“Oh shit.” She peered at me through slatted eyes. “You’re in love with him.”
“What?!” I screeched.
How had she gotten that out of anything I’d said or done in the last ten minutes.
“You might not know this Sophie, but you’d suck at poker. When I said you needed to get laid, you looked horrified, then your eyes got all misty, like you couldn’t imagine being with anyone ever again,” she explained. “I might have drawn some conclusions of my own, but yeah. It’s right there on your face. You’re in love with Declan.”
“Shh,” I warned. “Everyone here knows him and gossip travels faster than …” When I couldn’t find an apt comparison, I said, “Let’s just say news travels fast around here. If anyone hears you talking about me being in love with Declan, I’m done for.”
In a twist of comical timing, Siobhan walked past and said, “Whoever’s in love with Declan will have to take a number. Half of Dublin would give their left tit to be with him.”
“No one’s in love with Declan!” I bleated, which only made me sound guilty.
“Is that so?” she remarked, cackling as she bussed a table.
I groaned once she was out of ear shot. “Well, there goes that.”
“You never answered me,” Katie interjected like a dog with a bone. “Are you in love with him?”
“I told you, I’m leaving soon. And even if I wasn’t leaving, it hardly matters when he cheated.”
“What did he say when you broke up with him?”
Ugh, not this again.
“I did it over text,” I admitted guiltily. “He said I had it all wrong but I ignored him. Told him goodbye.”
“Did you? Have it all wrong?” she asked, eyeing me speculatively.
Unable to bear up under her scrutiny much longer, I looked away before answering. “Maybe. His sister thinks the girl, Maggie, is lying. I don’t know what to think.” I shrugged and dragged my eyes back to Katie. “It doesn’t matter though because I’m leaving soon and we would have broken up eventually anyhow.”
“Sophie, you don’t know that,” she intoned. “You have to find out the truth. If you love him—really love him—you have to know for sure.”
“It’s too late. He basically told me he hates me and never wants to see me again.”
“Well, make him see you!” she declared. “Like I said, you have to know. He has to know.”
“Oh no,” I argued. “I’m not telling him I love him now. He broke my heart, Katie. Even if he didn’t cheat on me, the things he said later … it was too much. It hurt, bad.”
“I’m going to ask you something and I want you to think before you answer.”
“Okay,” I nodded.
“Do you honestly believe he cheated on you?”
I thought over our time together, from that very first day at the airport until those horrible minutes when Maggie and Annie confronted me with their claims. Declan might have behaved dishonorably toward women in the past, but I knew he’d wanted me for more than sex. Yes, we’d been explosive together, but we were also so much more than that. He made me laugh and I gave him a measure of peace. He’d felt like the missing piece in the puzzle of my life, and I thought I’d been similar for him. I had some experience with how men behaved when they were cheating, and that wasn’t how things were with us. Nothing about our relationship had felt furtive, none of our moments stolen or guilty.
Claire’s warning came back to me for the thousandth time.
I exhaled on a sob. “No.”
“You have to tell him then. He has to know, Sophie. If he finds out you’re in love with him, he might rethink things.”
“I’m surprised you’re so open-minded about the power of love given you just ended a two-year engagement.”
“Fucking asshole fucking anyone with a pair of fake tits,” she responded bitterly. “Sorry,” she murmured when she calmed down. “Come on Soph. Woman up.”
“It’s just …” I began, trying to sort out how to explain myself. My fear wasn’t just about Declan and my feelings for him, and it wasn’t that I was opposed to being in a long distance relationship if he did take me back. The truth was, there were obstacles I wasn’t sure we could get past. I wasn’t convinced that if he decided to give me another chance we wouldn’t find ourselves here eventually for one reason or another. It was bad enough trying to get over him after only a couple of months; I didn’t want to know how it’d feel if he left me after a couple of years.
“… it’s just really fucking complicated,” I said eventually.
“You’ve been using that word a lot today. Things don’t have to be complicated, Sophie. If you’re in love with him, tell him. It’s really quite simple.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I argued.
“Really? You think so? You think it was easy for me to swallow my pride and tell Jackson I loved him when I knew there was a very good chance he’d wind up breaking my heart?”
“No, that must have been terrifying,” I admitted. “But if you knew it was risky, why’d you agree to marry him?”
She paused and her eyes took on a faraway, dreamy look before clearing. “I suppose I thought I could change him. Isn’t that what every woman wants to believe when they fall in love with someone all wrong for them?”
“That’s what they tell me.”
The truth was, I wouldn’t know. I’d never tried to change a man, Declan included. To that point, none had tried to change me either.
“I have to hand it to you,” I added. “You put yourself out there and even though it didn’t work out, you would do it all over again, wouldn’t you?”
“Every. Single. Time.” She placed her hand over mine and squeezed. “But this isn’t about me. It’s about you and Declan. I know you thought you loved Stephen but you were never this torn up over him, not even after you found out he was married. When you talk about Declan, I can see in your eyes how much you care for him. I really think you’ll regret it if you don’t tell him how you feel.”
“He knows how I feel,” I said.
She eyed me for a few moments then said, sympathetically, “I don’t think he did. I hate to break it to you, but you’re a tough nut to crack, m’dear. My guess is he spent your whole relationship wondering.”
“Maybe, I dunno,” I answered churlishly. “Besides, it’s not like he ever told me how he felt.”
The half-truth caught in my throat as our conversations flashed through my mind—every laugh, every sigh, every moment of warmth and tenderness. He may not have used the words, but he’d told me. Time and time again.
“I’ll say it one more time: you need to tell him how you feel.”
“No, I don’t.”
“I don’t understand what the issue is,” she probed. “If it works out, great. But if it doesn’t, at least you know and can move on.”
“That’s the issue right there,” I blurted, pointing angrily at her. “I don’t want him moving on. I’m tired of men moving on.” I inhaled and calmed my voice. More gently, I said, “I don’t want to be disappointed. What’s more, I don’t want my grandparents to be disappointed. They love Declan like a grandson and if they saw us as something permanent and he broke my heart again … he’d break their hearts too.” I sucked in a deep breath. “I just don’t want them thinking I’ll stay because of him. I can’t stay and he can’t leave, so I don’t see how this plays out.”
“And you’re truly set on leaving here in a couple of weeks?” she asked.
“Yes,” I responded, emphatically. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She bit her thumb and considered her response. “Well, it’s just that it sounded to me like you were trying to save your grandparents’ business and I guess I assumed that meant you were here until that happened.”
I couldn’t be mad at her assumption because it made sense, but after weeks of trying to cajole them into seeing things from my point of view, I’d given up. “I think that’s a lost cause,” I admitted.
“Anyhow, back to you and Cian,” I remarked brightly in order to change the subject since I was tired of talking about my depressing state of affairs. “If you’re into him, I can put in a good word.”
“Thanks,” she laughed. “I might be out of practice, but I haven’t forgotten how to fish,” Katie said as she slid off her stool. “And I’m hoping that one’s a Moby Dick.”
She winked and sauntered off toward the other side of the pub where Cian was deep in conversation with the butcher’s nephew.
I watched in awe as she ambled up to them, her hips swaying seductively, and interrupted whatever they’d been discussing. She rested her hand on Cian’s shoulder and leaned in to say something that focused both men’s attention on her mouth. Within seconds they were hanging on her every word. Cian tried to keep his eyes trained on Katie’s face, but every so often he’d let them wander the expanse of her body, coming to rest on her ample chest, before traveling back up to her lips.
Yup, she’d landed her whale.
After Katie had fallen asleep, I laid in bed listening to the sounds of her soft snoring and thinking about what both she and Aoife had said. Neither understood how frightened I was though. I’d gotten through Declan’s rejection this time, but if I opened myself up again only to be shut down, I didn’t think I’d recover.
As my mind worked overtime to convince my heart it was a bad idea to venture down that road, my heart gave it the middle finger and my hand reached for the phone.
Sophie: I spoke with Aoife today. She’s worried about you. I know things are over between us, but if your sister is worried enough to come see me, that makes me worried too. Please call her and tell her you’re okay.
I read back over the note, Katie’s words echoing in my brain.
Tell him.
Before I could talk myself out of it, my fingers flew over my phone’s virtual keyboard.
Sophie: I think I made a mistake Declan. No, that’s not true. I *know* I made a mistake. I should have let you explain. I should have listened to you when you said you hadn’t cheated on me. But I was so hurt, and maybe I used Maggie’s words to justify running. Because the truth is, I’m terrified about what we have. Sorry, what we *had.* I think about you all the time. Do you think about me too? Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not fair of me to say those sort of things when I told you things were over. When I pushed you away. But I want you to know you’re special to me and I’ll always think back on our time together with … well, I’ll look back on it happily. I fought like mad to stay away from you but I’m glad, in the end, I didn’t. Things may not have gone the way I wanted, but I won’t ever regret it. I’m leaving in a couple of weeks and I don’t know when I’ll be back or if I’ll ever see you again. So please, just know that I care about you and I wish you nothing but the best.
The cursor blinked over and over again, daring me to hit send. I read the message back, the words I’d written filling me with sadness and regret. After staring at the screen for several long seconds, I deleted it and turned my phone off.
Rolling onto my side and pulling the covers over my head, I clenched my eyes shut and willed sleep to come. Two hours later, I was still awake, thinking about everything I’d left unsaid.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Declan
I’d spent more time in this particular pub than I had in the last six months combined, looking for an answer to my problems at the bottom of a bottle.
“You look like you could use some company,” a female voice purred next to me, interrupting the staring contest I’d been engaged in for the last five minutes with my glass of whiskey.
“Not really,” I muttered, raising it to my lips.
“Drinking whiskey alone before dark on a weekday sure as hell looks like you need a friend,” she insisted.
“I have plenty of friends.”
I turned on her, my voice angry, and was surprised to see the bird wasn’t half bad looking. Objectively speaking, she was actually quite gorgeous … if you liked that Kim Kardashian look. I’d never cared before that the women I hooked up with camouflaged their faces under several layers of paint, but compared to the fresh-faced beauty I couldn’t get out of my head, the amount of makeup this one wore bordered on obscene.
“But do you have any friends like me?” she whispered into my ear, her breath warm and moist on my skin.
Maybe getting laid will help you forget about Sophie, I thought, raking my gaze from the top of her glossy brown hair, down to the tips of her fuck-me heels.
No doubt, her body was banging. My dick twitched in agreement, ready to come out and play. When I wasn’t drinking, all I wanted was Sophie. Unfortunately, I was a long way from sober and the temptation sitting next to me was hard to resist.
When she leaned into me, her breasts rested against my bicep and I flinched from the contact. She ran her hand down the length of my arm then slowly dragged it away, the tips of her fingers a suggestive caress. I gritted my teeth and pushed down a groan of frustration. If she kept touching me like that, whispering in my ear, I didn’t know how much longer I could fight off the urge to fuck her the same way I’d done with hundreds before her.
The wayward thought reminded me why Sophie and I had been doomed from the beginning. I hadn’t done anything wrong—not this time, at least—but who was to say I wouldn’t have caved eventually? Everyone knew I wasn’t the type of man she needed; the temptation I felt right now was all the proof required. Even as I mourned the loss of Sophie in my life, my dick wanted desperately to sink into this woman and make all my pain go away.
If I was fucking, I reasoned, I wouldn’t be thinking and that sounded like a terrific idea. No, I told myself forcefully. That is the worst fucking idea you’ve ever had.
I took another mouthful of whiskey, the liquid burning a fiery path down my throat, and forced myself to lean away from the woman’s touch. “I’ve had friends like you, love. More than you could possibly imagine.”
She peered at me and drunk though I was, I could practically see the wheels turning in her pretty little head. “Oh, I’ve no doubt you have. But they’re not here and I am.”
In the cover of dark, she placed her hand on my thigh and moved it upward. Before she could reach my straining dick, I gripped her hand—hard—and pushed it away, the combination of liquor and disgust making me shove her back rougher than I meant to. I watched as, in slow motion, her gin and tonic flew forward while she toppled backward off the stool and landed on the dirty floor.
And then in the blink of an eye, everything around me sped up as the reality of what I’d done came crashing down. Scurrying off the stool, I almost lost my footing when I reached to help her up but she slapped my hand away and moved to adjust her dress.
Which was when two large guys—both taller and more heavily built than I was—rushed over and threatened me. Before I knew what was happening, the larger of the two thrust his big, meaty palms against my chest and sent me careening. And then I was falling arse over tit into a different group of guys who’d come to investigate the commotion.
“We got this O’Shaughnessy,” one of them announced proudly as six or seven others dressed in my team colors surrounded me.
Across the pub people were screaming, while others were being shoved this way and that. Meanwhile, I was being manhandled to the back of the crowd and pushed out the rear door. Once safely in the alley, the bartender shook me roughly.
“What the fuck’s your problem Declan?” Mick demanded. When the door opened behind us, he looked up to see who had followed us. “I got this,” he said, nudging his chin my direction. “Take care of the bird and get those other guys out of here.”
Whoever he was talking to said something that sounded suspiciously like, “The guards are on their way.”
Mick swore and barked, “Stay here,” his voice brooking no disagreement.
I leaned my head back against the brick wall and took a few deep breaths as I tried to make the world quit spinning. When M
ick returned a few minutes later with a bottle of water and a couple of paracetamol, he shoved them my way. “Drink this and take the pills. You’re going to have a vicious hangover in the morning.”
He went to leave but then turned back to me, his face full of anger and frustration. “And get your shit together, Declan. You’ve got people counting on you.”
I blinked and when I opened my eyes he’d disappeared, leaving me standing in a garbage-strewn alley that reeked of urine and broken dreams.
You would have thought after that night I might have laid off the booze. You would have been wrong. Instead of sobering up, I drank even more in hopes of dampening the emptiness I felt inside but the beer and whiskey only made things worse. And now I didn’t know which hurt more—my head or my body.
The truth was, it was neither. My heart was what hurt the most.
In these dark, drunken moments, I thought about Sophie, about how things could have been between us if only she’d believed me. I understood why she hadn’t, which did nothing to lessen my anguish. More than once I’d started to respond to Sophie’s text about Aoife’s visit— tell her I’d been talking out my ass, beg her to give me another chance—only to give up and throw my phone across the room.
The other night had been a blur, but one thing had stood out crystal clear in the light of day: I wasn’t good enough for her. The woman at the bar couldn’t hold a candle to Sophie but I’d been tempted to fuck her anyway. I hated that I’d accidentally gotten violent with her, but what had followed had been a blessing in disguise. Because temptation was one thing; acting on that temptation was an entirely other thing. And so far I had a clean record. I hadn’t cheated on Sophie—ever—and I could go to my grave knowing it. I just wished I could make her see it too.
Grabbing an unopened bottle of whiskey, I popped the cork and fell into bed with my laptop. I didn’t even bother to bring a glass this time. An hour later and half a bottle in, too drunk to worry about grammar or punctuation, I poured my heart out in an email.
Trying Sophie: A Dublin Rugby Romance Page 33