Unmarked: Sean's Story (Chosen #4)

by Alisa Mullen

  “I hope that Sean and I will stay together but my family is in Ireland. I am very devoted to my family. One family member, especially.” Aoife said a bit stronger now.

  I nearly choked on my next bite. She had to be kidding me. Her father? The bastard that left marks all over her body? Loyal to him? The guy who drank himself into who knows what kind of trouble? The same guy who expected her to pay for his living arrangements? She couldn’t be serious.

  Lizzie pursed her lips together and gave her one nod as she absently looked down at her plate of ziti. She picked up the fork and began to eat. She had heard the same speech so many summers ago. Family. Family always came first. Not love. Love wasn’t strong enough. It didn’t match the loyalty. Loyalty beat out love hands down.

  It was in that moment that I got it. It was what Lizzie was hoping for. Sure, love is grand. It is fun and fuck, it’s love. But it had nothing on tradition and dedication and rules. She could never be mine. She would never be mine. She didn’t want to be mine because if she truly did, she would choose me. She would, at the very least, ask me to visit. She would offer up a little piece of hope to hold onto for a future together.

  Silence was in between all of us. It was in the forks, the glasses, the napkins. Silence was an ice block that had literally dropped on our table after Aoife confirmed her plans. It was cold and so fucking uncomfortable.

  “I need a smoke,” I finally said as I threw down my napkin and got up. No one said a word but I did hear Aoife let out a slow breath. No one followed me and thank God for that. My night was officially ruined and I wasn’t pleased about the turn of events. I was beyond wounded.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sean

  I didn’t even go back into the restaurant. I smoked like five Reds as I waited for the other three to come out. I watched people run across streets, kids messing around with a basketball, and couples holding hands as they enjoyed their date night out. I had one date night out. It turned into watching other people have date nights.

  The ridiculous idea that I was like everyone else and I deserved a long lasting intimate relationship with another woman was shoved into my face once again and to boot – it was at the mouth of Lizzie O’Malley herself. She would claim that I needed to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. I would tell her the bigger picture was so God damn boring that it made me want to drool. Sean Ford – grew up with mom, apprenticed with a tattoo artist in Newburyport, Massachusetts, fell in love, got heartbroken, dated a few women, became owner of a tattoo The Ink Shop, fell in love again, got heartbroken again, and decided to live to work until the day I died.

  Aoife’s sleep talking dream came back to me. She wanted us forever. She screamed it. She was having a major battle with herself and I was fucking frustrated.

  If I told her that I wanted to live in the moment that could be far more interesting. What if we didn’t get cannolis that night? What if I took the girl that I loved back to our apartment and made love to every inch of her body? She would tell me she loved me, kiss my lips softly, and we would fall asleep entangled in one another. That was my story. That was what I wanted to hear. Only that.

  The three of them eventually made their way out of the restaurant. Aoife ran up to me and handed me a to-go bag. She smiled quickly and nodded to the bag.

  “You didn’t finish,” she stated. I wanted to throttle her. Really, Aoife? I didn’t finish? How about you? Will you finish?

  I nodded and took the bag. We followed Nick and Lizzie to the corner.

  “Cannoli time,” Lizzie beamed. She fucking beamed as she rubbed her palms together fast.

  “Yeah,” I said, scratching the back of my neck in a way to sound somewhat sorry. “I can’t go. I got a call from The Ink Shop just now. One of the smokes called in so I am going to head up and take his clients for the rest of the night.”

  And I would. I would walk into The Ink Shop around eleven and growl at any smoke that didn’t let me have their appointment. I needed to hear the machine and got lost in art. I needed death metal love songs and the beat of my heart as I made the music part of my ink session. There really wasn’t any better escape.

  “What?” Lizzie basically yelled so loud that we all jumped. “Don’t you dare fucking lie to us, Sean. You are going to have cannolis and stay in Boston with your girl.”

  Was she on drugs? She just basically told me to sell my stock in Aoife before it plummeted and I went broke. Now she wanted me to go all in?

  I shook my head, slightly out of confusion, and partially because I was annoyed. I risked a glance to Aoife whose face was turned away from the entire conversation. She quickly put her hand up to her face, removing something, and then went back to hugging herself around her waist. She was just as wounded as me.

  “This was a really bad idea,” I said to no one in particular. I had to say it. It was the truth. There was no way we could all pretend that everything was just peachy and move on to the cake. My excuse to go to The Ink Shop seemed disingenuous but it was far better than the alternative of staying here and playing games.

  Was it me or did everybody feel like we were being caved in to a smaller circle by other tourists? Not to mention that everyone that passed by us, noting the tension, kept their eyes fixed on my stern look and the girl’s somewhat fearful ones. Aoife changed her stance and stood off to the side and I could tell she was beginning to cry. Lizzie and Nick kept looking at each other for something to either say or do to make this awful situation any less uncomfortable. They didn't know what to do and the really fucked up part was that none of this would have even gone down if Lizzie had kept her trap shut.

  I took the initiative and hailed a cab down. I opened the back door and let Aoife get in. She was a little thing, hiding into herself even more. It looked like she almost expected me to lash out at her. Then I looked at Lizzie. I didn’t know what to feel at that point. Sure, she was my friend, but was this line of questioning her true agenda when she asked us out to dinner in the first place? I rolled my eyes at that idea while she gaped at me. She must have thought I was rolling my eyes at Aoife. She was so wrong. How could someone I thought was absolutely flawless for so many years become a raging bitch in a blink of an eye?

  Lizzie tired me out just thinking about her questions and her innuendos about my relationship to Aoife. Nick immediately went to the front door of the cab and got in. Lucky bastard. I planned on taking that seat so I didn’t have to sit next to the crux of this problematic evening. I slammed the door behind me and let out a huge exhale, praying that no one would say a damn word the entire way back to Boston Commons. I wanted my truck, my girl, and our bed. I would pretend nothing happened, unless of course, she wanted to talk about it.

  “Are you guys going to stay and have dessert with us at our place?" Lizzie asked, trying to sound upbeat.

  "No, "Aoife and I blurted out at the same exact time. We looked up to each other at the same moment, as well. She wanted to talk. She wanted to run. She didn’t want to be around people. Fuck. I don’t know what look crossed over her face but it wasn't favorable. Had she given up? Had I looked like I had given up? Did we both want to give each other up?

  Either way, we had something to talk about and it wasn't going to happen outside of Nick and Lizzie’s place. The valet kid went to grab my truck. I offered Lizzie a quick hug and shook Nick’s hand. Aoife just waved a little goodbye to both of them and said thank you for dinner. I had forgotten that they probably paid for dinner I shook my head as I got into the truck and thought I would call tomorrow and tell Nick that I really appreciate them taking us out.

  I didn't appreciate them taking us out. It was one of the worst nights I’d ever experienced. Even the night that Aoife showed me her scars was so much more awesome than it was tonight and all because of Lizzie. Lizzie had to go and open her big, fat fucking mouth and tell us her feelings about what had happened to her – not to me – so many years ago.

  Wasn't Nick pissed about that? I looked over at Aoife wh
o is just staring out the window not even trying to grab my hand or say anything to me.

  "Hey," I said softly.

  She looked over at me and I saw the tears swimming in her eyes.

  "Hey," I said a little louder and motioned for her to come closer to me.

  "I'm so sorry, Sean," Aoife said quietly as she finally moved a little closer. We took each other’s hand and I gently stroked her fingers with my thumb.

  "I know. Me, too."

  We both walked into her apartment and we didn't say anything. Aoife turned toward the bathroom and I sat down on the folding chair in the kitchen. Minutes passed and I knew she wasn’t just using the bathroom for normal reasons. I walked up to the door and listened for a while. I got angry. I got fucking pissed. I put both of my arms on the door frame.

  "You can run and hide but you will want to come back to me. If I knew you liked to play games, I wouldn't have given us a second thought when we met, Aoife. It's you and me talking or I walk."

  I heard a rough sob come from the other side of the door and I sighed. She had thirty minutes to get her shit together and then I was bolting. I was exhausted from this rollercoaster of women coming and going. I went and sat back down in the kitchen and watched the bathroom door and the clock simultaneously.

  Aoife walked out of the bathroom thirteen minutes later and her face was beyond tear stricken. She looked like she had been crying for days. I looked up to her and gave her a sad smile. I wanted her to know I wasn’t pissed at her, per se. I was disappointed in the evening. There wasn’t any other way to describe it. We went from having a couples date to trying to figure out life’s answers within hours. It was fucking dumb.

  "Are you going to go to The Ink Shop?" She asked inquisitively.

  I shook my head.

  "No," I said sternly. “I think we need to talk. I don't know what all that was about tonight. I miss you already and you haven't even gone. "

  "I feel the exact same way, Sean," Aoife said as she took a seat.

  "But you haven't left yet,” I concluded. She nodded her head and her eyes lit up a little. I wanted to smile at that hope but I couldn’t get out of the funk that killed our joy tonight.

  We sat there in silence for a few moments – staring at one another – almost looking for the answers we wanted, we needed, we had to have. Then we abruptly got to our feet, reaching for one another. Folding chairs fell to the floor as we hugged each other with reverence, sorrow, and hope. It was passionate. We hugged each other so hard that it almost hurt physically. However, if that hug could cure the predicament we had found ourselves in, we wouldn’t go one day without one another for the rest of our lives.

  I wouldn't want to ever let her go. I wanted her to stay with me forever and I try to tell her that in our hug. I needed her to know that if it were up to me, I would be with her forever. I wanted her to be mine. Only. Her. She was the only one in my eyes, in my mind, and in my being.

  *****

  By Monday, Aoife and I were well on our way to becoming hermits. We didn’t see or talk to anyone but each other and the delivery people. We spent every second from the moment we hugged to the alarm blaring us awake in bed on Monday morning, naked as the day we were born. She was fucking unbelievable. She initiated sex more than I did and I was either inside of her or connected to her in some way throughout the two days. I don’t remember how many orgasms I had just Saturday night alone but my body this morning was feeling it. Both days were amazing but certainly Saturday was the night we went hard core at each other. I was so sore that I questioned how she could possibly feel.

  “Good morning, Irish,” I snuggled into her neck and smiled.

  “No, I don’t want to go to work,” she whined. I laughed hollowly because I didn’t want her to go either. I wanted her all to myself, for my whole summer, my whole life – just her and me and this bed.

  “Call in sick,” I whispered into her ear and I saw a large grin grace her face. Jesus. How could this woman not be only mine forever? We fit. We were two of the same and I knew that she felt it, too.

  “I want to,” she admitted. She let out a long exhale and curled her body into my chest. She was so warm and together we started breathing a little heavier.

  “Good, call in sick, and let’s go get married,” I growled into her ear.

  Oh. My. God. I just proposed. We both went still. She turned her stunned eyes up to look at me and I must have looked equally as shocked because she started laughing so loudly. I had never seen her laugh that hard.

  “Shit,” I blew out as I rolled on to my back. “It just came out. I mean, that’s what I want. I want you. I don’t want you to go to work today or tomorrow. I don’t want you to go home to Ireland. Just stay. Stay with me.”

  “I so very much want to. I mean I want to stay home today and I will ring my boss,” she said as she looked up to my eyes. She placed her palm on the side of my unshaven face.

  “Sean,” she started with a bit of an argument in her tone. “I want to stay with you in America but I can’t. Please don’t ask me again. It is just as hard to tell you that. Probably more hard than it is for you to hear. I promise as soon as something happens and we get a place, you can come to see me.”

  Her eyes begged me. Fucking begged me. It was apparent that she and I would be equally sad and it threw me. I had been so selfish. She would hurt, too.

  That understanding somehow made me feel a shitload better. I must have been a fucking jack off because now that I knew she didn’t want anyone but me – I could somehow breathe again. Jesus. Love was serious bull shit on a dandelion filled, green meadow.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Aoife

  The dinner out with Lizzie and Nick was a disaster. It made both me and Sean ruminate about what we were doing about our time together in America. I loved him. I would always love him. I didn’t know how to handle these feelings for a guy when I knew that at the end of my time here, I wouldn’t ever see him again. I couldn’t ever see him again.

  I had responsibilities back home and they called to me every day. I had to be selfless. I had to be the one that is thinking about other people and as much as I wanted it to be my Sean in Boston, it just couldn’t be. My family in Ireland had been my life for so many years that it was ingrained in blood. I couldn’t think about other people because I must make sure that my family is taken care of and I couldn’t do that by staying here. Maybe that was wrong of me – leading Sean along like this but he knew that I wouldn’t stay.

  He thought I wouldn’t. He didn’t know that I actually couldn’t.

  If there was a way that he could come home with me and it would still be okay, I would do it in a heartbeat but Sean doesn't want my life back home. He has The Ink Shop here and although Lizzie doesn't really like me very much, he has good friends. Nothing is tying him down. Nothing is keeping him from moving on and doing more with his future. If I was in his life after this summer, I would bring him down. My family is such a disaster.

  Sean has asked me many times why my scars are only on my chest and my back and my stomach and I didn’t tell him. Da said that I must look like I am unmarked to the world. I must look like I am beautiful to the world. I must look like I have my life all put together; everything is good, solid and beautiful.

  Ironically, that's why I loved Sean so much. He was aware of the ugly that lies underneath my clothes – clothes that I use more for protection than for fashion. Sean doesn't know that the lies are the secrets that live deep underneath my skin. If I told him everything about my life back in Ireland, that would be total exposure. I would be exposing everything and I would ruin how he views me. I won’t back down. I would go to any lengths to make sure that my family is happy and well cared for.

  That is all Sean needs to know. He doesn't need to know everything about me. He could go back to living his normal life after these few weeks with me. When I go back to Ireland I will be back to being the head of my family and that is my obligation. I am not unmarked. I have
more tattoos, albeit from abuse, than Sean does. No matter how many marks I accumulate, one thing will always remain steady in my life. My number one priority will always be my love for my man. Sean should always know that he lives deep inside my heart forever. That was why I needed to let him go.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Sean

  Every week we went to Kenpo. Three times a week, we made it part of our life. It was our thing. Like some couples bowl or go for wine tasting? We went to a class to learn how to kick the shit out of people. Aoife got bad ass. She was really talented in adjusting her weight. We practiced at our place, at my place up in Newburyport, and even at the park when we took walks to get food or just because we couldn’t fuck each other to death every day. Well, we tried to.

  One Thursday night, we were headed out for class and my cell rang. I didn’t go to grab it but instead took the house keys out of Aoife’s hands and started for the door. As I pulled it open, my phone rang again, and we both looked back at it. Two calls in a row warranted a look – at the very least.

  Lizzie’s face and name took up the phone’s screen and I heard Aoife say something about something being obvious under her breath. I made a quick text and told Lizzie I would call her later.

  She called again.

  “Listen, we are going to be late.” Aoife’s arms were crossed over her chest and I nodded in agreement. We were consistent about Kenpo. We were always early and even stayed after so we could do a little one on one with each other if we were paired with others during the class.

  “Maybe something is wrong with one of the kids, though,” I worried out loud, looking at the phone with a bothered look.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Pick up the call.” Her body relaxed at her resolved agreement that it could be Niall or Sammy.