Sweet Days (Four Days Book 2) by A. S. Kelly (2)

piercing, sure, the whole world knows about it and

all he does is keep biting it between his teeth as

sort of a mating call to women, in this case. He

also has something like a nail in his right earlobe

and if you see it up close, it really leaves an

impression. And yet he has his charm.

Sexy and damned.

Old story.

He seems just like one of those bad boys off the

pages of a Harlequin romance, one of those

bastards through and through that drives the poor

stupid woman of the hour crazy before changing

his ways and swearing eternal love and giving her

an engagement ring and marriage proposal no less.

I rest just a second too long on that very unusual

image for me, and yet, it’s magnetic and sensual,

the kind where you can’t sleep at night, and I have

to confess, I haven’t been sleeping very well the

last few nights.

Hormones. That’s it.

I’m usually attracted to different kinds of guys.

Those who dress in a sophisticated way, who are

polite and cultured. The kind that don’t say fuck or

shit as every other word. Guys like Nate for

example. But Patrick is … wow. You surely could

lose a bit of sleep over him.

As I allow myself to drift away in my thoughts

which are anything but innocent, he looks at me

for a second and catches me staring right at him

with that expression of someone who is about to

jump you and tear off all those fucking

unnecessary clothes you’ve got on.

Oh God. Now I’ve become vulgar too.

Hormones, leave this body.

I break eye contact immediately and pretend to

be reading my book, but I can feel his eyes

inspecting me down to the bone.

Red with embarrassment, and my face feeling

hot, I turn outward, trying to distract myself with

what’s going on in the street. However, not much

is going on in Howth, we’re talking about a fishing

village where the highlight of the year is the fried

shrimp festival, but at least there are people

walking quickly in the rain and watching them is

calming for my nerves.

Passing a lot of time with Rain, I’ve learned not

to consider the rain as something so negative; I’d

almost say I like it. I get lost counting the

raindrops hitting the window and I find myself

sighing, as if in a dream, imagining a different me,

a few months from now, intent on coming up with

names and colors to buy new little outfits in.

Happiness was just outside my window…

Someone turns up the volume on the stereo just

when the words seem to delicately caress my life.

But happiness—a little more like knocking …

On your door, and you just let it i

My hands fall unconsciously onto my abdomen

and I find myself hugging someone who is

growing and living inside of me.

And I think sometimes, something that can

make you happy, could turn out to be the last thing

you ever would have expected.

Happiness, The Fray, The Fray

Patrick

What a bad fucking night. I huff and curse and

growl and fight with my eyes. I can’t stand

anyone, I don’t want to see or hear anyone or

anything for a hundred kilometres around because

tonight, I’m telling you, I could really do

something to end up behind bars.

Tonight, I’m biting. And only to kill.

I have this strange tension going on, this mixed

anxiety, half psychotic and half compulsive, that I

could commit a crime.

It was Aaron’s words together with these new

feelings that I didn’t ask to have and that I didn’t

want, but by now they’re here and there’s nothing I

can do to ignore them.

Just like the voice of that stupid little devil that

sits on your shoulder suggesting what you should

do, what things to try and that you shouldn’t listen

to anyone else but him, even if he knows he’s not

in the right and that listening to him would mean

the end, for me and for all those around him.

I’ve made a decision: I have to stop looking for

her when she’s in the pub. I have to stop knocking

on her door to see if she’s all right. I have to stop

watching her, from a distance and in silence, with

the fear that someone else might be able to read

what’s been impressed into my black heart.

I didn’t make this decision because of what

Aaron said. I don’t take orders from anyone. I’m

the one who decided. It’s better for everyone,

before the situation gets out of control.

As I head back to my place behind the counter, I

can sense I’m being watched. I feel naked.

Literally. As if someone were taking x-rays with

their eyes and imagining something that could

never happen.

I turn just in time to catch her in the act, while

she recovers from that dreamy image she had just a

second ago, then she abruptly turns back to her

book.

I blink repeatedly. My throat goes dry. My legs

feel paralyzed and my hands start shaking.

Why am I reacting like this? Why would a

woman’s stare affect me so? I should be used to it

by now.

The problem is it’s not some woman’s stare.

Hell no.

It’s her and her damned hazelnut eyes, so sweet,

so intense and damned good, just like she is.

And me, in contrast to that, I’m anything but

sweet and good and I’m far from anything like

what a man of thirty years old should be. I’m too

old to be living like a teenager who doesn’t give a

shit about anything.

Because now, and I’m damned for it, I’ve found

something that’s important to me.

And I’m terrified.

I care about her and the person who is growing

in her belly, that she happens to be touching in this

moment, almost hugging it.

And then I completely lose my sense of

orientation. I lose control. I lose every single

fucking part of me, because I realize that I’ll never

be anything if I go on being what I always have

been until now.

A man who doesn’t know how to love.

The rain beats down incessantly against the

window, and as I sit here I feel like a fraud, an

imitation of something that has never really

existed.

Happiness damn near destroys you … Breaks

your faith to pieces on the floor.

And this terrible tenderness destroys me, it

breaks me into pieces while it also fills my heart

with something that I don’t know how to contain,

because it’s glued away from my hands passing

through my fingers before I have a second to bring

it to my mouth and taste it.

Then one day, you’ll wake up and she’ll be

home.

I find myself thinking.

And hoping.

I shake my head and grab the first bottle I come

across.

Tequila. Perfect.

I fill the glass and down it in one gulp but it’s

not enough. I pour myself another drink and

another, until my vision starts to cloud over and I

can’t focus on her even if I want to.

But it’s useless, because even if I shut my eyes

and decide not to open them again, I would

continue to see her round face and her smile that

bends your knees and makes you kneel on the

ground.

She will be home

No. It can’t.

It can’t be her.

It mustn’t be her.

Happiness, The Fray, The Fray

8

Erin

“Excuse me…” A girl sitting with her friends calls

my attention as I pass between the tables, picking

up empty glasses.

“Can I bring you something else?” I ask,

smiling at them. Today I’m full of life and in a

good mood.

“We wanted another round of rum-and-coke.”

“You got it, I’ll be right back.”

“Wait!” She blocks me before I can get very far.

“Hey, please, is there a chance that you could

arrange for Patrick to be the one to bring it over?”

she asks me in a whisper and slyly slips a twenty

in my apron pocket.

I look at her in shock without having the

courage to reply. I blush with embarrassment, or

maybe rage. Or maybe both of those things.

She winks at me as if to say, “You got me,

right?” and I nod and remain in my confused

stupor, heading toward the counter where Patrick

and Rain are laughing at one of Ned’s jokes.

“Honey, are you okay? You don’t look…” Rain

says, studying me.

“I’m fine,” I say, unable to hide the

disappointment I feel in this moment. It’s a nice

mixture of jealousy and yearning, because that girl

is hot, she’s not pregnant and because tonight

she’ll be able to bring him back to her home and

sleep in his arms. Well, I don’t think they’ll sleep,

but if I think about what they’ll really do, I’m sure

I wouldn’t be able to contain myself.

“Uh…” I blurt out, “that girl at table fifteen

asked for another round of rum-and-coke for her

and her friends.”

“Sure, I’ll get it ready for you right away,” Rain

says and I can feel Patrick’s eyes on me.

I swallow before finding the courage to look at

him, because for some dark reason, I want him to

see that I don’t approve.

“They want Patrick to bring it to them in

person,” I add, looking at him sideways.

Rain shoots him a look that would impale him

and Patrick turns every shade of red before being

able to articulate his response.

“Liam will bring it to them,” he says looking

around, trying to find him.

I pull out the money from my apron and throw

it on the counter in disgust.

“She gave me twenty euros to make sure you

got the message,” I say, feeling my courage grow

within me.

“You can give it back to her, I don’t want to be

anybody’s bootlicker,” I conclude, raising my

head, straightening my shoulders and faking a self

confidence that I do not feel in this moment, but

that I must show whatever be the cost.

Patrick is silent for a moment with his eyes

fixed on the bill; I turn and go back to the dining

area before tears can start burning my eyes. I pass

by the tables as if nothing has happened,

continuing to sniffle and drying myself with my

sleeve before my tears get plastered onto my

cheeks.

I feel humiliated and I don’t know if it’s right

that I should. I also feel like I’ve been made fun of,

and again, I’m not sure it’s the right emotion for

this situation.

It’s just when it comes to Patrick, I seem to run

through the entire scale of human emotions in a

few seconds. It’s an emotional elevator that leaves

me insecure and unhappy.

This is the effect he has on me and I can’t

permit him to have this control over my emotions

and my life. And if I don’t want to feel this way

anymore, there’s only one thing to do.

I can’t let him get any closer to me.

Patrick

I continue to look at that twenty left on the counter

by Erin. Rain is standing next to me, not talking. I

can feel her disapproval, even if she doesn’t say a

word because I know her, and I know that she is

ordering me to do something right now, and I can’t

say she’s wrong.

I’m the one who creates this kind of situation,

because I’m the one who always lets women know

that I’m available. And it’s never bothered me

before, not until now. Not until I saw Erin’s

expression as she threw down the money in disgust

—money she earned by helping a cheap tart get

her hands on me.

I don’t want anyone to get their hands on me.

I don’t want anyone that isn’t her to put their

hands on me.

And in the moment this thought slaps me in the

face, and I feel my anger rising to my temples.

I take the bill, I jump over the counter into the

bar area, which is not being very sensitive to Ned,

who was calmly drinking his beer, not expecting

me to leap down beside him.

With a sudden feeling of fury, I go to the table

where the girl is, and I can feel all eyes in the

house on me.

Including hers.

“I’m not your personal barman, or your little

plaything,” I tell the girl who was after me. “Don’t

you dare ever try asking one of my workers to do

anything like that again. She’s not for sale and

neither am I!” I say, slapping the money down in

front of her. “And now, I think it’s better if you go.

And don’t come back.”

I turn around and go back towards the counter,

where I see Rain with puffy eyes that are full of

tears. She’s waiting for me, triumphant in her

pride. As soon as I get near her she throws her

arms around my neck and kisses my cheek.

“This is the Patrick I’ve always hoped to see. I

knew it was hidden in there somewhere,” she says,

pointing at my heart. “And now,” she lowers her

voice, “go to her.”

Rain is the best person I’ve ever known in my

life. Really, she is the best, the sweetest, the most

sincere person I’ve ever known, both before and

after her terrible accident. She is without any kind

of guile or artifice, and is completely pure and

direct. She looks at you with those big green eyes

and tells you what she needs to and then, if her

words take you apart, she puts you back together

again. She throws reality right in your face, laid

bare and raw, and she’s also honest enough to let

you know when you’re a hopeless asshole.

I smile at her and give her a kiss before going

towards the back room. I can hear Erin in there

sobbing in the distance, even from the outside with

the door closed. I run to her, throw open the door

and find her standing out in the rain, teeth

chattering and shaking from the cold.

“Erin … what the heck?”

Her eyes are my downfall.

Swollen, deep and drowning in tears.

In a second I fall apart. I’m in a million little

pieces that intermingle with the falling hail.

My convictions, my fears, my never-ending

bullshit.

Everything breaks.

I break myself.

And I don’t want to be put back together,

because if being broken down this badly is what it

takes to finally see what you’ve tried to hide from

sight and from your heart for thirty years, then I

don’t give a fuck about being reduced to a million

pieces. I could stay like this forever. I could be just

air, as long as it’s her air, her oxygen, and I could

be the one that allows her to breathe and to live.

Because now I have a goal.

Now something is important to me.

Someone.

Now she is important to me.

9

Erin

After watching the scene Patrick created, I can’t

stand to be there anymore and run away like a

baby in front of a horror film, taking refuge at the

back of the pub. I start sobbing so hard that I’m

afraid someone will hear me in there, and so in a

moment of confusion, I open the door and close it

behind me, forgetting that from the outside, I’m

locked out. I stay there, in the freezing cold, with

no coat on and stand under the hail that hits me

without pity, hitting me, like it wants to slap me,

like it wants to really hit home this idea: that

Patrick is not the one for me.

I cover my face with my hands as I start to

shiver in the cold, without being able to calm my

cries and unable to avoid shattering like a glass left

to crash into a million splinters on the pavement.

And then the door slams open.

And he’s here.

He’s worried, and scared and desperate.

He’s absolutely perfect.

He looks at me and in a heartbeat all the pieces

come back together and I can breathe again, as if

he were the air passing through my lungs.

“I … I’m sorry,” he yells, trying to drown out

the sound of the hail.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I yell back.

He takes a step forward.

“It is. I allowed all of this to happen. I

established a reputation that meant that trashy girls

like that would come here looking for me. I made

it so that everyone believed that I am the dickhead

that I really am. That you would think it too.”

“And you are,” I say, moving my wet hair from

my eyes.

“I am.” He smiles bitterly. “But I don’t want to

be like that any more.”

“No?” I ask with a pained voice and a bit of

hope brushing up against my heart.

“No I don’t. But I’ll need your help,” he says,

taking another step closer to me. “I need you to

help me to be a better person.”

“M-me? Why me?”

Another step closer and his forehead is touching

mine. It caresses my face and I close my eyes to let

his touch imprint itself in my mind.

“Because with you, Erin, I feel I can be …

different. I can be myself. I feel that I can finally

be a man.”

Patrick

We go back into the pub as I support her with an

arm. She’s shivering and pale and seems just about

ready to faint. She’s freezing, having been standing

in the freezing rain and is completely distraught

because of me. She’s barely able to put one foot in

front of the other. So I pick her up and carry her to

the door of her apartment. She doesn’t protest, she

doesn’t say anything, she simply rests her head on

my chest and by doing so she stops me feeling

cold and shaky, because this contact warms my

body and heats up my cold heart.

I climb the stairs slowly, afraid I might drop her;

I open the door and go straight to the bathroom.

She needs a hot bath, right away, so she can relax.

I make her sit on the edge of the tub as I turn the

water on.

“What are you doing?” she asks me in

confusion.

“You need to warm up,” I tell her, kneeling

down to undo her shoelaces.

“Patrick…” she says, trying to object, but I’m

taking no notice. I’m here now, and I’m taking

care of her.

“I can do it by myself. And you need to dry off

and warm up too.”

I shake my head, signaling that she is all I care

about, and continue to undress her.

“Patrick, really.” She looks at me. “I’ll do it

alone. Thank you, but I’m okay to carry on by

myself now.”

I get up and reluctantly leave the bathroom,

closing the door. “I’m here if you need me.”

I go in the kitchen and put on the kettle. I take a

cup from the cupboard and prepare her a scalding

hot cup of tea with plenty of milk. I wouldn’t want

the caffeine to stir her up too much.

After a few minutes I decide to knock on the

bathroom door. “May I come in?” I ask before

entering.

The sight of her naked shoulders that are visible

above the water full of bubbles is paralyzing. I

catch my breath and quiver like a virgin schoolboy

that’s never seen a piece of nude female skin from

this close.

I swallow hard, more than once, and put my

other hand on the cup so as to stop it trembling

from the emotions I’m feeling. Then, I slowly get

near the tub as she continues to ‘give me the

shoulder’, as it were. She doesn’t emit a sound.

“Erin?” I call her quietly before moving forward

so I can look her in the face.

She’s curled up in the tub, hugging her legs

against her chest, and is crying mutely. As she goes

on not moving, not speaking, her shoulders quiver

just slightly.

I set the tea down on the edge of the tub and

kneel down. She remains still, not talking.

With my heart in my shoes and my hands that

won’t stop shaking, I brush her arm ever so softly,

and the contact with her wet skin makes me

instantly crazy with longing.

I am completely screwed.

“Is … is everything alright?”

No answer.

“Honey…” I say in a moment of brain damage.

“Please, talk to me.”

So she turns slowly with her head still resting

on her knees. Her eyes are tired and swollen and

I’d like to cut off one of my own testicles for

having been the idiot responsible for all this upset.

I slowly brush her face, as if touching her again

might kill me on the spot. It’s so slight, and she

might not even notice I’m doing it. I cock my head

and study her, trying to understand what might

make her feel better.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she says in a whisper.

“What are you doing here, Patrick? Why don’t you

leave me alone?” she says, raising her voice.

“You want me to go? You want me to leave you

in peace? Would that make you feel better?” I

jump to my feet, hurt by her words.

“I just want you to explain to me why you’re

here with me.”

How am I supposed to answer her? Because I

can’t do anything other than be here? That my

stupid fucking heart decided to start working and it

made me choose her?

In the end, I tell her the truth. “I know that I

can’t avoid it. I can’t stay away from you even if I

understand that I shouldn’t be close to you. It’s

difficult to explain.”

“What’s wrong with you, Patrick?”

“Wha… what?” I ask, terrified by her question.

“When did you become like this? There has to

be a reason, a cause … What turned you into the

asshole that you are?”

If she could have punched me full-on right in

the chest, it would have hurt less. After having told

her all those things … What a fucking idiot I’ve

been. I sure know how to be a dog’s ass.

I turn and go without saying anything because I

have nothing left to say.

This is who I am, I always have been like this

and I will continue to be. It’s useless trying to

force yourself into being something you’re not.

I don’t want to be analyzed; I don’t want to be

pitied.

I don’t want a fucking thing.

10

Erin

I get out of the tub immediately and let the water

fall to the floor. I look around and all I can find is a

miserable towel. I wrap myself up in it the best I

can, dripping all over the apartment, running after

Patrick. Why am I doing it? Why? I just don’t

know.

“Patrick!” I yell before he can walk out the

door.

He stops in his tracks but does not turn around.

“Please, don’t go.”

“This is not my place, Erin.”

I bite my lip and try to breathe deeply to quell

the urge I have to cry.

“You don’t need me,” he adds with a voice so

thick with desperation that I’m tempted to throw

myself at him and hold him until daybreak comes.

I slowly go to him, still barefoot, and I’m

careful not to slip. I touch him lightly on the

shoulder—he’s still soaking wet—and I can feel

him tense up at my touch. So I remove my hand

and take two steps backwards, feeling my eyes

swell up with tears mercilessly.

“No one needs me.” His voice is broken.

This time it’s my turn to be courageous. I put

my hand on his back and squeeze it hard so as to

let him feel my support.

“Patrick…” I try to get closer to him, in any

way I can. “I’m sorry for the things I said. I was

confused and feeling out of sorts and—”

“I’m not the right type for you. I’m not the right

type for anyone. I’m not able to stay emotionally

close to a person. I’m a selfish asshole and I

always have been.”

“I know,” I tell him, caressing his bearded face

slowly. At my touch he pulls away sharply.

“Stay away from me, Erin. Please. I can’t … I

can’t be what you need me to be. I’m not that kind

of man, don’t you understand that? I’m not even a

man.”

His words break my heart.

“See, I don’t want to hurt anybody,” he goes on.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

I lower my glance and let the tears flow, for by

now, there’s no point holding in my feelings.

“I’ve already done it once,” Patrick continues.

“I can’t allow it to happen again.”

“What? What are you…” I don’t have the

courage to finish the question, to listen to what he

has to say.

He sighs in frustration and rubs his eyes with

his fists.

“I was eighteen and she was seventeen…” he

starts to tell me as I try to swallow something that

is straining my throat. “It happened. We weren’t

careful. I wasn’t careful.”

“You were young...”

He shakes his head vigorously.

“I was just a jerk, selfish. I didn’t want the

responsibility, and she knew it.”

“And she?” Good lord, I can’t even spit it out.

To tell the truth, it’s hard to talk at all.

Everything’s happening so quickly here with all

these events pulsing through my heart it seems like

it’s all going to end up in my throat and choke me.

“I’ve always been a jerk, but I never would

have abandoned her, believe me,” he says, finally

looking at me and his eyes are full of pain, deep

and real pain.

“I believe you.”

“She already made the decision for both of us.

She told me it was too late. Her mother took her to

Liverpool and…” A hiccup escapes his lips and my

heart shatters in a million pieces. “She told me that

she could never trust a selfish asshole like me,

because the only thing I’m good for is swinging on

every side. She told me I wasn’t worth anything,

that I would always be a hopeless bastard because

I’m incapable of love, of feeling any real sentiment

and taking on any significant responsibility. I

ruined her life and I’ve never forgiven myself for

it.”

“Patrick.” I step closer because I want to hold

him close to me. Because I want him to feel my

heart that is suffering together with his. I want him

to feel that I believe him.

“Don’t do it, okay? Don’t feel sorry for me. And

don’t get close to me, Erin, I beg you. I’d only hurt

you. I ruin everything I touch. I don’t want to

destroy you too.”

“You aren’t what you think you are, Patrick.

Otherwise you wouldn’t be worried about hurting

anyone, because no one would be important for

you. If you were really like that, you wouldn’t try

to help your family or your friends and most of all,

you wouldn’t try to help me.”

He shakes his head again, this time determined

to go.

“Don’t you see, Patrick? You wouldn’t care

about a baby that isn’t yours if you weren’t a better

person that you think you are.” I try to convince

him.

“I do care, Erin. About him and about you. I

shouldn’t care so much, but I do. I care more than

my fucking life.” He concludes before running

down the stairs, leaving me with the fear and hope

that behind his words there’s something there that

he doesn’t have the strength to show me.

Something that I’d like to touch and hold.

Something to handle with care because it could

explode in my hands.

Patrick

“Are you ready, man?”

Jay comes close to me giving me a pat on the

back, which I instinctively jerk away from.

“What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong?

Rain and Erin have been back for two hours and

I’ve been trying to keep my distance and not even

look at her. I know there was another appointment

with the gynecologist, Rain told me about it, but

after the other night, I don’t have the courage even

to look at her. I’m afraid of seeing pity or

compassion in her eyes or worse yet, disrespect.

After my stupid confession I went away to

avoid facing the argument, being analyzed or to

stop giving her false hope, by making her believe

that there is something behind this facade of mine

to grab onto. I don’t want her to get it into her head

that she can save me or fix me, that I’m able to

change. That she might think I’m capable of

loving. I’d like to ask her how her appointment

went, what the doctor said. I’d like to … ah, shit.

I’m losing control. I can’t let it happen. I can’t let

myself be dragged into something so big and so far

from me and what I have always been.

“Nothing. I’m just agitated,” I reply to Jay’s

question, asking me what’s wrong.

“No one to pass the time with after work?” he

asks facing me head on, making fun of me.

Someone to spend a bit of time with?

There are at least five people here tonight who

are worth noticing, but only one that means

anything to me. And she’s not among the five I just

mentioned.

I jump on stage against my will, for tonight I’m

not able to concentrate on anything, I’ve managed

to break four glasses. What the hell. I need to calm

down.

I grab the bass guitar briskly and slip the strap

around my shoulder, keeping my eyes low so as

not to get lost in her eyes and in her fears.

Liam starts singing and in less than ten seconds

I’m cursing this fucking song, the words and my

tormented soul, because it’s impossible for me not

to think of every word that comes out of his mouth

and imagine them laying right on her skin.

I play like there was no tomorrow, mistreating

the bass lines, which are not at fault. The only one

with any fault around here is me. The only asshole

in this place is me. I’m letting myself get all

tangled up in emotions, emotions that I didn’t

think I was capable of feeling until she cried on

my shoulder. Until I felt her hot tears trespass

down onto my chest and dissect my arid heart.

And so I raise my head just as Liam sings the

words: Say the word and I will be your man, your

man.

Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me?

What happened to my self-control and my dignity?

Up here on this stage, in this dump of a place in

this stupid fucking village, screaming with my

heart out of my chest every word that I thought I

could never say in my life.

Two dark scared eyes were enough for me,

coupled as they were with a warm, reassuring

smile and her clear jaunty face. And her closeness,

her tears, her sweetness. Just a few things were

enough for me to realize that I don’t understand

anything about life, that I’ve probably buried it

inside me somewhere, it’s in some kind of deep

ditch at least ten meters down, where all dark souls

like mine go to be buried in a common grave.

And for what? Why would I have done this? To

distance myself from any idea of responsibility, the

possibility to love. To escape from life itself and

hide from myself and from the world.

And what’s it all been for?

Thirty years thrown down the toilet for a pair of

deep sweet eyes. Because that’s what she is, she’s

sincere, and naive, and … because she is who she

is.

The song ends and we go straight into the next

number, but Erin isn’t there anymore, she ran out

in tears, leaving Rain speechless standing there.

And leaving me without a piece of my heart.

11

Erin

It’s Thursday evening and the guys are ready to

play a few songs. They do it every Thursday night,

because there’s enough people there to listen to

them but not so many that they’re needed behind

the counter or waiting tables.

Patrick is in a bad mood and has been avoiding

me all night and has been growling at everyone

else including friends and clients.

I didn’t have the courage to get close; I

understand that telling me those things must have

shaken him. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting it. I

didn’t think Patrick was capable of holding such a

burden inside him.

I thought, like everyone else does, that he was

just a jerk. Instead, he’s a man who’s been hurt and

is disappointed with life. A man nobody ever gave

a chance to, because no one ever opened their

hearts to him.

A man no one ever knew how to love.

There you go: I absolutely shouldn’t care at all

about him, his feelings and what he’s been

carrying around with him or the fact that he

continues to make eyes at every woman on the

planet.

Every woman except me.

It’s never bothered me in the past, but now I just

feel differently. It would bother me to see him go

home with some woman now.

What the heck am I thinking? I must be crazy,

completely taken over by my hormones. The truth

is I’m alone and I need a man next to me that will

help and comfort me, but I know very well that it

cannot be him.

Let’s get it straight: we’re talking about Patrick,

a guy who’s genetically opposed to feelings and

who has refused to enter into every type of bond or

relationship.

A man who has given up on love.

How can it be that two caresses and two words

of comfort would be enough to throw me into total

confusion like this? To forget Nate and everything

we shared?

The problem is that it’s enough for me just to

get lost in the black hole of his eyes to forget every

caress, every kiss, every night I spent with Nate,

and to think of how it could be if Patrick wasn’t a

certified asshole who was disappointed with life

and if I wasn’t pregnant by my ex.

I shake my head and pick up some glasses from

the tables when the guys start their initial song. At

Liam’s first words I start to shake and set the tray

down on another table before everything falls to

the ground.

Say the word and I will be your man, your man.

I breathe in slowly to gain control of my

emotions, but it seems like I’m not the one in

control, they just do whatever they want.

Say when… And my own two hands will comfort

you … Tonight, tonight … Say when … And my

own two arms will carry you … Tonight, tonight

I can’t look at him; I can’t raise my glance right

now because he’d understand immediately what

I’m thinking.

I’m stupid and misguided.

Say When, The Fray, The Fray

I got dumped for another woman, I’m pregnant

and what do I do? I’m surprised to feel desire … to

hope what? That he would be interested in me? A

girl who is about to have someone else’s baby?

And then we’re talking about this guy.

Come on Erin, don’t be an idiot.

Maybe he’s already got his eye on someone for

tonight.

And yet, he looked at me. He lifted his splendid

black eyes and I got lost, surrounded by the

devastating warmth they emit.

I break the short contact by turning away and

squeezing my eyes tightly shut. Rain comes

towards me to ask if everything is all right, and I

give her a quick nod to reassure her, but I know

she’s not buying it.

I get out of there as fast as I can, going straight

towards the back. I open the door that leads to my

temporary apartment and run up as the last notes of

the songs keeps time with my tears. I throw myself

on my bed, hiding my head in my pillow, trying to

suffocate my sobs.

My life is already complicated enough as it is, I

don’t need to add any fuel to the fire.

And yet … and yet, he looked at me, not the

others. For once, I felt like I was the center of his

world and the very idea completely terrified me,

because I know him, I know who he is and how he

reacts.

And even if I know that in reality he’s just a

man with a broken heart, I know I’m not the one

for him, just as I know he’s not at all what I need.

Not now, not in the future.

Patrick

As the night ends, it would appear that the brunette

who is all eyes and lips is waiting for me outside

the pub. We both know full well how it’s going to

end up: few words, no complications. That’s what

I need.

I say goodnight to the guys and head toward the

door when Rain grabs my arm.

“You don’t have to do it, Patrick.”

“Do what?”

“You don’t have to pretend with me, with us.

We’re your family, you can just be yourself.”

“I am myself, Rain,” I say with a half smile, not

sure where she’s going with this.

“Sure, honey, of course, if it makes you feel

better, you can tell yourself that.”

I start getting nervous and divert my glance. I

don’t want to tell her to fuck off, but I’m getting

pretty close.

“I don’t know what you think you saw or

understood, but I assure you that—”

“When you’re ready,” she interrupts me, “you’ll

see it for yourself. Things don’t always turn out

badly, you know? Love is a sacrifice, it means you

gotta lay your cards down and give to the other

person, but Patrick, what you get in return is

priceless,” she concludes, giving me a kiss on the

cheek and turns away from me, going back to the

others, leaving me like a big fucking asshole

standing in the middle of a room halfway between

two doors: one leads to the upstairs apartment and

the other one leads to the bar exit.

I shake my head and take a step forward, toward

the front door and then stop again. I look down

angrily, clenching my fists.

You don’t have to do it, Patrick, I tell myself.

You’re not obligated to.

The guys are waiting for me near the door.

“You go ahead, I’ll close up,” I say, avoiding

looking at Rain’s satisfied smile.

~ ~ ~

I wasn’t able to be away from her for even twenty-

four hours. I can’t put the brakes on this instinct I

have to be next to her, to make sure she’s all right.

I have a growing and frightening need to protect

her and take care of her.

Slowly, I climb the stairs, hoping and praying

that she’s sleeping, that she’s locked the door and

that she doesn’t hear me knock.

Please, let her refuse my help.

The music coming from inside tells me it’s not

my lucky night.

I knock on the door but I can see it isn’t locked,

so I push it and take a deep breath, asking my

lungs to fill themselves because the sight of her

takes away both my breath and my certainty.

Erin is tidying up the living room. She’s

wearing a pair of sweatpants low on her waist so

that you can see the first signs of her pregnancy. A

faded T-shirt that just covers her rounded belly, her

hair is short, pulled back into an improvised

ponytail that’s not doing its job very well.

She’s singing and moving as if she were

following some dance moves, light and sensual as

I feel one of the pillars of my dignity falling.

I observe her, completely enraptured by this

young woman whose future is all-uphill, but who

has a smile on her face that would placate even a

bear like me.

So I’m surprised to see you with my eyes, the

stereo says, and I swallow my pride hard.

It’s nice to meet you… Nice to meet you

And it’s the first time my eyes have really seen

her, that they fall upon her sincerely and only

because they want to be filled with her light and

her grace. I look at her as if I were meeting her

now, as if I hadn’t seen her four nights a week for

the last year.

As if I were seeing her for the first time.

And yet, it’s still her, Erin, the girl who works at

the pub. Rain’s friend. The girl who got pregnant

by some bastard who left her for someone else.

Nice to Meet You, The Reign of Kindo, Rhythm, Chord & Melody

The girl I never thought I would meet, never

could imagine that I would caress.

The girl that is destroying all of my barriers and

bringing away every piece of me.

12

Erin

“Jesus, Patrick, you scared the shit out of me!

What are you doing here?”

“Sorry, I tried knocking, but the music was too

loud and the door was open, so … I just wanted to

know how you are.”

“Don’t you have anything else to do, huh?” I sit

down, feeling stupid for being jealous.

He doesn’t answer, but comes towards me

slowly, sending all of my senses tilting.

“What!” I ask, just about to explode.

Stupid hormones.

“How’d it go today?”

“Well, you were there too it seems.”

“I’m referring to the medical exam. What did

the doctor tell you?”

“Why are you so interested, Patrick? I mean, I

am thankful for your help and everything, but you

don’t have any obligation to look after me. Don’t

feel like you’ve got to miss out on any dates

because of me.”

“Who told you I had a date?”

He thinks I’m an idiot.

I go to the window where you can see the street

below and pull back the curtain. “Because your

date is down there waiting for you.”

He goes to the window and takes a look. “Well,

I don’t have any dates, not with her or anyone

else.”

“Doesn’t seem like she’s aware of that,” I say,

giving the girl a hard stare.

“I don’t have any date.”

“You don’t need to justify yourself, Patrick. You

have no obligations with me, you’re not the one

who got me pregnant!” I yell, falling into a

hysterical crisis.

I immediately regret my words.

He seems resentful. In his eyes I see anger and

… pain.

“I understand,” he says, raising his hands and

backing off angrily.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. Forget it. I just passed by to see if

you’re okay, but evidently I shouldn’t have.”

“You do a lot of things you shouldn’t do.” I

judge him to be insensitive through and through.

I’m angry with him and I have no reason to be.

“Can I ask you what it is I’ve done to you, huh?

Why are you so angry with me? Because of the

other night?”

“I’m not mad at you at all!” I yell even louder

with my hands on my hips.

“Come on, Erin, what’s going on? Up until a

few days ago we were friends…”

I burst out laughing. “Friends? You and I are

nothing, Patrick. Ah, no, excuse me. You are my

boss and I’m a worker, and so you worry about my

health.”

“Is that the problem? We’re back to that?”

I don’t answer, not knowing how to. I’m out of

sorts at his presence and the way he confuses my

ideas. His unexpected sweetness mixed together

with his rude manners. His wanting to be next to

me and then hightailing it out of here as soon as he

let’s himself go a bit.

By all that my heart whispers to me when I

catch a wandering soul in his eyes, and by what

my head yells at me when those same eyes want to

swallow me whole, leaving me nowhere to run.

Patrick runs a hand through his perfectly cut

hair on his perfect head, that’s set on a body that

would be tailor-made to give me perfect orgasms.

That’s it. I’m perfectly out of control.

“You know that’s not what you are for me,” he

adds, sweetening his voice.

The phrase hangs in the air. A phrase that could

have three thousand different hidden meanings, but

in which I see only one, and it’s the one I should

be seeing.

I shake my head and go back to the window.

The girl isn’t there anymore. She must have heard

our screaming match.

“You missed out,” I say sarcastically. “Your date

left.”

He huffs as he walks over to me.

Oh God.

I breathe in with great effort, begging my lungs

to take on their regular function, but it would seem

that he has consumed all the air in this room,

because it’s as if his big overwhelming presence

here is stealing all of the oxygen that there is in

this apartment and the whole world, because I’m

no longer able to breathe next to him.

“The only company I want tonight is yours,” he

says in a whisper that tickles my neck, waking all

of my senses and accentuating my very evident

emotional state.

I’d like to be able to throw myself into his arms.

Let them embrace me and comfort me. I’d like to

feel his lips on my face, on my mouth and every

centimeter of my skin. I’d like to burn under these

hands that delicately caress my shoulders, but

seem to have an unexpected, magnetic effect on

me, but I know how dangerous this is.

“Let me stay, Erin. Please,” he continues,

resting his forehead on my shoulder.

“Why? I’m not one of your playthings you can

set aside the next day. You can never have a few

hours of sex and a goodbye kiss from me. I’m

pregnant, Patrick! I don’t have time for these

things.”

“You’re right, you’re not some plaything and

you never would be, Erin. Pregnant or not, I would

never think of you in that way.”

I turn slowly, hoping that his hands will stop

making me boil from within.

“Of course not. Because I’m not like the others,

right? I’m not gorgeous, fascinating and maybe a

bit easy?”

“No, you’re not like the others.”

“I’m not enough? Is that what you’re trying to

tell me? That you could spend some time with me

without feeling the desire to fuck me on the couch

until tomorrow morning?”

“No, Erin. I don’t have the desire to throw you

on the couch nor do I think I ever will.”

“Humph. I don’t think that’s a nice

compliment.” I turn away to make some distance

b e t w e e n u s , f e e l i n g t h i s h u m i l i a t i n g

disappointment that is burning me from within.

He rubs my shoulder, sliding his hand down my

arm until he reaches my hand. He gently squeezes

my fingers and I feel my legs giving way due to

the anxiety and sheer emotion I feel.

God, he must be good in bed.

“I wouldn’t fuck you on that couch or on the

floor or in bed or in any other place because you,

Erin, are not a girl who gets fucked and left.”

I hold my breath and try to keep my heart inside

my ribcage.

“You’re a woman to love, Erin. A woman to

make love with, all night. Every night.”

Patrick

In one stupid fucking night I throw away my

whole life. A few looks, a few tears, that’s all it

takes to cut me down like some brainless asshole.

Because I know it’s all wrong. I know I’m all

wrong.

I can’t love someone.

I can’t love her.

I’m not the kind of guy that loves one woman,

and does so for the rest of his life. I’m not the kind

of man who can take care of someone else, much

less myself.

I know how to be a friend; the kind you can

count on to help you out of a jam, someone to

cover your ass, someone to pick you up when

you’re completely drunk.

But I’m not a man who loves and more than

that, I’m not a man to be loved.

It doesn’t bother me that that’s what everyone

thinks. It doesn’t bother me that the whole world

thinks I’m a mother you-know-what.

I don’t want her to think that.

Erin has always been a friend, a hard worker.

She’s a fun girl, smart like no one I know. She’s

not fuckable. I had this idea very clear the first

night she came to work for us. With her ironed

work clothes, her short-styled hair tucked behind

her ears. Her light, yet professional make-up. Her

formal and grammatically correct way of speaking.

I understood very quickly that she’s not the kind of

trashy woman that I would want to take liberties

with. Not even considering that she’d be working

with us, I could not ruin things by taking her to

bed.

And everything was going just fine.

She started bringing around that asshole

boyfriend of hers. I didn’t see him much in the

pub, he didn’t go for that type of atmosphere, but it

was enough to see him a few times to understand

what kind of man she liked and I certainly wasn’t

in that category. I like her, always have, but I put

her in the ‘non fuckable’ category and she

remained there until today, or maybe to be honest,

until a few weeks ago.

I knew it was wrong the minute I set foot in her

life, but really, in the beginning, I just wanted to

lend a hand. She was in a spot, right? And that’s

what I do when somebody’s in trouble, I go to

their rescue.

But then, something inside me broke. I would

even dare to say it melted. My heart, trapped in a

block of ice, started moving without curing me of

the disaster that it would provoke in me.

Because she’s alone and vulnerable. And she’s

about to have some other man’s baby. I happen to

know what it’s like to raise a family just with your

own resources. “You don’t get the urge to throw

me on the couch and fuck me ’til tomorrow?” she

said to me.

How could she even think something like that?

Did I ever make her think this is how I thought

of her? Of course I desire her, but I couldn’t do it,

and not only because I’m a bastard. I want her

because I’d like her, now, with everything that

entails.

And so it is that the words come flowing out. I

have no idea where they come from. Listening to

her use the work ‘fuck’ almost gives me the

shivers. I can’t stand hearing her talk in that crude

way. I can’t stand the idea that she even thinks that

way.

“I wouldn’t fuck you on that couch or on the

floor or in bed or any other place because you,

Erin, are not a girl who gets fucked and left.

You’re a woman to love, Erin. A woman to make

love with, all night. Every night.”

Now I feel like Liam. And to think I made fun

of him so badly all this time.

I was an idiot. Not him, not the others.

I’m the one who is wrong.

“You’re delirious, Patrick. You’re confusing

me!”

She musses her unruly hair before covering her

face with her hands. “Please, go away,” she says in

a determined tone.

“I’d like to stay,” I say on the verge of the

abyss.

“Why are you doing this? Why now? Now that

I’m … oh forget it!”

“Now that you’re going to have a baby? Is that

what you’re trying to say? Do you think it makes a

difference to me?”

“Uh, well, it should, because it’s important to

me, Patrick. It’s the only thing that matters. I can’t

afford to be distracted by you or by anyone else.”

“It’s important to you? So that means…” I close

the distance between us, hoping to catch her eye.

“You’ve decided to keep it?”

She lets her hands fall to her sides and looks me

right in the eye.

“Now that you know, you can go. There’s

nothing for you here.”

Maybe she doesn’t understand.

“I already knew you would keep him. I know

you, Erin, better than you may think.”

I take her hand and invite her to sit with me on

the couch, so that we’re facing each other.

“I couldn’t do it, not after hearing its heartbeat.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “It’s my baby, do you

understand?”

Of course I understand. More than she knows.

“Now I imagine you’ll want to hightail it out of

here.”

I shake my head and take her chin in my

fingers.

“You can’t imagine how wrong you are, Erin.”

“I can’t, don’t you understand? I can’t let you

get close to me, not now, especially not now. Not

knowing that you could leave in any given

moment. I need someone who stays all night and

doesn’t leave the next day. And you, Patrick, are

one who leaves in the middle of the night with the

bed still hot.”

“I could…”

She shuts me up by placing a finger on my lips.

“We both know it’s not because of you. I thank

you for you’re being here and your help, but no.

I’m trying to recover from my break-up with Nate

and I have to get used to all the newness of the

situation, the changes and I don’t have these kinds

of things in mind.”

I have to ask her because my jealousy is slowly

consuming me and it’s something new that I’ve

never felt before.

“Are you still in love with him?”

She sighs sadly. “I stopped loving him the day

he told me he went to bed with someone else.”

God, what a relief. I didn’t think I could be

affected so badly by jealousy.

“I don’t want anything from you, I swear.

Nothing that you might be thinking. I just want to

be near you.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because this is where I want to be.”

She nods and rests her back against the couch.

Then she smiles and with that smile goes another

big piece of my dignity.

What the hell do what you want with my

dignity? I don’t care if you use it to make a dog

bed.

“I’m hungry,” she says out of the blue as if

nothing we’ve said ’til now had any importance.

“I’m always hungry. I’m dying of hunger. And I

don’t know how to cook,” she confesses, making a

pouty face like a naughty little girl. “I always eat

the same garbage.”

‘We can fix that,” I say, swallowing a victorious

smile as I start to breathe a bit easier.

13

Erin

I go to the back room to get a few bottles of

whiskey that are needed at the bar, confident there

is no one there, but then I am blocked by a few

voices at the door. I know I shouldn’t listen in on

the guys’ conversations, but Patrick’s voice makes

me stop dead in my tracks.

“Guys, I don’t know if I can get away just now.”

“You?” Jay speaks. “Just you with nothing to tie

you down, you who can’t wait to jump in a new

saddle? Don’t bullshit us, Patrick. You’re the only

one who has nothing to lose.”

Patrick doesn’t answer but remains silent for a

few minutes.

“Is there something you want to tell us?” Liam

asks.

I sneak a bit closer to see as well as hear what’s

going on. Patrick shakes his head and moves,

getting ready to leave the room. When he raises his

glance he sees me and stops at the storage room

door.

“Excuse me, guys,” I say embarrassed, realizing

that by now they’ve all seen me. “I didn’t want to

disturb you, but I need to grab a few things,” I

mutter nervously gesturing with my hands. I can

feel I’m about to start crying again for no good

reason.

“No problem,” Patrick cuts it short. “You didn’t

interrupt anything, we’re done here.”

I look down at my hands because I can’t look at

any of them.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Jay asks, looking

first at me and then at Patrick.

“Perfect,” I say with a strained voice. “Maybe

I’ll come back later.” I turn to go back into the bar

but Patrick blocks me.

“Wait, Erin, let me go with you.”

Without waiting for him, I hurry back because I

do not want to listen to his explanations, if indeed

he had any intention of giving me any. After all,

why should he? He’s free, independent and with no

bonds. He doesn’t have to explain anything to me.

“Erin.” His voice is sweet and strained and even

if I somehow feel betrayed and in a certain sense

disappointed, I cannot resist that tone of voice,

which disarms me.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Patrick, it’s

your life.”

“I’d like to explain.”

“Instead, you shouldn’t,” I say with decision but

without having the nerve to look at him and

keeping him behind me. “You don’t owe me

anything. I’m not your problem,” I conclude,

before going back to the dining hall, leaving my

heart on the pavement.

~ ~ ~

“London?” I ask meekly.

Rain brings me up to date on the situation. Even

if I was able to infer something from their

discussion, I didn’t want to hear Patrick’s version

of it.

“A manager called them for a meeting. He

seems interested in their music.”

“Oh,” I say, surprised. I didn’t know anything

about it, and yet Patrick spent all night at my

house last night. Didn’t he think to let me know

about it?

“It could mean a big change, you know … they

might be away for a while and we’d have to call in

more help here.”

“I understand.”

I understand very well. All those words, that

story about wanting to be close to me … what a

jackass.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine, Rain. I’m going to get

the tables ready for tonight.”

I need to get away because Rain can see right

through me and I’m not up to it right now that my

disappointment’s burning my eyes and massacring

my heart. And to think I believed it. For one night

I believed his words and started hoping.

He made me pancakes and created a stupid

smile out of Nutella on them, covered them with

whipped cream and made me some tea. We

laughed in front of the TV until I fell asleep on the

couch. He took me in his arms and brought me to

bed and gave me a kiss on my forehead, wishing

me goodnight. And tonight I dreamt that that

stupid kiss on the forehead was something more. I

woke up in a great mood today, like I was me

again, like I could make it. And now, I’m right

back where I started.

Damned men.

Damned Patrick.

Damned fool I am.

~ ~ ~

What a miserable night. I’m having a hard time

keeping up with orders and I took more breaks

than necessary in order to keep going all night.

Rain sent me up an hour before closing, worried

about me. She thinks I’m tired, that I’m pushing it

too much. The truth is that my chest hurts and I

have a weight on my heart that’s as big as a

mountain, again, and that I should not have

deceived myself.

Patrick left this morning at dawn, at least that’s

what Rain told me. The guys will be gone for a

few days. A record-house manager contacted them

and asked them to come out and play a few pieces.

This could be a new beginning for them and a

massive disappointment for me. After our brief

discussion yesterday afternoon, I avoided him at

all costs last night and closed the apartment door

and locked it. So he couldn’t come ask me to talk

about it again.

I get into bed, hugging a silly stuffed animal my

father gave me when I was eight years old, and

which I’ve never given up. I hug it tightly, looking

for warmth and comfort, but it’s only a stuffed

animal and not able to give me what I want from a

pair of strong tattooed arms.

Then I let myself fall into a tormented sleep,

made of dark, falling stairs, vertigo that swallows

me up in an immense nothingness.

I don’t know how long I slept, I only know I can

feel a fresh hand on my forehead that is refreshing

against a hammering headache I’ve had since I fell

asleep.

As I open my eyes, I blink a few times until I’m

able to focus on the image in front of me. I try to

speak but my voice doesn’t come out and I start

crying, which has sort of become my daily bread.

“Shh … don’t cry, everything’s fine,” Patrick

tells me.

“Wha … what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want to wake you, I’m sorry, I just

passed by to see how you were doing.”

“I thought you were in London,” I say,

confused.

“I’m back,” he says, giving me a melancholy

smile.

“But surely you only left this morning?”

“Uh, yes, well, I remembered something I had

to do.”

I pull myself up to a sitting position and rest my

back on the headboard.

“It was something that is so important I had to

come back right away.”

“And what’s that?” I ask, still confused.

“This,” he says, before taking my face in his

hands and drawing in close to my lips. Then he

brushes them so slightly that I barely feel his touch

but the heat from his breath penetrates the barriers

of my mind, making me give in to the inevitable.

Patrick kisses my lips, little short kisses that

make me afraid I’ll start crying again. Then he

stops and looks me in the eyes, giving me one of

those sweet looks, sensual and intense, that drag

me with him into the abyss.

“Is it alright?” he asks gazing at me with

penetrating eyes and talking in an impassioned

voice.

I nod.

I forget that I’m pregnant by another man and

every probable consequence that will happen the

moment that he put his lips on mine again, inviting

me to open them and let him in.

And I do it, stupidly irrespective of the big

damage we’re doing to each other, because it’s

Patrick, because he came back for me, because

he’s strong and sexy and I want to feel every beat

of his heart inside me.

His hot tongue tickles mine, which follows right

after his meeting the warmth of his mouth, which

is in contrast with his cold metal piercing, which I

hated from the first day, but that I now adore as if

it were the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.

And we kiss each other for who knows how

long, as he caresses my face, dries my tears and

gives me a night of infinite sweetness and warmth,

holding me to his bare chest and where I am

finally able to relax without descending into the

darkness, without falling and without fear.

Patrick

The episode of the manager and the meeting was a

huge mistake. I can’t believe I left her alone now,

just after having asked her to let me get close.

Where the hell was my head when I accepted this

whole plan?

Sure, I’ve always been the one to push the band

to get back together, to play music, it’s true. I’m

the one who always hoped there’d be more for us

than just playing at the pub and this stupid fucking

one-horse town. I was the one who wanted Four

Reasons To Die to have another chance. Music has

always been our dream and I never understood

why Liam was so reluctant in the beginning.

I do now.

And when I started feeling a knot tightening in

my throat that was threatening to suffocate me in

that studio full of people with instruments and

serious expressions, I understood that I was in the

wrong place with the wrong people.

I walked out of that room, called a taxi and went

straight to the airport. I got on the next available

flight for Dublin and came home.

I came back to her.

After the other night, in which I did everything

but make a move, I can’t believe I was able to go

get that stupid flight without having told her how

much I dreamed about brushing her lips and

kissing her until we were both breathless.

And I swear that’s it.

All the rest isn’t important for now. Now I just

want to taste her and leave my flavor in her mouth

and in her head so that she won’t be able to forget

it.

I let Aaron, Jay and Liam carry on for

themselves. I’m a shitty friend and an even worse

musician, because I feel like I’ve thrown

everyone’s dreams to the wind and I don’t give a

damn and I don’t regret it.

I don’t know how the guys are going to take it,

or the manager or the guys who work for the

recording studio. They’ll probably ask for my

head.

So be it.

I really couldn’t care less.

Because I have to stay here.

With her.

I pay the taxi driver, leaving him the entire

wallet of money as he yells after me. What does he

want, what do I care? I need to run to the upstairs

apartment now, before it’s too late, before she

thinks I’ve abandoned her.

I race upstairs, the door is closed but I was

smart and brought the reserve keys with me. I open

the door and look around, everything is dark and

silent. So I go to the room where she’s sleeping,

clutching a stuffed animal that looks like it’s seen

better days.

I approach her and sit on the bed. I take a deep

breath and encourage myself not to be a coward, to

dive in without overthinking it, even if that means

not having future resentment after she has

shattered my heart to a million pieces

Then I gently rub her forehead with my hand

and she moves in her sleep. She opens and closes

her eyes a few times before realizing what’s

happening.

I tell her that I’ve forgotten to do something

important that couldn’t be put off. So I lean in and

take her face in my hands. I taste her lips, so

slowly that I’m barely able to get the flavor. Then I

look at her with my eyes and my whole face,

because I’m here for her, to kiss her, comfort her

or just to let her cry on my shoulder. And I would

like to tell her that I’d be willing to make her

pancakes every night of her life just to share this

moment together.

I kiss her and tie my tongue to hers and begin

playing with it, letting her feel the metal of my

piercing which I know she’ll like. She puts her

hand on the back of my head and gently rubs it and

I almost lose my breath at that touch because it’s

intimate, intense and important.

All of this is damned important.

Even if I’d like to run as far away as possible

because I’m scared of what’s happening to me, I’m

terrified and I confess that it makes me shake like

a child at his first dentist appointment. I’m staying,

because there’s no other place I’d rather be, there’s

no other place where I could feel every emotion

and every heartbeat directly from the heart.

There’s no other place that I could know that

love, perhaps, does exist.

We kiss until we’re both breathless. I don’t

know if it’s because of the kiss or the fact that I’ve

been holding my breath since I touched down in

Dublin, or the fact that I’m seriously having

trouble getting air in my lungs. So, I lay her down,

wrap her in my arms and keep her safe.

All night, and all those nights to come.

If she wants me.

I squeeze her and give her the sense of security

she needs to face what’s happening to her. I hold

her to me, leaving her to breathe on my bare chest

and let her take my shitty soul, that left alone with

me would have been destined to burn in hell.

And I let her fall asleep like that, while I don’t

make a move, paralyzed by her presence, her

sweetness and her ability to melt a heart in

hibernation like mine.

I don’t close my eyes all night. I want to stay

awake, ready. I don’t want to miss even one of her

breaths.

I place my hands on her round abdomen and an

emotion I’ve never felt before strikes me directly

in the heart. I caress her skin slowly and inhale as

much air as possible to find the courage to go

ahead with this thing, not to pull back, not to hit

the road running as usual.

I want to be there.

I want to remain here.

This time I want to hear everything and take all

that she’s got to give.

I never thought I would have given in like this,

not in a million years.

And yet, here I am, with no shield, no mask and

no weapons.

I’m naked in front of her with my heart on my

sleeve, vulnerable and all I can do is hope that

she’ll be careful with it, like I will be careful with

hers.

14

Erin

Patrick left the apartment early this morning,

telling me that he would be back at lunchtime and

that he wanted to take me someplace. I don’t know

what I’m doing and maybe neither does he, but I

find myself in front of the mirror trying to make

myself look presentable, hiding the bags under my

eyes with a little bit of concealer. Getting dressed

was even harder. I’m only at the beginning of my

pregnancy, but my hips are already spreading and

so is my stomach, not to mention my chest, which

no longer fits into my usual bra size. I’ll have to

buy some new clothes, but with little money

available, it’s not going to be easy. I’ll be forced to

ask for help from my father and to tell him what’s

happening to his only daughter, who had a

promising career in front of her.

I’ve had to opt for a pair of leggings that still fit

me and a large T-shirt that hides my round

abdomen. As I’m still in front of the mirror

caressing the life that is growing inside of me, I

feel his discreet presence behind the closed door.

I blush, embarrassed, and pull my glance away

from my own image, and pretend to be looking for

something in my purse as I’m sitting on my bed.

“You’re beautiful, Erin,” he whispers and I can

hear his embarrassment too.

“And you’re an incurable liar,” I say, feeling as

if he’s making fun of me.

“Why should I lie to you?” he asks, taking a few

steps towards me.

“Because you know full well it’s not true. I’m

getting fat in a hurry and my hair won’t stay in

place and—”

“—And you’re talking smack,” he interrupts

me, taking my hand and forcing me to look at him.

“You always have been beautiful. The first time

you came to the pub I thought you were

breathtaking. You have a simple, sophisticated

beauty and you are so sweet. I understood in that

moment that I never would have had a chance with

you, that you were out of my league.”

“Out of your league? I think you got that turned

around … You’re the one who always goes out

with beautiful girls who are showy and—”

“Sexy, charming,” he continues. “But none of

them have your character, your brains and most of

all, your heart. No one is like you.”

I swallow hard and it’s a loud gulp and I’m

about to have a hormonal breakdown that would

push me to throw him down on the bed, begging

him to have his way with me.

God, I’ll never make it.

“I didn’t think you could be any more beautiful.

You’re simply stunning and … God, help me close

my mouth, won’t you? I’m making an ass out of

myself.”

I laugh at his words and I lean in towards his

lips, rising up to my tiptoes. I cover his mouth with

mine and his arms are ready and waiting to

envelop me, lifting me off the ground, and it’s not

just my body that feels itself rising in the air.

“They’re waiting for us. Let’s go before I regret

what I said the other night. It’s true I said I

wouldn’t throw you down someplace, but—”

“Knock it off,” I tell him, slapping his chest.

“Wait a second, who is waiting for us?” Anxiety

creeps in. He smiles, before biting his piercing

with his teeth.

God, I could just faint.

“You’ll see.”

~ ~ ~

“And this?” I ask when I see Liam’s car parked on

the street out front.

“Did you think I was going to bring you

someplace in a motorcycle?” Patrick says. “I’m

not that much of an idiot.”

“But you love riding your bike and you hate

four-wheeling it. You’ve always said women can’t

resist a guy with a bike.”

“Honey, are under the impression that I care

about other women? The only thing I’m interested

in is that you come with me and that we have a

safe means of travel.”

I have to say I was not expecting that. I don’t

know if I should be happy about this little prize or

if I should be worried about this head-spinning

change in him.

After about forty minutes we arrive in the city.

Patrick parks the car on a street just outside the

city center, where there are kids playing in the

middle of the street. He shuts off the car’s engine

while I stay sitting in my place and just take in the

scene. He comes around to my side and opens the

door.

“Shall we?” he offers me his hand.

“Uhm, I’ve already been here.”

And I’m right. I came here with Rain some

months ago when we went back to her childhood

home, trying to help her reconstruct her first

memories after the accident.

“You see that house with the green door?” he

tells me. “Good, well, that’s Aaron and Rain’s old

house. The one in front of it was Jay’s.”

“I don’t understand.”

“And this violet door was my family’s. I know,

violet is a weird color, but my sisters forced me to

paint it three years ago and it’s stayed like that.

Now that you mention it, it could use a new coat.”

“We’re at your house?”

“Technically it’s my family’s house, but I think

I could still consider it mine.”

“Patrick,” I say pulling him by his arm. “What

are we doing here?”

“We’re going to have lunch with my family, like

I do every Sunday.”

“Alright, let me rephrase the question. What am

I doing here?”

Patrick doesn’t have time to answer me because

the door flies open and two girls fly out and

literally throw themselves in his arms. He grabs

them even if they’re pretty grown-up girls and

kisses them both, visibly happy to see them.

“You mother trucker, you finally made a

decision, huh? You haven’t shown your face in two

weeks,” says the older of the two girls.

“Watch your language, young lady.”

Watch your language?

“What a ball breaker you are.”

“Do I have to tell Mom about this?” he calls her

out.

“Also a tattle tale. Same old bastard” intervenes

the second one.

“Okay, girls, you’re not helping me to make a

good impression. This is Erin.”

The two of them turn to me as if they’ve only

just now realized I’m standing here. Both of them

look first at me and then at him. It’s clear they

don’t know who I am. Patrick puts his hands in his

pockets, embarrassed.

“You brought a girlfriend home?” yells one of

the two.

“I’m a friend,” I clarify, trying to rescue us all

from this tricky situation. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“A friend? This is—”

“Okay, that’s enough. Erin, these are my two

younger sisters, the two thorns in my side, Ciara

and Amanda. And now let’s all go inside because

the others are all in a fistfight trying to get the best

spot by the window to see what’s happening out

here.”

With those words, I turn to look at the house

just in time to see other faces hiding behind the

curtains.

Patrick laughs and shakes his head before taking

my hand and leading me to his house and without

knocking I enter into his life and his world.

Patrick

“Oh darling, finally!” My mother hugs me with

affection.

I called her early this morning to let her know I

was going to bring a guest. She didn’t ask me any

questions. She’s a discreet woman, but knowing

her she will have come to her own conclusions.

I don’t know why I decided to bring Erin with

me to my family’s house. I haven’t been here for a

few weeks and seeing as I cut my trip short I

thought I’d come, and yet I didn’t want to leave

her alone. Especially now that we’ve started to

establish something.

I still don’t understand what there is between us

and don’t want to get a headache trying to define

it, I just know I want her next to me and I want the

assurance that she’s well.

My brothers are all in front of the TV watching

a GAA match. They spare us a quick glance by

way of greeting, but Carl joins my mother and us.

“Mom, Carl, this is Erin.”

“Nice to meet you, honey. I’m Sarah and this is

Carl. Welcome to our house.”

“Thank you for the invitation, I hope it’s not

any trouble.”

“We’re happy you’re here. Patrick never brings

anyone, except those boys.”

“Mother!” I admonish her.

“You know I love them all, but it’s nice every

once in a while to see a new face.”

We take our places at the table. We’re a bit

tighter packed than usual and Erin is squeezed in

between my sister Ciara and me. She seems a bit

nervous and out of it, so I rest my hand on her leg,

squeezing just slightly to reassure her. She smiles

at me in thanks before answering the questions that

are coming at her from every part of the table.

She answers sincerely and politely, taking small

mouthfuls of whatever she can, chewing slowly.

Evidently she’s got a bit of nausea.

“And so you’re an only child,” my mother says.

Erin nods, before telling everyone her story. I

didn’t know her mother lived in America and that

she had gone there with her when she was still

little. I knew that she lived alone with her father,

but I never dug any deeper than that. In reality,

there’s a lot I don’t know about her.

“I can’t imagine what it means living without

siblings,” Ciara blurts out. “It must be strange, but

really spacious.”

Everyone bursts out laughing but Erin limits

herself to a circumspect smile. I hope these

comments haven’t upset her.

After lunch we go into the living room for

coffee, which Erin refuses in favor of a much

lighter tea. I follow my mother into the kitchen to

help her with the cups. She would not accept

Erin’s help, asking her instead to sit down like the

others because she was their guest, but I like

helping out, especially in the kitchen.

I reach for the cups on the top shelf, and my

mother leans in close to me, rubbing my arm

gently.

“What month is she?” she whispers.

Nothing gets by Mama.

“I don’t know if she wants to talk about it,

Mom.”

“Yes, dear, that’s why I’m asking you and not

her. I never would have embarrassed her like that.”

I turn and rest my shoulders up against the

cupboards behind me. “She’s in the first trimester.”

“Is she well?”

“Yes, everything’s okay. When did you realize?”

“I had six children, Patrick. I know the signs.

And then I saw her adjust her T-shirt a few times,

trying to cover something up that is difficult to

hide.”

“No one knows, she wants to wait a bit more.”

“And the father?” she asks delicately.

“How do you know it’s not mine?”

“Because I’m your mother, darling. If it was

yours you would have told me right away.”

“It’s complicated. He left her for someone else

and she found out she was pregnant and didn’t

want to tell him. She didn’t want to have him tied

down to her.”

“She’s a good girl.” She smiles. “And I can

understand her decision. But it’s not easy having a

child and a family, as you well know. It’s already

difficult even with a partner, how is she going to

make it without a father?”

I lower my glance because I don’t know how to

answer.

“And you? What’s your take in all this?” she

asks me, pouring the coffee.

“She’s a friend, she works at the pub. She’s

alone and…”

“And you’re a good boy, Patrick.”

“It’s not true, you know.”

“I know I raised a difficult child who was

always angry and who became a cold and cynical

man, but he’s one who is hiding a heart of gold.”

“You can only talk like that because you’re my

mother,” I concede, giving her a bitter smile.

“Perhaps … but I’m right and you know it too.

Do you feel some kind of obligation towards her,

Patrick? Are you trying to fix things? Maybe right

a wrong that’s been done?”

I shake my head and set the cups up on the tray.

“It wasn’t your fault what happened. She’s

already decided and there was nothing you could

have done to make her change her mind. I know it

and so do you.”

“Mom, Erin has nothing to do with that story,

this is a different situation.”

“Are you in love with her, Patrick?

“Fuck no!”

“Watch your language.”

“I’m sorry. No, I’m not in love with her,

Mother. I’m just trying to help out a friend in

trouble.”

“And does she know that she’s just your

friend?”

“What does that mean?” I ask without looking

at her.

“Oh honey,” she says, shaking her head and

going into the living room, leaving me alone with

my thoughts and my cowardice.

I follow her, feeling in a bad mood. Her words

made me reflect on what it is I’m really doing

here. Am I leading her on? Am I letting her believe

in something that isn’t really there?

Then I see her joking around with my brothers

and complimenting my mom for the beautiful

curtains. She seems comfortable, at peace, almost

happy. And my heart closes up in one bite,

obstructing my breathing once again.

What am I doing?

“Hey, everything alright, son?” Carl asks me,

coming close. “She’s a really nice girl, Patrick.”

I nod and give him my best fake smile.

“I’d like to see her again,” he adds and with

that, I find the courage to meet his glance. “Don’t

fuck this up, please,” he adds because he knows

me. I’m anything but a model of integrity, even if

my mother obstinately sees something in me that

isn’t there.

Because this is who I am, who I’ve always

been. I was born like this. Unable to let anyone

into my heart and incapable of taking care of

someone else. Unable to feel anything like a

sincere and true emotion that goes beyond my own

physical needs.

I am a man with a stone heart that could only

smash and destroy a girl like her, who is so sweet

and in need of love.

A love that I’ll never be able to give her.

And when she turns towards me, smiling and

grateful for this warmth of a family that I

unconsciously let her be a part of, I can feel myself

dying and falling, because I am making an

unforgivable mistake letting her get close to

something that in reality can never be.

I am not a man who loves

I am not predisposed to love.

I can’t give her love. But there is something,

maybe, I can do for her and for the life that’s on its

way. I can help, be a shoulder to cry on, a rock to

grab on to. I can be close to her so she doesn’t feel

alone, because I know what it feels like and I don’t

want someone else to feel that way because of me.

I don’t want her to ever feel like that.

Ever.

15

Erin

“Thanks, that was a nice day,” I say as we park the

car outside the pub.

“Didn’t they make you uncomfortable? That’s

their speciality.”

I smile bitterly. “They were all fantastic, I didn’t

realize how much it means to have a family that

loves you so much and worries about you.”

“Why, isn’t yours like that?”

“Sure, but, you know, it’s just me and my dad

and he’s always busy. It’s not at all the same.”

My dad and I have a great relationship, we have

things in common. Neither of us is very expressive

emotionally, but we love each other and that’s

what counts.

It was just us for many years; I didn’t realize

that being around a family would have this effect

on me. I wouldn’t want my son to be forced to

grow up like me, with no relatives and just one

parent.

“Why do you call your father by his first name?

Is it some kind of masculine pride or something or

are you just too big for that kind of thing?” I tease

him a little just to distract myself.

“Because Carl is not my father. He’s not father

to any of us,” he says, looking out the window.

“Oh, I’m … I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be

nosey.”

“It’s not important.”

“And you’ve got a good relationship?” I try

probing.

“He’s a good man. He takes care of my mom

and all my brothers and sisters. If it weren’t for

him, I don’t know what would have happened to

all of us. My mom sure could not have carried on

all by herself for much longer.”

“What about your dad?”

“He took off when I was fifteen.”

“Don’t you ever see him?”

“No. The day he left us he was dead to me.”

I try asking a bit more before he closes up for

good.

“Did he abandon you?”

“He left a wife and six kids alone without a

dime and without looking back.”

Now I understand. I understand everything and

the revelation of it is like a slap in the face. It’s as

if the five fingers were imprinted on my cheek and

I can feel it burning.

“Is something wrong?” Patrick asks me after a

few moments of silence.

“I’m just tired. It was a long day and I’d like to

lie down for a bit.”

“Sure, I’ll go with you.”

“No,” I block him right away. “There’s no need

and you have to get back to work. I think you’re

already late,” I say, looking at the clock.

“They can do without me for a few minutes.”

He tries to take my hand but I won’t let him.

He sighs in frustration and rests his head on the

steering wheel. “Won’t you tell me what’s really

going on, Erin?”

“It’s that everything is all wrong, Patrick.

You’re not right for me.” And as I say it a piece of

my heart turns black.

He lifts his head up, searching for my eyes.

“What the fuck?”

“You don’t have to do it, you don’t have to take

someone else’s place. You don’t have any

obligation towards me, you’re not the one who got

me pregnant and it’s not your responsibility,” I say,

closing the conversation as quickly as possible.

“You don’t have to occupy a space that isn’t yours,

or take care of someone that was abandoned by

someone else.”

“Erin…”

He tries again to take my hand, but I cross my

arms over my chest like a little girl having a

temper tantrum.

“Why are you saying these things? Is that what

you seriously think? That I want to be with you so

I can assume some kind of super hero status? I’m

not a hero and I’m not a person who has been

given the gifts of sentiment, compassion or pity. If

I want to stay, it’s because I want to.”

“Only because you want to? What are you, five

years old?”

“What do you want from me?” he yells. “What

the fuck do you expect me to do?” he continues in

a rage.

And that’s when I understand that this is all

wrong. That he is wrong. I can’t accept the

consequences of this relationship. Because I’m not

alone anymore, there are two of us and this baby

deserves the best.

If he can’t have a father who is able to give and

receive love without feeling an obligation to do so,

then it’s up to me to do my best to give him

everything I can on my own.

“I don’t expect anything. I never asked you for

anything! You’re the one who came to me, who

said all those things to confuse me and take

advantage of my vulnerability. You’re … you’re

exactly what I would have expected from you and

what everyone already knows about you, Patrick:

you’re an asshole, a bastard who’s incapable of

loving, with an iceberg in place of a heart.”

His expression changes and his eyes turn a dark

and intense black like a black hole I would not

want to get sucked into.

I open the car door and get out, trying to calm

down and regain control of myself because I can

feel I’m falling apart and there’s nothing I can do

to stop it.

I open the pub door and make a beeline for the

stairs, hoping to avoid any questions of anyone

who may see me crying desperately for having lost

something yet again. But I’m not that lucky. Aaron

notices me and blocks me on the way up.

“What did that asshole do?”

I shake my head, telling him that it’s nothing

and that he shouldn’t insist, that he should just let

it go.

“Come on, I’ll take you upstairs,” he says. And

even if I don’t want him or the others to know, I

find myself once again on my couch crying on

someone’s shoulder as I vent my feelings.

“I’m pregnant,” I say between sobs.

“That bastard knocked you up?” he yells,

enraged and jumping to his feet.

“No, it wasn’t Patrick. It was Nate, my ex–

boyfriend,” I conclude in a broken whisper of a

voice.

I tell Aaron everything. Starting with my

discovery of the betrayal, to the pregnancy and my

fancy ideas about Patrick.

Aaron doesn’t interrupt me but lets me talk and

sob until I’m calm and I lay down on the couch,

still shaken up. Without my realizing it, Liam and

Jay are also in the apartment, sitting at a table in

front of me.

“What?”

“Everything’s fine, Erin.”

“Why are you all here?” I try to sit up but Jay

makes a gesture, encouraging me to stay as I am.

“We’re here for you.”

“For me?”

“I already knew, Erin,” Liam confesses. “Rain

told me. Please don’t be upset with her about it.

She was just worried about you.”

Well, I should have known it. Rain isn’t very

good at keeping things secret.

“You don’t have to worry about anything,” Jay

continues. “Everything’s going to be alright. And

whatever you decide, you have to know that we

are here and you can count on us. We’re always on

your side.”

I don’t understand what I did to deserve so

much support and encouragement. My lip starts to

shake, a sure sign of an incoming crisis, when

Aaron caresses my cheek and gives me a sweet

smile that opens the door to my tears.

“You’ll stay here as long as you want. And we’ll