CHAPTER 15
“See the sand swirling and being pulled out with the waves? That’s the rip current.”
“What happens if I get caught in it, Dad?” The sand under my feet is coarse and rocky. Sailboats with colorful sails glide far off shore. The hum of a powerful engine sings in the background.
“It will pull you away from me. You’ll be so far from shore I won’t be able to get to you. And I can’t lose you, too. If you’re going to play in Lake Erie, promise me you’ll never forget the rip current.”
I reach as if I’m trying to grasp the memory, but it’s as fluid as water through my fingertips. When I think I have it, the memory slips through my grasp.
The water pulls me down, yanking at my body like I’m a ragdoll. The surface eludes me. I can’t tell which way is up and which is down, my body kicking and pulling, unable to find a break from the water. The salt stings my eyes and burns my nose. This isn’t a lake. The ocean makes itself known, where daring to trespass means risking being made a plaything by its waves.
Kieran told me to let fear have its way. Let it wash over you, like an uncontrollable current. Only then can you realize that fear has no power. You can be free.
“It’s not the current that will drown you. It’s the exhaustion from fighting it.”
Through the water, I can practically see the memory play in front of me before it dissolves in the sea.
My only option is to surrender. Stop fighting. It’s actually quite peaceful. To untangle fear and let it drift away. I begin just to float. The water only fights back when threatened, and I’m too tired to fight. I have to let go.
Is this the upside of falling down?
A solid object connects with my feet. Sand and rock. The bottom. Instinct has me pushing off the ground, my arms pulling at the water. I swim, my body moving as if it’s done this a million times before.
My lungs burn and tighten, but as I coast up toward the surface, I know I’ll make it. This is not the end. I won’t let that happen. Within me appears strength like I haven’t experienced before.
My head breaks the surface. Ragged, uneven breaths come one after the other. Salt water stings my eyes as they adjust to the sunlight. Before I even have a second to search for the shore, someone grabs me around the waist, pulling me.
“I’ve got you. Hold on to me.” Kieran hugs me close, pulling me through the waves. I wrap my arms around his neck as tightly as I can, and we kick toward shore.
When Kieran can finally touch the bottom, he scoops me up, detaching the cord that holds my ankle to my board. We collapse on the sand, Kieran still cradling me. He presses his face into my neck and breathes heavily. His hair is wet on my cheek. His arms hold me tightly. The weight of his body—the feel of his chest rising and falling with mine, the proximity, the contact—makes everything disappear. I forget almost drowning. The cold of the ocean has no effect on me. All there is right now is Kieran, covering me like a blanket.
He pulls back slightly, scanning my face. But I want him closer. Always closer. “Are you hurt?”
I shake my head, unable to find words. Kieran moves the hair from my face, his eyes taking me in like he can’t believe I’m alive. We are electric together. The world falls away when he’s with me—the questions and uncertainty—and all I want to know is him. Every inch. His lips aren’t far from mine, and I wonder if people are like food. Do I need to taste him to know him fully? If we kissed, all that he’s made of would be exposed.
“I shouldn’t have made you do it.” Kieran creates more space between us, but that’s not what I need. I feel more alive right now than I’ve felt since I woke up in the hospital.
My hand connects with his cheek. I turn his face toward mine.
“I felt it. I did what you said. I didn’t let fear control me. I was free.”
He looks at me in disbelief, guilt still in his eyes. “Bunny, I thought you drowned.”
“But I didn’t.”
He presses a cold finger to my bottom lip, pausing my breath. He focuses on my mouth, and in Kieran’s eyes, I see what I feel in my heart. We are connected.
“I saw courage,” he says. “That night in the pub when you asked me what I saw in you? It was courage.”
I can’t resist the urge to move closer. This is all I want. Him. Kieran is right—courage is in me. I need to use it. My mouth reaches for his, as if he holds my next breath between his lips, and I need to take it.
But he stops me. He sits back, his cool demeanor in place, leaving me to wonder if I imagined it all.
“You’re turning purple, Bunny. We need to get you dry.”
“Does it match my hair?” I say awkwardly. Kieran lets out a small laugh, and he helps me off the sand.
Our surfboards have washed up on the beach. Kieran wraps me in a towel before going to collect them. As I sit on the sand, he busies himself with returning my board to the rental stand and loading the rest of our gear into the truck. Distance settles between us once again.
When the strength has returned to my legs, I change into my dry clothes. Kieran stands with his back to me, resting against the truck, his attention on the ocean. We switch spots, the carefree guy who only needed a towel now gone. I lean on the hood of the truck, watching the sun dance on the water. Every cloud has disappeared. The day has wholly shifted. What I thought today would be has changed. And I don’t want it to end. For the first time, the veil of fear has lifted, and I’m seeing clearly.
Kieran rolls down the window of the truck. “Hop in, Bunny.”
“How apropos.” I smile and hop like a rabbit to the window. It perks Kieran up, but too quickly that fades.
A restaurant sits a ways down the beach, and I ask if we can get a bite to eat before leaving. Kieran agrees, and we leave the truck parked on the sand.
The restaurant’s picnic tables overlook the beach. I hug my knees to my chest and turn my face up to the sun, letting it warm me to my core. My hair is half-dry, the ends clumping together with salt water.
“You have a tattoo,” Kieran says, drawing my attention back. My bare feet are covered in sand. For the first time, I’d forgotten about it, forgotten to cover it up, forgotten even to care it was there.
I cross my ankles and tuck them under my body. “It was a stupid mistake.” And when I say that, it feels so true. Kieran doesn’t ask me any more about it.
We each get an order of fish-and-chips and a Guinness. The place is quaint and casual. People sit in swimsuits, covered in sand, most of them sun kissed from a day at the beach.
We don’t say much as we sip on our beers. At one point, I purposefully cover my top lip with foam and smile at Kieran. He returns the gesture, but only briefly. A weight is back on his shoulders, his eyes pensive.
“Will you miss it?” he asks eventually.
“Miss what?”
Kieran gestures to my beer. “I hear the Guinness in America doesn’t compare to here. When you go home, do you think you’ll miss it?”
I can’t look at him. “I don’t want to talk about going home.”
“You can’t run away from your life forever, Bunny.”
“Run away or run toward? You said so yourself.” I straighten my posture. “I haven’t even seen Dublin yet.”
We eat in silence. Kieran pokes at his food, only briefly looking at me when I say something, but then returns to dissecting his fish and fries. By the end of the meal, his food is more mutilated than eaten.
When the plates have been cleared, and our pints drained, I ask if we can take a walk on the beach.
“This may be the only time I come to Inch Beach. I want to take it all in.” But I’m just stalling. I want this day to go on forever. Daylight lasts so long here. To sacrifice it driving is unacceptable, not when the ocean sounds so calming, and the sun feels so warm on my skin. Kieran obliges, and after he insists on paying, his penance for almost getting me killed, we walk barefoot down the beach. A distance is kept between us that I can feel. Maybe it’s my fault. I’m the one who’s pulled away to this point. But after today that feels almost impossible.
I purposefully move closer as we walk.
“So you told me about your favorite dare. What’s the one that made you the most afraid?”
Kieran stops and picks up a rock. He examines it.
“Skydiving?” I ask.
Kieran shakes his head, his eyes not meeting mine.
“Spelunking?”
He glances at me sideways now. “You know about spelunking?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” I give him a cocky grin.
Kieran shakes his head. “Not spelunking.”
“Something else with heights?” I prod, but he just keeps his eyes on the rock, turning it around in his hands.
When he finally throws it into the ocean, it lands with a splash. “I haven’t actually done the dare I’m most afraid of.”
“Well, what is it?”
He dusts the sand off his hands, and we walk farther down the beach.
“I promise I won’t tell anyone.” I trail after him, but Kieran doesn’t budge. He picks up the pace. I take two steps to one of his. He doesn’t stop until I touch his arm. My hand stays on his bare skin. “You can trust me.”
It’s not fair of me to say, and the instant it’s out, I regret it. How can Kieran trust me when all I’m feeding him are lies, as justified as I think they are? Lies are a betrayal, no matter how well intended they seem.
Kieran and I notice at the same time that I’m still holding his arm. I pull back, clasping my hands behind my back. How can I ask him to reveal his secrets when I won’t reveal mine?
But he speaks before I have the chance to rescind the question. “Refusing the life that my father insists on. Telling him I don’t want it. That I’m done being blackmailed into loving him. That I want nothing to do with his life or his money. That I’m leaving him behind, just like my mother did, to start a new life. That’s the dare I’m most afraid of—to live the life I choose.” Kieran finally looks at me. “I’m not as strong as you, Bunny. You wanted a different life, and here you are, chasing it. I can’t seem to do that.”
Any thoughts of confessing disappear, pulled out to sea with the sand at our feet.
“I’m not that strong,” I say.
Kieran starts walking again. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
We stay silent, my thoughts juggling between guilt and intrigue. “If you could choose, what would your life be like?”
A wisp of a smirk comes to Kieran’s face. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“I already know you’re crazy. I’ve seen the pictures in your room.”
“If I could do anything”—Kieran turns his attention up to the sky—“I’d fly planes for a living.”
A sinking feeling drops in my stomach. “But you’re afraid of heights.”
“But every day would be a rush. I’d never have to bungee jump again.” Kieran speaks with the excited tone I’ve come to recognize.
“You are crazy.”
Kieran laughs lightly. “It’s only during liftoff that I get nervous. Once I’m in the air, the fear goes away.”
The blissful expression on his face draws me into him more, and I understand. “Freedom,” I say.
“It’ll never happen. My father wants me to go into business. Move to London when I’m done with school. Start at his company so one day I can take over, like a good son should.”
“But they’re your plans. You get to choose.”
Kieran shakes his head. “It’s not that simple. My life is tied to him. I’m a spoiled rich kid, Bunny. Letting that go . . . it’s complicated.”
Kieran’s eyes grow stormy.
“What’s your father like?” I ask.
“He’s exactly what you’d expect—charming, entitled, power hungry.” Kieran glances at me. “He gave Von and me anything we wanted when we were little and then shipped us off to boarding school so we couldn’t see how miserable he made my mum . . .” Kieran pauses, taking a deep breath. “For a long time, I blamed her for leaving us behind without a word. Blamed her for not loving us enough. But now . . . When she left, she knew she’d have nothing. No money. No job. Both her parents were dead, and she had no siblings. I don’t think she wanted that kind of life for Von and me. We had everything. How could she take that away? But she must have been miserable to choose a life with nothing over the life she had.” Kieran shakes his head. “I think she thought we’d be OK. That our dad would change.”
“But that didn’t happen.”
Kieran shakes his head. “You can’t change someone like him.” He stops, the waves lapping at his feet. “In truth, some days I’m afraid I’m like him. We both need a rush to feel alive. His is just a different kind of rush.”
I pull on Kieran’s arm to make him face me. “You are nothing like him. He manipulates people to get what he wants. You help them.”
Kieran’s eyes are unreadable. It’s as if he wants to believe me, but can’t.
“You should tell him,” I say.
“It’s not that simple.”
“It sounds that simple.”
Kieran pulls away and turns back toward the ocean. “The truth is never that simple, Jane.”
A piece of my heart breaks free when he says Jane. He’s only done it a few times, but each instance has reminded me of all the lies I’ve placed on him. He’s right—the truth is never simple.
Kieran’s eyes match the blue of the sparkling water. “I can’t be selfish with my life. I need to think about Siobhan. About her future.”
Kieran doesn’t say the word “baby.” We’ve never talked about it. It’s almost as if Kieran and Siobhan are pretending the baby doesn’t exist, moving through their daily lives like nothing is different. But that can’t last forever. Her belly is growing. Time stops for no one, no matter how unsure we are of the future.
“If agreeing to this life means protecting Siobhan and her future . . . I’ll do it.” There’s intensity, a fortitude, in Kieran’s eyes when he says this, but more is hidden beneath the surface. Why can’t Siobhan take care of herself? Why does he feel obligated to sacrifice his life for her? I’m not sure she would do the same. Whatever has transpired between them is complicated, layered. What he’s revealed to me so far has taken time, and when I push too much, that part of him locks up. I have to be cautious for fear Kieran will shut me out completely.
“What about you, Bunny?” Kieran asks with what feels like a purposeful change of subject. “What do you want to do with your life when you go back to America? Professional surfer, maybe?”
A radiant hue paints Kieran’s skin, like the setting sun is literally kissing his cheeks, and I find I’m jealous of it.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I’m not even sure I want to go back to America.”
“Where do you want to go then?”
“Paris, maybe?” I smile at Kieran. “Open a bakery. Have macaroons all lined up and color coordinated.”
“On Île Saint-Louis, tucked next to an ice cream shop?”
“You’ve been to Paris?”
Kieran nods. “It’s one of my favorite cities.”
“Maybe we should go there.”
He looks out at the ocean. “You’ll leave the rain of Ireland for the wonders of Paris. I can already tell.”
For a time we stand in the sand, our feet covered as the waves wash up on shore. Kieran watches the sun, but I can’t take my eyes off him. Forget Paris. No place could be more wonderful than this.
“Kieran?”
“Yeah, Bunny?”
“I’m not sure what I want, but I think I need more adventure in my life.”
“Need I remind you that today’s adventure almost killed you?”
“But it didn’t.”
Kieran shakes his head. “Just because you ran away for the summer doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go back to your life. This won’t last forever. Ireland gets dreadfully cold and dark in the winter.”
A chill blows off the ocean as the sun starts to disappear on the horizon, sending shivers up my arms. I want to counter Kieran. I don’t know the life I had, but I can’t let go of the way I feel right now.
“You’re cold,” Kieran says. I’m not . . . not when he’s close by. I feel warmth in my chest, like I’m wrapped in contentment. In calm. But my body betrays my heart, and my teeth chatter. “I think it’s time to head back.”
We ride in silence most of the way home. The sky changes color out the window of the truck. I don’t remember what the sunset looks like in Cleveland, but I know I’ll never forget the colors off the coast of Ireland.
When we pull into the driveway of the cottage, the night has turned dark, but Siobhan’s bedroom light is on. I’d forgotten about our run-in earlier today, the sharp words I threw at her. She won’t be happy I’m back, but her concern isn’t mine. Siobhan will have to deal with me, just like I have to deal with her. I stride into the house with more confidence, prepared for a storm, only to find a pile of clothes sitting on my bed with a note on top.
I’m sick of your boring clothes. These don’t fit anyway. You’re welcome.
The sea glass I tried to give her weeks ago is gone from my nightstand. Maybe she has more compassion than I give her credit for. Today has surprised me on multiple levels. This morning, all I thought I had was a sweatshirt and a notebook. But I was wrong. I have so much more than that. Leaving this life is beginning to verge on impossible. I’d set out to find a way home, but what I’m finding is that maybe home isn’t where I thought it was.