Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Disgusting,” Rowan says but she’s got a big smile on her face.
And sitting there, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced warmth like this before. I never imagined I’d find it in a place like this, at a time like this, when there’s a war happening outside our walls and armed men wandering the halls. Blood’s smeared all over the ground, there’s death in the soil, and here these people are finding ways to make each other happy.
I sink into it the best I can. I laugh as Cathal tells stories about Connor’s childhood. Danielle and Rowan pitch in, talking about Connor’s teenage years—(“I was never sure he’d end up coming home each night, but there he was, pockets filled with cash and blood on his sneakers. That’s my boy.”)—right up into his ascension to the boss of the Maguire clan, and how everything changed for them after that.
“Dad was never a big part of the family,” Rowan explains, and Cathal doesn’t deny it. “He’s still not really, so it was strange when Connor fell into his position, you know? I didn’t really even understand what the Maguires were, aside from my shady cousins.”
“The role changed him,” Cathal says gravely. “He doesn’t smile as much anymore.”
“Did he ever?” Danielle mutters.
“It seems like he has a lot of responsibility,” I say, leaning on my elbows, soaking it all in. “That’s got to be hard.”
“It is.” Cathal cuts his eyes at Danielle and gives her a silencing look. “Connor works hard. He cares about this family more than anything in the world. Which is why I know marrying you was important to him.”
I look down at my hands, at the ring on my finger. “I never meant to cause so much trouble.”
“We know that.” Cathal comes around the island and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Nobody blames you for any of this. Connor did what he did because he felt it was right. Say what you will, but that’s always been his biggest flaw, right, darling?”
“I can name a few others,” Danielle says sweetly.
“Dad’s right,” Rowan says, nudging her mom with her elbow, who grudgingly agrees.
“So if you’re feeling some kind of way about all this, stop right there.” Cathal squeezes my shoulder. “We have your back.”
I don’t know what comes over me. I burst into tears, sobbing so intensely and abruptly that Cathal takes a step back in shock. I apologize, covering my face, but the women immediately come over. Danielle rubs my back and Rowan hugs me tight.
“Pregnancy hormones,” I say, sniffling when I’ve finally got myself under control. “I’m sorry. That was a lot.”
“No apologies needed,” Danielle says firmly. “Trust me, when I was pregnant with Rowie, I was a total wreck.”
“It’s true,” Cathal says. “I caught her crying to an underwear commercial one time. Full-on meltdown.”
I get myself together, only a bit embarrassed. Cathal starts putting together pasta salad and Danielle pours more prosecco. Rowan tries to get me to dye my hair again, but I’m too worried I’ll look stupid and turn her down. They talk about normal things: what to watch later, plans for the next day, worries for the coming weeks, and they don’t make me feel like an outsider, even though that’s what I am.
Yes, it’s true, I saved Rowan’s life a long time ago. She’s got those scars, but she’s alive because of me. Except they don’t owe me anything for it, and now I’ve brought so much worse to their doorstep, made them prisoners in this big house along with me, trapped here because of the war I started. They can make excuses, say Connor did what he did and I have nothing to worry about, but I know deep down these people are suffering because of me, and I wish I could do something to stop it.
“Is my wife hiding in here?” His voice cuts through the laughter leftover from another Cathal story about Connor punching a kid in the face during a soccer game when they were seven. He appears in the doorway, looking unhappy, or maybe that’s his default expression.
“I’m cooking,” Cathal says, waving to his son. “And getting to know your wife.”
“Seems more like you’re telling her stories about me.” Connor approaches, glowering. “You better not have brought up the fucking pee spider again.”
“Oh my god! I forgot about that!” Danielle claps her hands together. “Cathal, tell her the pee spider story!”
“Another time.” Connor takes my arm possessively.
“Wait, no, I want to hear it.” I bat my eyes at him dreamily. “Please, husband?”
“No. You’re done here.”
“Typical Connor spoiling the fun,” Danielle says, rolling her eyes. She walks away and plops back down onto the couch with a glass of prosecco in her hand.
“You have an appointment.” Connor’s tone softens as he helps me to my feet.
“What are you talking about?”