Chapter 34

34

MADDIE

D onegal Town is a delightful town in County Donegal, Ireland, and we’re all enjoying pints at McKinney’s, a lively bar in the city center. The pub has low ceilings, cozy brick walls, a wooden bar, and mismatched, quirky tables. Most of all, it’s warm and dry and not swaying a hundred feet above rough ocean waters.

Nor is it a super creepy hole in the ground that’s rumored to be a gateway to hell. We found out we couldn’t actually go to the island it’s on and visit the monastery built above the hole, so we skipped Saoirse’s suggestion for a stop in Donegal.

The lively band of fiddlers is loud and we can barely talk above them. I sip my pint of Guinness and enjoy the lilting music. If I close my eyes, I could be back at O’Brien’s on that first Friday night, the one where I asked Patrick to kiss me in the dark hallway.

The band breaks and much softer music sounds out of the speakers. Patrick and Oliver return with another round of pints and glasses of red wine, and as soon as they’re settled, Reese clears her throat.

“Hey, so Oliver and I have something to tell you guys.”

The rest of us perk up.

“You can’t be pregnant,” Stella says. “Because I’ve seen you drink about a dozen glasses of wine on this trip.”

I laugh at Stella’s joke, but note Reese barely chuckles before biting her lip.

“What, Reese?” I glance quickly at Oliver, then back to my oldest sister.

“This summer, after the wedding, we’re going to move to Scotland to be near Oliver’s son.”

Stella and I both gasp and everyone is quiet for a beat.

“You’ll be so close.” Stella breaks the silence and reaches over to grab Reese’s hand. “A train ride away.”

My insides twist and an array of emotions bleed from my heart. Good for them, just being a train ride away. But where does that leave me? I hate how selfish I feel. I should be supportive. Happy for her.

“Lucas is twelve, and I want to be closer to my son. I’ve been gone for near two years,” Oliver explains.

Patrick is nodding. How dare he be understanding to his friend while my life feels upended once again?

“And Chelsea’s off to college in the fall, so she’s not going to be living at home.” Reese takes Oliver’s hand and squeezes.

I press my lips together and attempt to swallow, but there’s a giant fucking rock in my throat. Everything is changing, and I’m still just me. Maybe I feel like I figured things out, but what if I’ve learned nothing?

“I’m keeping my house as a home base.” Reese turns to me. “And I was hoping you’d live there, Maddie, when you go back to Jersey.”

“Oh,” I say, my stomach dropping at the idea of living in Reese’s house all by myself. “Okay.”

“We’ll come back a lot,” Reese continues, the words pouring out of her, her eyes on me. “To see Mom. And during Chelsea’s school breaks. You’ll have her as a roommate then. We’ll also try to get her to Scotland as much as possible.”

“My old coach from when I was a kid runs a professional women’s football club. He’s been bugging me to get Chelsea to come try out.”

That sounds just perfect for Chelsea. For Reese. And Oliver.

Oliver goes on to tell us about his charming hometown of Stirling, a small city northwest of Edinburgh where Lucas lives with his mother, but I tune them out. I’ve heard him talk about this a hundred times.

For all her talk of me not telling her about breaking up with Blue, going to Ireland, and dropping out of the hospitality program, Reese hadn’t told me or Stella about this huge decision.

Everyone has their own lives, their own plans for the future. Everyone except me. As good as I was feeling earlier, all I have to show for my time here are a few flimsy revelations.

I should’ve been living my life on my terms all along. Not caring what anyone else thinks. Not leaving good jobs because of men.

I make the mistake of looking across the table, and my eyes meet Patrick’s. We stare at each other, as if connected by an unbreakable but hopeless connection, terrifying and impossible, like the swaying bridge earlier today.

The band starts up again and the music is too loud, the pub too crowded, and I need a minute.

I love him. I want him. But I can’t have him.

I stand and head to the restroom, but a hand on my shoulder stops me.

“Mads. The offer to live at the house is real.” It’s Reese, and she wraps her fingers around my biceps and looks right in my eyes.

“You didn’t tell us. Over the last few days, all the time we spent together, all the things we talked about, but you kept this a secret.” It’s a statement of fact.

And I’m kind of mad.

“I’m sorry?—”

Stella appears next to her, hands on her hips, shaking her head. “Really, Reese? You couldn’t have given us a heads up?”

Yes. I’m thankful Stella agrees.

“After all your speeches about me being honest with you,” I say. “And you hid this?”

Reese drops her arms and sighs deeply, fluttering her eyes shut.

“I kept chickening out. I feel like I’m abandoning our family. Leaving Mom behind, and Chelsea, even though she’ll be at college. And you, Maddie. What are we going to do about you?”

A tornado of feelings whips up inside me. It’s jarring to see my confident, settled sister so uncertain.

“I’ll figure it out.” I shrug, doing my best to project nonchalance.

“But—”

“I’m happy for you, Reese.” I cut her off. “For you and Oliver and Chelsea.”

It’s my life, and I gotta figure it out on my own. Without the help of my sisters.

She opens her arms and we all hug in a tight circle, heads down, sniffling. When we finally pull away, they’re both smiling, but I don’t feel like it. Nothing changes for Stella except having a sister on the same continent. And Reese is making all the exciting changes. The right ones for her family. She’s got her daughter and Oliver and Lucas to guide her decisions.

I’ve got no one.

“I need a minute.” I force a smile and duck into the bathroom, leaving my sisters in the hallway.

I lean against the cold, tiled wall and close my eyes.

Why does everyone else get to rewrite the rules of love and life, but I feel all this pressure to conform? Reese and Oliver were an impossible situation. More so even than me and Patrick. They both had children to think about, one on each side of the Atlantic Ocean. Yet here they are, planning their wedding and a huge move, so fucking happy and in love. They’re making it work.

Why is this thing between me and Patrick so impossible, then?

I want him more than I did when I was staying at his cottage, when he rubbed suds of soap into my skin, snuggled with me on his couch, introduced me to Turtle and Kitty, kissed me like I was the only woman on the planet.

I don’t want to run away. I don’t want to get on a plane and only see him once more at the wedding.

I wish I were more like Patrick. He’s got such deep-set roots in Dingle. His parents, Saoirse and Niamh and Erin, his cozy cottage, O’Brien’s, and Slea Head. His sheep.

He belongs to Dingle. He’s not mine to have.

But maybe I owe it to myself to talk to him about everything, before the road trip and wedding are over and we never see each other again.