I don’t say much to the lawyer on the drive back. I climbed into the back seats like he was some kind of cabdriver. He looked a bit surprised, but didn’t say much: too much of a professional, I guess. I just couldn’t face him grilling me. I wanna curl up somewhere and lose me inside myself, to go a place nowhere will bother me.

“Nearly there,” he says.

“Great,” I say on autopilot. I don’t really know where we’re going – whether it’s Declan’s or somewhere else. Honestly, I’m shell-shocked. I’m trying to figure out how Declan could have done this to me – and why – but I’m coming up short. The way he looks at me can’t be faked: at least, I don’t think it can. I know he’s not lying when he says he loves me, but that makes all of this so much harder to bear.

“It’s Lawson, by the way. Rick Lawson.”

“Great.”

He doesn’t try again.

The saloon car swings round a dusky street in Dorchester, and row after row of working-class houses flash by in a blur. It’s the Byrne family house, not Declan’s place we’re heading towards. Gentrification hasn’t quite reached this neck of the woods. I like it. The houses feel electric, with families living and eating and praying inside them, not just rows of perfect showrooms.

I get why Declan didn’t tell me about his baby girl, Carla. Well, I think I do, maybe. I know it’s just good practice not to introduce your kids to your new girlfriend. I guess it’s probably doubly so when you paid your girl fifteen grand for four months of her time…

That’s not even really what I’m mad about. I’m mad that he played me; that he is using me for some sick fantasy where he gets one back on the guy fucking his ex.

The car brakes to a halt with the grace of a boat passing over a gentle swell, and the next thing I know, I’m standing outside, then walking up the porch stairs. I don’t know what I’m doing here. It’s just … I’ve nowhere else to go. Vince knows where I live, and I doubt he’s in a forgiving mood, not after what Declan and his brother did.

Rick raps the brass knocker, and I hear a clatter of footsteps on the wooden stairwell just behind the door. I close my eyes, anything to hide from Declan’s piercing, glittering eyes for a second. I know it’s going to be him, standing there when the door opens.

“Casey,” he says. Except – it’s not Declan. It’s Ridley, and he’s got a sober, embarrassed look on his face. I have to blink, because he looks so much like his brother it’s scary – same hair, same multicolored eyes. It’s like seeing a ghost – the spirit of someone I used to trust.

“Ridley, I take it?” I say in a defeated tone.

He reacts like I slapped him. “I –,” he stammers. I’m so used to hearing Declan’s confident baritone that it seems weird to hear such indecision coming from a man who looks so similar. “I need to apologize,” he finally states.

“Apology accepted,” I sigh. I’m not in the mood for some long, drawn out drama. It’s been a long day.

“No. I’m serious,” he says. I get the sense that someone gave him a reaming out. He’s got that child-like, hangdog expression of a man who’s been taken to task. “I said things; unforgivable things. I wasn’t myself.”

He looks at me with anxious, needy eyes. I give him what he wants. Hell, he looks like he means it.

“Is this her?” An elderly woman asks.

I know without anyone needing to tell me that this is Declan’s mother. It’s not just that she’s dressed all in black, like a woman from the old world. It’s clear just from the way she moves that she’s a woman of distinction.

“Ma, this is Casey,” Ridley says. Mrs. Byrne walks towards me unbowed, showing no sign that the pain of her loss is weighing her down. She’s a strong woman. I don’t think I could do the same.

“Shoo, boy,” she says, giving her son a sour look. “Give the girl some space. You too, Rick.” He quails, and disappears into the depths of the old house, the lawyer close behind.

“I’m sorry for your –,” I begin, but the white-haired woman shushes me with her hands.

“Stop with that nonsense, girl. I’m sorry you got dragged into this mess. Believe me, I heard what my son did. Believe me, he paid for that.”

It takes me a second to realize that she’s talking about what Ridley said, not what I’ve now learned about Declan. “Thank you, Mrs. –”

“Mary,” she says with a wave of her hand, “it’s an initiation, entering this family. Believe me – I remember. But if my husband had to depart from us…” A slight clench of her jaw is the only sign of the emotion I know must be roiling her inside. “Then I’m glad you could join us. I see why my boy’s crazy for you.”

“Crazy…” I croak. This is all too much. My head’s spinning. It’s all I want – to be able to love Declan and have him smother me in his – but I can’t. Right now, I hate him and I don’t see how that will ever change.

“He hasn’t stopped talking about you all day. It’s been nice – talking about something other than Seamus.” She stops and cocked her head. “Are you okay, dear?”

“Long day, is all,” I whisper.

Mary brushes a piece of fluff from my shoulder and ushers me into the house in an endearing fashion.

“That Mackey is a real piece of work, isn’t he? I’m sorry about all that unpleasantness. Come – join us for dinner. You look like you could use a good meal. We’re just sitting down.”

She pushes a door open and a buzz of conversation floods out. It rocks me back. It almost feels like a physical blow. The whole family’s there, and people I don’t recognize, too – a broad-chested man with white hair, a college-age kid with the family patch of silver. I guess he must be Declan’s youngest brother. But none of that’s what affects me.

No, what’s got my heart in my mouth, is that this moment – it is what I’ve wanted my whole life. I just wanted to feel I was part of a family. And the worst bit is right now, just as I’ve finally reached the peak of the mountain I’ve been climbing all my life, the rock ledge I am standing on is crumbling underneath me; my fingers are scrabbling for purchase, but I’m slipping.

Everything in my reach is disappearing; the bright future I could almost taste is falling away.

Declan flashes me a smile from the other side of the cramped, wood-lined dining room. He’s deep in conversation with his twin, and there isn’t space for him to make his way to me, even if he tried. I hear a couple of snatches of their conversation amidst the buzz.

“It’s weird,” Kieran grunts. “I’ve got eyes on Micky Morello like you ordered, and he’s partying like he has no idea what is going on.”

“What about Vince? Have you found where he’s –”

"… just a safe house. We’re losing men, Dec. It’s not looking good out –”

“Boys!” Mary cuts across, a fierce glower plastered across her face. “Where are your manners? I thought I taught you better. Since when do we talk business at the table?”

There’s a chorus of: “sorry, ma,” and chagrined faces all around the table.

“Come, let’s eat.”

The spread’s amazing – the more so for the fact it was cooked by a woman who is still deep in mourning. Somehow, though, I don’t taste a morsel. The meal speeds by, but I feel like I’m just drifting through it.

The cutlery is still clinking on a couple of plates, while I’m idly mopping up the last of my stew with a piece of bread, lost in thought, when Mary cuts back in. She’s not said a lot, and I can’t blame her. She’s an incredibly strong woman – I don’t know that I’d be able to do this just a couple of days after losing my lover of four decades. Hell, I’m a mess and I’ve only known Declan a couple of weeks.

“Casey, my dear,” she says, silencing the table. “Are you well? You look a bit… peaked.”

“Sorry,” I quickly reply, aware that every eye’s turned on me. “It’s been a very long day. Honestly, I could use some rest.”

“Declan!” She barks down the table, leaving her son with a caught red-handed expression on his face. “Where are your manners? If you want to keep your hands on a woman like her, you’re going to have to up your game, let me tell you.”

“Sorry, Ma’…”

“It’s not me you should be saying sorry to: it’s Casey. Take her home, will you? The poor girl’s wiped out.”

My cheeks flush with embarrassment. The last thing I want to be is the center of attention: especially with what’s going on in my mind. More than that, the last person I want to be alone with is Declan.

However, I’m not going to cause a scene. It is the last thing I would do: especially now. The Byrnes’ are still in mourning, no matter how well they try and hide it. It would take a coldhearted woman to make this about me. I make my goodbyes, and follow Declan out onto the porch.

“You okay?” he asks me, a look of concern on his face. “You’re awful quiet. I just wanted to give you some time. After what that asshole –”

I can’t contain myself. The anger has been bubbling in my mind all dinner long, and it’s finally curdling over. “Asshole?” I hiss at him, glancing to my left to make sure the front door is firmly closed. “You have got a world of nerve to put this on someone else, Declan Byrne.”

His eyelids widen, and I think realization begins to dawn on his face. “What –?”

I fish out from my back pocket the two printouts Detective Mackey laid on the interrogation room table, and shove them against his chest. Declan looks down, slowly. I get the sense that he knows what I’m mad about – even if he doesn’t know the details. His face is white, ashen with dismay.

“Casey, I –”

“Save it. We’re done, Declan. Oh, I’m yours for however many weeks we have left – but after that? I’m gone. It doesn’t matter where. More fool me for trusting a man like you. For beginning to love –”

“Casey, please – I can explain. I was going to tell you about all this, I promise. I just didn’t know when, I didn’t know how …”

“You know what? I don’t think you can explain. You can’t just wave your hands and make this one go away. It’s too big. We’re over, Declan. There’s no coming back from this.”