stella shakes her head at me. “They were a little off. When you sent the one with the beer can stuck in the sand at a pure-white beach, I kind of wondered if it was a stock photo. There was a spot in the bottom corner that looked like a watermark.”

“It was.” A hysterical giggle bubbles out of my mouth, and I turn to look at Stella. “I found a bunch of pictures of Saint Lucia online and borrowed them for our text chain. I realized I cropped that one badly as soon as I sent it.”

“Maddie. You’re a hot mess.”

“Right?” I cover my face with one hand. “I should’ve known the advertising executive would know a stock image.”

“And all this time you were a quick flight away. I could’ve come after your sheep incident.” Stella holds out her hand for mine, and I let her examine the faint scar.

“Yeah. It was baaaa d.”

“You did not just say that.”

“I did.”

We burst into laughter, and I shake my head.

“It’s not really a quick journey. Sure, it’s a short flight from Dublin, but Dingle is kind of in the middle of nowhere.” Doing it the second time was much easier, actually. Bus to Tralee, another bus to Killarney, a train to Dublin Heuston station, then a shuttle to the Dublin airport.

Stella suppresses a smile. “It does look like it’s...”

“The edge of the earth?”

A vision appears in my head of standing with Patrick at that breathtaking viewpoint during our Slea Head Drive bike ride, where we could see across the ocean to the Blasket Islands.

That was the edge of the earth.

My stomach twists at the memory, not because it was bad, but because it was amazing. That was when things were growing between us, when I wanted him so badly already. When he let me snuggle into him as the wind ripped around the rocky cliffs. When he pretended to be annoyed by my presence, but really wanted to make sure I was safe.

Turns out, he was right to be worried about me on a bike.

“Why are you smiling, girly?” Stella pokes me with her finger.

“He took such good care of me after my fall, Stella.” I sigh softly and take another drink of wine. My glass is almost empty. “He washed and braided my hair.” I can still feel his fingers massaging my head so gently.

We’re quiet for a minute. I’m lost in the sweet memories of those days.

“Do you love him?”

“What?” I practically gasp hearing it out loud.

“Are you in love with him?” She pins me with her gaze.

“No. No?” I force a laugh, but Stella’s staring at me with her eyebrows raised so high, they might fly off her forehead. I know that look. She does not believe me.

“You. Love. Him.”

I knew I was falling for him when he took care of me at his cottage. Even farther back when we first slept together. I knew I shouldn’t. I fought it. Falling in love is the last thing I went to Ireland to do.

But with Stella’s words, I know. I sit up straight.

I’m in love with Patrick McNulty.

And—oh, crap—it’s so much more than what I’ve felt for any other man, including Paul and Noah and Blue.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“I love him.” I groan loudly.

My sister has the absolute nerve to laugh at me. I throw back the rest of my wine, focusing on the liquid warming my throat and my belly.

The laugh falls off her face when she sees my grimace.

I’m not with Patrick anymore. Was I ever really with him? Realizing I’m in love with the person I’m with would be a beautiful thing. Realizing I’m in love with a person who dumped me and fired me in the same breath? Who’s now in another country?

Awful. Painful. Pointless.

“Aw, Maddie. What a mess. I’m sorry I laughed.”

“It’s okay. It’s so ridiculous, it’s kind of funny.”

“Are you going to go back to Dingle and tell him?”

“No. There would be no point in that.”

“Are you sure?—”

“Yes, I’m sure,” I say, cutting her off. Never in a million years will I tell him.

“But you’ll have to face him in a few weeks.”

“I know.” That’s a problem for future me.

“What do you want to do until then? You are welcome to sleep on our couch.”

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent sure. You can hang out here, explore London, and totally get lost in your own thoughts.” She smirks at me.

I snort. “That’s exactly what I’ll do.”

“I’ll try to bring you back to reality each night.”

“Did I do what I always do somehow? Mess this thing up with him? Hook up with someone at a job I like and then have to leave?” I push my empty glass next to hers on the coffee table and squint my eyes shut.

Stella makes a noncommittal sound.

“I didn’t think I was doing that this time. I knew it was going to end—the job and the man. I thought I had it under control. I didn’t.”

I open my eyes and stare at Stella’s stark white ceiling. Patrick doesn’t know I left Dingle, but Saoirse texted me to say hi last night. I haven’t responded. As soon as I tell her I’m in London, Patrick will find out.

Something tells me he won’t get in touch. He was dead serious about ending things with me.

But it feels like there’s a magnet pulling me back to Ireland. That cold, gray country managed to worm its way into my heart. I miss it. I miss coffee at Dingle Brew, chatting with Saoirse, opening the pub.

Kissing Patrick. Laughing with him.

The thought of not spending any more time there is heartbreaking. At least I’ll see it once more during the road trip.

Stella tilts her head at me. “Another bottle of wine? I’m going to take off tomorrow so I can show you around.”

Tomorrow. My original return flight date. I shake the thought out of my head.

“Then, yes, sister, we should obviously open another bottle of wine.”

I’m staying in London.