Chapter 34: Fifth Avenue Fling: Chapter 34

Turns out, annoyingly, that Tommy was right. The day Orla had her exam was the last good day of summer.

It’s been pissing down ever since. The longest stretch of consecutive rain we’ve had in five years, and everyone is droning on about it.

And people wonder why thousands of Irish flock to Australia and America every year.

Still, the shite weather has given me the drive I need to focus on my new online small-business course. I managed to blag a sweet discount. It’s perfect for folks like me who want to start their own business but lack the knowledge and confidence.

A florist and a plumber are also doing it, and they are just as confused as me on some of the admin stuff. Not gonna lie, it’s tough. I thought I’d enjoy the marketing side, but I struggle with it, and don’t get me started on tax shit.

One day, I’m determined to give it another shot, but this time, I’m taking it slow so I can really understand each part of running a business.

And today is my last day working at the furniture store. Tomorrow, I fly to London. I’ve decided to give it a shot. My cousin Michelle lives over there, and I can stay with her until I get a job, and I’ll continue my course remotely.

New York seems like a lifetime ago now.

“Clodagh, take this out the front, will you?” Tommy asks me, handing me the finished stool.

“Sure thing.” I grab it from him and saunter out of the workshop to the shop.

Mam is pressed against the window, peering out with two women from the village.

“What are you three doing?”

Outside, there’s a high-pitched whirring sound. The sound is low, but it’s getting significantly louder.

“There’s a helicopter. It looks like it’s about to land on top of the school. Will it be able to land in the rain?”

“So? It’s not like we don’t get helicopters occasionally.” I roll my eyes and come toward the window. You’d think it was aliens.

A black helicopter hovers. It disappears over the top of the shop.

“Show’s over,” I say.

Five minutes later, there’s shouting outside.

Mam and her friends, who have been chattering for the last hour, run to the window. Out of sheer boredom, I follow.

The street is full of people. There would be nothing unusual about that if this were New York. But for a Tuesday afternoon in my sleepy village, this is a rare phenomenon. And it’s drizzling outside.

“Some gobshite just landed a fucking helicopter,” a man in wellies who looks severely pissed off shouts to another guy. “The animals are going nuts.”

More people gather. At the far end of the street, I see the helicopter right in the middle of the green. The propellers slow to a halt.

“Who is it?” I ask no one in particular. A trickle of fear runs through me.

And hope.

Killian?

Of course it’s not Killian, I huff to myself. Stop dreaming. Hope is a dangerous emotion. Why would he be here? It’s morning in New York, and Killian is having breakfast made by his new nanny maid. Or worse, but I can’t bear to think about it.

“Is it the army?” someone asks behind me.

My pulse quickens as the propellers come to a complete standstill. The side door cracks open, and a tall figure wearing aviators steps out.

My heart jumps into my fucking throat. My pulse goes from resting to racing in a nanosecond.

He’s too far away to see his face clearly, but it’s him. I know it’s him. Even if he were a hundred miles away, I’d know it was him.

The other side opens, and Teagan steps out, wrapping her coat around her.

“Who the hell is that?” one of Mam’s friends asks. Her voice sounds like she’s far away, but she’s standing beside me.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

My heartbeat is in my ears, like a drumstick bashing against my brain. That’s all I can hear.

Mam shrugs. “The president?”

“Don’t be silly. It has to be Michael Tierney, the owner of the golf resort.”

I watch as Killian stretches his legs outside the helicopter and talks to the pilot. It’s like watching a movie. This can’t be real. A few people approach him, and he says something to them.

My heart is hammering so badly that I’m going to have a heart attack. What are they doing here?

The guy with Killian points down the street. This way… he’s pointing this way.

Oh my fucking God.

This is the part of the movie when someone screams, run!

I quickly glance at my dungarees and apron covered in dust and varnish. I imagined this moment so many times in my head. Longed for it. Prayed for it.

But now that it’s happening, I want to vanish.

He hasn’t spotted me yet; I’m hidden behind two farmers. His expression gives nothing away. Not from this far away, anyway.

Teagan pops her gum as they walk down the street and points excitedly to the arts and crafts store.

Any minute now, Killian will see me.

I can’t do this; I can’t face him in my hometown. I want to flee down the street or hide somewhere.

In fact…

I scuttle over to the side and take cover behind a row of garbage cans next to the furniture store. I’m not good at thinking on my feet when I have to make a fast decision, so this is the best I’ve got.

“Clodagh?” Mam bleats from the street. “What are you doing?”

“Shush, woman!” I hiss, hunkering down. I just need to wait a few minutes, and they’ll pass. “Don’t say my name.”

“Is she going to the toilet?” her friend asks really, really loudly.

Be quiet, women. I think I am going to wet myself.

Mam shakes her head at me and then turns back to her friend. “She’s been acting weird since she returned from New York. I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and attempt to slow my racing heartbeat.

A loud voice booms, “Clodagh, what are you doing down there?”

I open my eyes to see Tommy pushing away the bins to reveal me cowering in the corner.

My heart sinks. The bin plan was a big mistake.

Huge.

When will I see some of this fucking luck of the Irish? It’s not even collection day. What’s he playing at? Now I’m just squatting down on the ground with my arms hugging my knees like an idiot.

“Clodagh?”

“Killian?” I squawk from my position on the ground, perched like a weird bird. I don’t know why I asked it as a question; maybe because he did.

I stare up at him, frozen in confusion. It’s been so long since I heard that low drawl in real life. I had watched interviews with him online as a form of torture a few times. But now the sound of his actual voice knocks the wind out of me.

He extends his hand to pull me up. It takes a minute for my brain to process how to stand. I hope I don’t smell like the bins.

He smiles softly. Something that looks like nerves flashes across his face. “If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you were hiding from me.”

Teagan rushes toward me and envelops me in a hug. The gesture is a much-needed break from the intensity of seeing Killian.

“Hey, Clodagh!”

“Hey! What a nice surprise. I’ve missed you,” I say into her hair and mean it. If you had asked me on our first day of meeting if I expected to be doing this, I would have laughed in disbelief.

I pull away from Teagan and look between the two of them, my chest tight with confusion and tension. Why didn’t she tell me she was coming here?

Killian clears his throat uncomfortably and looks at Teagan. “Sweetheart, can you give us a moment? Then you can talk to Clodagh. Stay close.”

She pops a large bubble with her chewing gum. “I’ll be over at the crafts store. But hurry up, Dad.”

I glare at Mam and her entourage. “Mam, can you also leave us?”

Her eyes are nearly hanging out of her head. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

I’m perturbed to observe that she casts Killian a gaze of mild arousal.

“Nope,” I say, motioning for him to follow me down the street away from them.

Once we’re out of earshot, I turn to him. “Are you here on holiday?”

His lips curl into a soft smile as he holds my gaze for a few seconds. “Of sorts.”

I nod, working hard not to let my frozen smile slip. I don’t know how to react.

I’m standing at the edge of a cliff. One misstep and I’ll become completely undone, pounding my fists on the ground and howling like a madwoman.

“That’s nice,” I force out, my voice barely creaking past the lump in my throat. “You should drive along the Wild Atlantic Way. It’s great to see the sights. Or see it by helicopter. However you’re getting around.”

He drags his hand through his hair, now darkened from the rain. “I’m going to cut to the chase.”

Heart pounding, I stand still and stare at him. “Go ahead.”

“I made a mistake. A huge mistake.” He looks down at me with those same icy-blue eyes that have haunted my dreams since I left New York. “One I’ve regretted ever since.” Up close, under his eyes looks dark from lack of sleep. “I should never have ended things between us.”

“Are you telling me this while swinging by on your way to the coast or something?” I ask, my voice wavering.

“No. I came here to do this. I came here for you—us. That’s why I’m in Ireland.” He glances over at Teagan, who appears to have broken a vase. “Shit. That’s why we’re both here.”

That’s why he’s in Ireland?

He steps closer until he’s a breath away from me. I never thought I’d see him again now he’s here, standing in front of me. His scent hits me, and I want to reach out and take what I want. “I miss you, Clodagh. The house feels so empty without you. My life feels so empty without you. I feel empty. I’m asking you to give me another chance.” His breath hitches as he pauses. “To forgive me.”

I clench my jaw to keep back the tears threatening to escape. You broke my fucking heart, asshole. “You were the one who ended us. You don’t get to decide when you want to waltz back into my life.”

His face falls. He looks flustered. This is a first.

The urge to rush into his waiting arms and melt against his body overwhelms me. But then I remember the expression on his face that day in the office. Cold and detached.

No. My heart won’t survive any more breakage.

“What happens when you change your mind again and decide you don’t want to fuck the nanny?”

He winces. “It wasn’t like that. I thought I was ending it for your own good.”

“My own good?” I ask in disbelief.

“Alfred Marek attacked you because of me. You’re safer without me around.”

I snort in disbelief. “It was hardly an attack, Killian.”

“It could have been worse.”

I almost laugh. “Everything could be worse! I fell in a gravel pit when I was ten and broke my leg. It could have been worse then too. The other day, I left my straightener on in Mam’s house. That could have been way worse,” I say, throwing my hands up in frustration. “You could torment yourself thinking that way about everything.”

“I know. I have my own demons that I’m trying to conquer. I’m seeing a therapist. I don’t want to make the same mistakes I made in the past.”

“What’s changed? Why the change of heart?”

“I realized it has to be your decision whether you think we’re worth the risk.” He gives a sad smile. “And honestly, I’m selfish. I don’t want to let you go.”

“You hurt me,” I whisper.

“I’m sorry.” He tries to draw me closer, but I pull out of his reach.

“No.” I shake my head. I can’t do this again. “It’s too late now.”

He stares at me, his face clouded in anguish.

“Bullshit. It’s not too late. We’re both alive.”

It’s a bit gloomy, but I can’t argue with that.

“I’m getting a flight to London tomorrow. I want to start over there.”

All the color drains from his face. “Do you want to be with me?”

Yes.

I don’t respond.

“I’m in love with you, Clodagh. I’m so in love with you.”

I reel at his words, my heart skipping a beat. A spark of hope ignites in my chest, a fleeting feeling that threatens to overwhelm me if I allow it. My mind screams in warning not to trust him again. My heart and head are in a deadly battle, each vying for control over my fragile emotions.

I love you too, Killian Quinn.

“Why me?”

“I’ve asked myself that question many times.”

“Gee, thanks,” I say sarcastically.

“At times, you drive me up the wall. You really know how to push my buttons. You have no filter, and you do some outrageous things, and it drives my OCD insane.”

I narrow my eyes at him.

“But you’re also a beautiful, warm, intelligent woman who makes me laugh. No matter what I’m doing, I can’t help but imagine it would be more fun with you. Whether it’s sitting on the couch watching a movie or flying over Manhattan in a helicopter. You’re always at the back of my mind. I haven’t felt this way in so long, and I won’t let it go.”

A tiny squeak escapes me.

“Clodagh.” He takes my hand, and this time, I let him. I haven’t felt his touch in so long. “When we first met, you said you thought you were a good role model. Well, you’re right. You are the best influence my daughter could have.”

Another squeak. My knees are about to give out. I won’t remind him that our first meeting was actually with me on my knees with soaps and glass.

Stay strong, woman.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” I finally say.

He nods as if accepting this. As if he expected this. “I can work at winning back your trust. Answer my question. Do you want to be with me?”

Yes.

I want to say yes. I want to shout it.

Fear keeps my mouth shut. I can’t say the words.

“Do you want to go to London? Is that truly what you want?”

“Yes,” I say. No. Maybe. I don’t know. My throat is tight and full of fear. I don’t want to open my heart to him only for him to crush it again as he did before.

Fresh tears brim in my eyes. “I have to go, Killian.”

He looks so sad as he says, “Your green card to the States has been processed. You can live and work where you want. Look, I’ll give you space but don’t let this be why you don’t come back home.”

Home.

Where is home for me now?

I turn away.

“This isn’t goodbye, Clodagh. This isn’t the end of us. I’ll wait.”

***

I gaze at the flight information in a daze. The screen changes, and a gate number for my flight appears.

“British Airways flight BA4703 to London is now taking off at gate 16.”

“Are you okay, love?” the woman beside me asks, watching me in concern.

“Yeah.” I manage a nod and make my way to the departure gate.