"I was just calling to see how things were going?"
"Hang on," he says, and I wait a few moments. His voice is louder when he says, "Sorry I haven't called."
"That's okay. I was just getting ready to go to bed and wanted to see if you were still coming over tonight."
He sighs, and I can envision him combing his fingers through his hair. "I don't think tonight's going to be good. She's having a really rough time and I hate to abandon her right now."
"Sure," I say confidently. "That's not a problem. I hope everything goes well."
Before he can answer, I hear Maeve in the background. "Cillian, please come back in here," and something about her tone of voice grates on my nerves. It sounds whining with a hint of sexuality to it. Maybe I'm imagining it, but I don't think so.
"Look... I got to go," he says abruptly, whispering again. "I'll call you in the morning."
And then he hangs up without even saying goodbye.
I put my phone down, staring at it for a long while. Dread gnaws at my stomach, and I can't help but feel that I'm stuck in some spider's sticky web created by Maeve.
I'm hurt he was whispering to me as if he was ashamed I was on the phone. I hate he didn't say goodbye to me. I hate that she called out to him as if her needs were far superior to anyone else's.
Most of all, I hate that I feel any of this, because when it boils down to it, Maeve has a serious problem and I'm ashamed that I'm jealous of her time with Cillian.
CHAPTER 20
Cillian
I disconnect the call to Renner and grip it tightly. I want to hurl my phone into the wall; I'm so angry and frustrated right now.
I'm angry at Maeve. I'm pissed because she has a problem, and I'm the one that has to deal with it. I know that's unfair to her, but I'm fucking pissed all the same. I hate her weakness, the same way I hated it in my Da. I've been sitting here for almost six fucking hours trying to talk sense into her, and it's going nowhere.
When I first arrived at her apartment, she was a mess. She was sobbing and lamenting about her life. At first, it was about the stresses with the band, and then it was about me and how she missed what we had. She even had the nerve to tell me that she was stressed because she was worried about my relationship with Renner, and she wasn't sure that she was the girl for me.
She could tell that pissed me off, particularly when I told her that I wouldn't listen to her badmouth Renner. I almost walked out on her, but then she started backpedaling. She apologized, and then wanted to tell me all about her crappy life.
She'd never shared in the past with me much of the details as to why she was estranged from her parents, but surprise of surprises, it was because they were both alcoholics and it was far worse than I could have imagined. I listed with acid churning as she told me her father would molest her when he was drunk, and that her mother knew about it and did nothing to stop it. I sat and listened to her patiently, my heart sick with how much she suffered. I also commiserated because I know something about the subject of alcoholism and abuse, although she doesn't know just how much.
I'm also angry with myself, because as I sat there and listened to Maeve pour her heart out to me, I actually zoned out a few times and thought about Renner. But then I would shake my head and focus back on Maeve because she needed someone to listen to her. Her experiences are different than mine, but just as traumatizing in a very different way.
Just when I thought I had her calmed down... just when I thought I could make my break so I could go be with Renner, she would start a fresh round of sobs that had me trying to back her down off the ledge again.
I had stepped into the living room to take Renner's call, hoping for a little privacy. I had wanted to stay on that call with Renner for as long as possible, because just her voice coated me like a balm. Then Maeve's voice echoed out from the bedroom, calling me back into her personal nightmare.
Shoving my phone in my pocket, I make my way back there. She's been lying in her bed since I got here and my back is killing me from perching on the edge of it as we talk. I alternately pat her leg or reach over to the nightstand to grab some tissues for her to wipe her eyes.
Staring down at her now as she lays there, my heart lurches for Maeve's misery. She looks so lost and fragile--I'm suddenly terrified that nothing I say or do will make much of a difference in the long run. But what I have to remember is that I just need to get her through this day, and hopefully tomorrow will be better for her.
"Who was that?" she asks, in a somewhat petulant voice.
"Renner," I say quietly.
"Oh. Well, if you need to go be with her, I understand. I've taken up enough of your time."
For a split second, I think I might just make it over to Renner's tonight, that Maeve is actually feeling okay enough for me to leave. But her statement is punctuated by a tiny sob, and I sigh inwardly. This is going to be a long night.
***
Fuck, I feel like shit this morning.
It's almost 9:00AM as I enter my apartment building and head to the lift. Maeve had kept me up until almost 3:00AM. When I finally convinced her to go to sleep, I stumbled out into her living room and crashed on her couch. I had been through the emotional ringer with her and I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
When I woke up, she was in her kitchen, cooking breakfast. She looked bright and cheery, and even gave me a kiss on the cheek. She'd tried to get me to stay for breakfast, but all I could think about was getting out of there and making my way to Renner. She looked pissed I wouldn't stay, and even stuck her lower lip out, but I wasn't having any of it. I'd provided the support she so desperately needed and she needed to get through some of this on her own strength.
I figure I'll grab a quick shower then head over to Renner's. I'm hoping she didn't agree to go into work and we can at least spend the day and night together. I'd kill to just veg out on the couch and watch movies all day with her.
As I exit the lift, I look in surprise at my door. Renner is sitting on the floor, her back resting up against it. She has two Styrofoam cups and a white bag.
"Hey," I say, my heart lifting with happiness that she's here.
She stands up and wipes her hands on her jeans. "Where have you been?"
I glance down at myself and see that I'm wearing the same clothes I had on when I dropped her off at her apartment yesterday. I know what conclusion she's going to jump to before she even makes the final leap.
"It's not what you think," I assure her.
"You stayed at Maeve's place last night."
"Okay, it is what you think but I slept on the couch. Nothing happened between us," I tell her, gaging her reaction carefully. When she just stares at me, I continue, "Well, unless you count the fact I played fucking psychologist to her for almost nine straight hours. But other than that, nothing happened."
She gives me a tight smile and reaches down to the cups and bag. "I brought some tea and breakfast. Are you hungry?"
I give her back a tired smile of my own. "I'm starving. Maeve tried to get me to stay for breakfast but I couldn't get out of there fast enough."
I can see some of the tension leaves her shoulders at my words and I start to feel marginally better that she'll forgive me for abandoning her. I let her into my flat and we head into the kitchen.
She pulls the lids off the tea, handing me one. Then she pulls scones out of the bag. We both eat quietly, alternately sipping at the hot tea.
"I'm really sorry our weekend away got ruined," I tell her.
"How did it go with Maeve?" she asks.
I reach for another scone. "She's messed up, Renner. I won't tell you all the details and please don't share this with anyone... not even Cady--"
"I won't," she jumps in to assure me.
"It seems she's had a pretty traumatic past. It involves some sexual abuse by her alcoholic father and a mother who apparently didn't give a damn. She told me it went on right up until the time she moved out and she's apparently not talke
d to them ever again."
Renner's face swims in sympathy. "How is she?"
"I'm not sure. She seemed fine this morning. Cheerful even. Maybe she just needed to unburden."
Renner is silent as she nibbles on the edge of her first scone. I can't tell if she's mad or not. I press forward, trying to figure out her thoughts. "She even mentioned you. Said she didn't think you were the girl for me."
A look of worry passes over her face. "Is that all she said about me?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"No reason. Just curious is all." Her voice is soft, unassuming.
"Last night was so frustrating. I want to help her, I really do. I just don't know how to do it. I got really pissed at her last night when she brought you up, but then I feel so damn bad for her at the same time."
Renner doesn't react to that. She puts her scone down and takes a small sip of tea. "Cillian... is there any chance she could just be playing you?"
It doesn't escape my notice that her face gets red when she asks that question, a sure sign that just the thought embarrasses her.
Brushing the crumbs off my hands, I lean back in my chair. "I don't know. Maybe. But how would I know? How could I ever be sure? And she's clearly troubled."
"I guess you can't know," she says with a relenting sigh. "I guess you have to give her the benefit of the doubt."
Standing from the table, I gather the empty pastry bag and throw it in the garbage. With my back still to Renner, I say, "You know, I chose to ignore the problem with my Da. There isn't a day that doesn't go by that I wonder what might be if I had just paid attention a little better."
I can hear Renner push her chair back and then her arms are wrapped around my middle, the front of her pressed into my back. She lays her cheek in between my shoulder blades. "Don't do that to yourself, Cillian. You couldn't have prevented what your dad did. Just like you can't control what Maeve does. You can only support her."
"Maybe," I say noncommittally.
"Truly," she insists.
I turn around and wrap my arms around her. Looking down, I let myself get lost in her eyes. They are warm and understanding. "You're incredible, you know that?"
"That is something we can both agree on," she says with a smile.
Leaning down, I kiss her, so very softly. I'm deeply grateful that she understands me and understands the situation. She gives me hope that I can handle this, but I'm not sure I could do it without her by my side.
The depth of my feelings for her scares me a bit, but it also fills me with an excitement that maybe I can have a real relationship with a woman. It's something I had written off, but maybe... just maybe...
CHAPTER 21
Renner
"So what are you going to wear tonight on the big Double D?" Cady asks.
She's sitting at my kitchen table, flipping through a magazine. In typical Cady fashion, she barged in about an hour ago, helped herself to a cup of tea, and hasn't shown any signs of leaving.
Although I will have to give her credit. When the door flew open and she stepped inside, she had her hand clapped over her eyes, and called out, "Is anyone naked in here?"
I'm actually kind of glad she came over. It's nice to have someone to talk to, and I've been so absorbed in Cillian the last few weeks, I could use a nice girly chat.
"I'm not sure what to wear. We're meeting up at this nice restaurant in Bray... so maybe a little black dress?"
"Classic," she says, not even bothering to look up from the glossy pages of Elle.
The Big Double D she is referencing is a double date with Maeve and her new boyfriend. A prospect that fills me with anxiety and has me itching to pick up the phone and cancel on Cillian.
He had broached the subject with me a few nights ago.
"So, Maeve called today," he said.
It seems he starts many of our conversations that way and I had to restrain myself from grinding my teeth. "How's she doing?"
"Fine," he said. "She actually wanted to invite you and me to go on a double date with her Thursday night." The expression on his face was guarded, which told me that he also doubted that this was a good idea. I had been very careful to keep my feelings about Maeve to myself and outwardly support Cillian in his friendship with her.
"She's dating someone?"
He nodded. "This guy she used to date in secondary school. They've apparently hooked back up. She wants me to meet him."
I remember thinking to myself, She probably wants to try to make you jealous, but I immediately chastised myself for thinking so horribly. But I can't help those thoughts...the girl told me she would play dirty and now I read dirty actions into everything she does.
I've debated time and again about telling Cillian of the conversation we had in the bathroom. But I've held off, my gut instinct telling me to let it go. That it would do nothing but muddy the waters and it wouldn't be very supportive to Cillian.
So, of course I told Cillian I would love to go out with Maeve and her friend, all the while thinking that I would rather be submerged in a pit of snakes.
"So how are things going with Cillian? I swear in a million years, I never pictured you with someone like him," Cady asks as she closes the magazine and pushes it away.
I shrug my shoulders at her, refusing to meet her eyes. Cady is like a starving dog with a bone once she latches onto something. But part of me wants her to push, because I need to share some of my frustrations with her.
Things have settled into a routine with Cillian but by that, I don't mean anything is in the slightest bit boring. It's just that the relationship I have with Cillian is stable.
Funny word...stable. Because it's what I looked for all of my adult life and what I never thought Cillian would be.
I switched most of my shifts at The Hibernian to days so I could have the evenings free to be with him. We're also trying to plan another trip to Oughterard, which I'm hoping will go off without a hitch and without Maeve having a meltdown.
And Maeve seems to be the only problem with how things are going.
She hasn't overtly disrupted our evenings together with another cry for help, although she does seem to be very needy of his time. She constantly texts or calls him, and he'll patiently respond to her with words of encouragement. He told me that he's trying to get her into some type of therapy but she's bucking against it and insists she's fine.
I can't help feeling like she's a big powder keg on the verge of explosion.
"Pay attention, Renner," Cady says to me, snapping her fingers. "Why the long face? What's going on?"
Shaken back to reality, I ask her a question instead. "Why don't you picture me with someone like Cillian?"
Her gaze is shrewd when she looks at me. "He's just not your type. At least, as much as you've always talked about your ideal man... you know, the buttoned-up, dull as shit, come home every night and peck you on the cheek kind of guy you always fantasized about."
I huff a little, because she did just describe what I thought had been my ideal man. My fantasies certainly had never centered around a tattooed and pierced Irish rocker.
At least... not until now.
"People change. I guess I've changed."
"Well, try not to sound so glum about it. Aren't things going well with Cillian?"
I can't help the smile that comes to my face at just the mention of his name. He makes me happy in so many ways... happier than I've ever been with another man. "Things are going great with Cillian. That is... when he's not off trying to save Maeve from herself."
Cady snorts. She's never liked Maeve I've recently come to find out. It seems Maeve was never fond of Cady and Teagan hanging with the band over the years. It was Cady's personal opinion that she didn't like anyone taking the attention from herself.
"There's something not right about that girl," she remarks.
Trying to take the high road, I say, "She has a drinking problem and she tried to kill herself. She needs Cillian's support."
"Oh, bollocks," Cady
sneers. "She needs to get herself in rehab and spend the time she lays on her back on a shrink's couch. It's not Cillian's job to get her through this."
My heart swells with love for Cady, because she's saying the things I want to say but don't feel comfortable or secure enough with Cillian to tell him. I still feel guilty for thinking them, because I'm probably only thinking them because she interferes with my relationship with Cillian.
"You really believe that?"
"I sure do and I told him that."
"When?" I ask, startled.
"When we had lunch the other day and Maeve called him three times. I told him it was ridiculous and he should set boundaries with her."
"What did he say?"
"He told me to mind my own fucking business, so I let it go."
My heart sinks hearing that. It's probably what he would say to me then, so I vow to keep my mouth shut around Cillian. But it doesn't mean I can't confide in Cady.
"I had a run in with Maeve a while back. That night they performed at The Hibernian."
Cady's eyes go wide. "It was when you went to the bathroom, wasn't it? I knew something was wrong when you came out."
I nod and tell her the entire story, ending with a promise that she can't tell Cillian. That it's not something he needs to worry about right now.
"I don't trust her," Cady affirms. "She's playing Cillian, I just know it."
"Yeah, but she does have a problem. She's not faking that."
"True. But I think she's taking advantage of Cillian's kindness. And I don't think her end goal is to get better. I think it's to get Cillian back. Are you sure you shouldn't tell him about this?"
I shake my head. "I'm sure. Besides... they seem to be getting some great work done and I don't want to jeopardize that."
Cillian and the band have been working every day on new music, hoping to start recording next month. They all meet at his apartment and work throughout the day.
It's the main reason I switched to day shifts. Uncle Keefe eyed me strangely when I asked him for the change and then asked me slyly, "Does this have anything to do with a certain young man?"
I played stupid, which I knew ultimately would never work. "No clue what you mean?"
"Perhaps you want to spend more time with Cillian?"