Craving Resurrection
Page 68
“Not long before.”
“No,” he answered painfully, and suddenly I had to know everything.
“How long before?”
He didn’t answer, just stared at me as if memorizing my face.
“How long before, Patrick?”
“De night before Mum called and told me somet’in’ was wrong.”
The words felt like a punch to my chest, and suddenly I was afraid that I’d never be able to breathe again. I’d been so scared that night. I remembered lying in my bed, begging silently for Patrick, but too afraid to reach out. To think, just the next day I’d thought that my prayers had been answered when he’d come and taken me away.
“Yeah, not long before,” I whispered to myself.
“We were not toget’er den. If we’d been toget’er, I—”
“I was waiting for you,” I cut in, my voice barely recognizable it was so quiet. “You kissed me and said you wouldn’t fuck me because you were going to marry me first. I was devastated the night before you came home. I remember so clearly, because I hadn’t been out of my bed all day and my mom had come in to tell me that I wasn’t finding a place to live by rotting away in my bed. And then the next morning, you were there… like magic.”
The scenes played like a movie in my head, and by the time they were finished, I couldn’t help the hysterical laugh that came out of my mouth.
“I was so stupid. So fucking naïve.”
“Don’t say dat. Yer not stupid. Ye were never stupid.”
“I made comments about your experience,” I spoke over him, “I pushed you because I was angry, and the entire time you were fucking other people. No wonder you didn’t mind waiting until we were married.”
“Dat’s not how it was.”
“So fucking stupid.” I shook my head, scrubbing my hands over my face.
“It was one night. One night. Dat’s all. I was pissed—”
“You’re really going to use the drunk excuse right now? Really, Patrick?”
“I wasn’t in me right mind—” I gripped the arms of the chair, but he was off the couch and kneeling in front of me before I could push myself to my feet. “Please, Amy. Please, listen.”
I leaned back in the chair as far as I could and wrapped my arms around my chest. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. My stomach was churning and my heart was racing… but a part of me ached to know it all. I needed the details, so I could try to make sense of the whole thing.
He loved me. I knew he did. How could he do this?
“I began me night early at a pub near me flat. I was alone. I was missin’ home and me da had just come to Mum’s to tell us dat he was in trouble. Me classes were goin’ poorly and I’d just finished me exams.” His hands were gently gripping my thighs, his thumbs rubbing back and forth in an unconscious gesture. “I was havin’ a shite week. Den dese men came in de pub, and I recognized one of dem. Local IRA, not high level, but not low level eit’er. Somewhere in de middle. Dey stopped at dis table full o’women, and I couldn’t hear what was said, but one of de women stiffened and den left de bar.”
He swallowed hard and his chest began rising and falling as if he couldn’t catch his breath.
“I followed her,” he whispered, “I stopped her to ask her if she was okay. She knew me, but I didn’t recognize her. She liked me, I could tell by her body language dat she’d been watchin’ me for a while. It was so easy. I wasn’t t'inkin’ clearly, I barely remember gettin' back to me flat. But I’d seen her wit’ dose men in de bar, and in me muddled brain it had seemed like de perfect revenge. I wanted to punish dat man in de bar—fuck dem de way dey’d fucked me. It meant nuttin’! It was a mistake, but it was only one night.”
I clenched my jaw, but a raw noise of pain still burst out of my throat.
“One night, but not only once, huh?” I asked hoarsely, looking away from him.
“Forgive me,” he begged. “Please. Please. I love ye, only ye. Forgive me.”
“No.”
I didn’t look at him, but I heard his sob as his head dropped to my knees.
Chapter 35
Patrick
I made my way into the large house silently, the key Moira had given me barely making a sound as I’d unlocked the front door. There was one thing that had to be done before I left Ireland for good.
I’d expected some kind of guards or maybe even a few large dogs, but all I encountered as I made my way through the house were darkened rooms and the low hum of the furnace. I knew he was there because his car was parked in the driveway, and it amazed me how little he cared for his own safety.
I’m sure he believed he was untouchable, and in most circles he was probably considered so… but I had nothing to lose. I was leaving to go halfway across the world in a matter of hours, and in just a few days the only people I cared about would be following behind me. His reputation was no longer relevant. His arms couldn’t reach me.
I moved on silently to Moira’s room and found the bag she’d told me would be under her bed. I quickly located the music box her mother had given her as a child and stuffed it into the bottom of the bag before pulling shirts and pants from her dresser. When I got to her underthings, my stomach cramped. I shouldn’t be touching them. It was wrong. I shouldn’t be touching any woman’s underthings that weren’t my wife’s.
“No,” he answered painfully, and suddenly I had to know everything.
“How long before?”
He didn’t answer, just stared at me as if memorizing my face.
“How long before, Patrick?”
“De night before Mum called and told me somet’in’ was wrong.”
The words felt like a punch to my chest, and suddenly I was afraid that I’d never be able to breathe again. I’d been so scared that night. I remembered lying in my bed, begging silently for Patrick, but too afraid to reach out. To think, just the next day I’d thought that my prayers had been answered when he’d come and taken me away.
“Yeah, not long before,” I whispered to myself.
“We were not toget’er den. If we’d been toget’er, I—”
“I was waiting for you,” I cut in, my voice barely recognizable it was so quiet. “You kissed me and said you wouldn’t fuck me because you were going to marry me first. I was devastated the night before you came home. I remember so clearly, because I hadn’t been out of my bed all day and my mom had come in to tell me that I wasn’t finding a place to live by rotting away in my bed. And then the next morning, you were there… like magic.”
The scenes played like a movie in my head, and by the time they were finished, I couldn’t help the hysterical laugh that came out of my mouth.
“I was so stupid. So fucking naïve.”
“Don’t say dat. Yer not stupid. Ye were never stupid.”
“I made comments about your experience,” I spoke over him, “I pushed you because I was angry, and the entire time you were fucking other people. No wonder you didn’t mind waiting until we were married.”
“Dat’s not how it was.”
“So fucking stupid.” I shook my head, scrubbing my hands over my face.
“It was one night. One night. Dat’s all. I was pissed—”
“You’re really going to use the drunk excuse right now? Really, Patrick?”
“I wasn’t in me right mind—” I gripped the arms of the chair, but he was off the couch and kneeling in front of me before I could push myself to my feet. “Please, Amy. Please, listen.”
I leaned back in the chair as far as I could and wrapped my arms around my chest. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. My stomach was churning and my heart was racing… but a part of me ached to know it all. I needed the details, so I could try to make sense of the whole thing.
He loved me. I knew he did. How could he do this?
“I began me night early at a pub near me flat. I was alone. I was missin’ home and me da had just come to Mum’s to tell us dat he was in trouble. Me classes were goin’ poorly and I’d just finished me exams.” His hands were gently gripping my thighs, his thumbs rubbing back and forth in an unconscious gesture. “I was havin’ a shite week. Den dese men came in de pub, and I recognized one of dem. Local IRA, not high level, but not low level eit’er. Somewhere in de middle. Dey stopped at dis table full o’women, and I couldn’t hear what was said, but one of de women stiffened and den left de bar.”
He swallowed hard and his chest began rising and falling as if he couldn’t catch his breath.
“I followed her,” he whispered, “I stopped her to ask her if she was okay. She knew me, but I didn’t recognize her. She liked me, I could tell by her body language dat she’d been watchin’ me for a while. It was so easy. I wasn’t t'inkin’ clearly, I barely remember gettin' back to me flat. But I’d seen her wit’ dose men in de bar, and in me muddled brain it had seemed like de perfect revenge. I wanted to punish dat man in de bar—fuck dem de way dey’d fucked me. It meant nuttin’! It was a mistake, but it was only one night.”
I clenched my jaw, but a raw noise of pain still burst out of my throat.
“One night, but not only once, huh?” I asked hoarsely, looking away from him.
“Forgive me,” he begged. “Please. Please. I love ye, only ye. Forgive me.”
“No.”
I didn’t look at him, but I heard his sob as his head dropped to my knees.
Chapter 35
Patrick
I made my way into the large house silently, the key Moira had given me barely making a sound as I’d unlocked the front door. There was one thing that had to be done before I left Ireland for good.
I’d expected some kind of guards or maybe even a few large dogs, but all I encountered as I made my way through the house were darkened rooms and the low hum of the furnace. I knew he was there because his car was parked in the driveway, and it amazed me how little he cared for his own safety.
I’m sure he believed he was untouchable, and in most circles he was probably considered so… but I had nothing to lose. I was leaving to go halfway across the world in a matter of hours, and in just a few days the only people I cared about would be following behind me. His reputation was no longer relevant. His arms couldn’t reach me.
I moved on silently to Moira’s room and found the bag she’d told me would be under her bed. I quickly located the music box her mother had given her as a child and stuffed it into the bottom of the bag before pulling shirts and pants from her dresser. When I got to her underthings, my stomach cramped. I shouldn’t be touching them. It was wrong. I shouldn’t be touching any woman’s underthings that weren’t my wife’s.
