It takes everything in me not to flinch in pain. As much as I love listening to them, it brings back more than one memory of Eamon singing to me.
“We’ll see,” I tell him. “No promises though.”
He gives me a look I can’t decipher before standing and rapping his knuckles on the table. “Be right back. Think I need another drink. You want one?”
“No, thanks.” I shake my head and hold up a finger. “Just the one, remember?”
He winks and walks away.
“What’s going on with Ro?” I mutter to Layla.
“Oh, right!” She turns to face me fully. “I forgot to tell you about that. Teagan said he got into it with Alicia and has been off ever since.”
Thinking back to my lunch date with Alicia, I wonder if Ro’s current mood has anything to do with that or if something happened while I was gone.
“Yikes,” I reply unenthusiastically before saying, “I’m going to the bathroom; I’ll be right back.”
Winding through the pub’s patrons, I slip into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I need just a moment. While I’m glad I came, I feel so overwhelmed. I finish using the restroom and am washing my hands when I hear Paddy over the PA system.
“Good evenin’, lads and lasses! Thanks so much for coming out tonight! I’ve a special treat for you! I’ve been missing me home country something fierce, so I asked our favorite Irish footballers to play a few ditties for us tonight!”
The crowd goes crazy—applauding, whistling, and hollering. Maybe I can sneak out before they start playing. It’s packed, so I can easily get lost in the throngs of people. I step out of the bathroom and make a beeline for the bar to let Alicia know I’m leaving, refusing to look at the stage. I open my mouth to say goodbye when I hear a familiar guitar cord being strummed. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a steadying breath. If this is Ro’s idea of a joke, I’ll murder him. When I open my eyes, Alicia is staring at me with tear-filled eyes, her fingers pressed against her mouth.
Then I hear a deep, familiar brogue say, “This one’s for my Ringsend Rose.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Norah
Whirling around, I see Eamon standing on stage, guitar strapped over his shoulder, eyes locked on me. I can’t breathe. It’s only been days since I’ve seen him, but I drink in every detail like a woman dying of thirst. He looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair is disheveled. The sleeves of his black Henley are pushed up to his elbows, exposing his strong forearms, the muscles flexing with each strum of the guitar. His eyes stay fixed on me as he begins singing.
“In Dublin Town there lived a girl
Fairer than the flower I’m wearin’
Rose Donoghue—all fresh and new
And I love her past all carin’
And there she goesmy Ringsend Rose
In God’s Garden there’s none rarer
And there she goes my Ringsend Rose
Dublin Town has seen none fairer.”
I stand frozen to the spot through the entirety of the song, tears spilling down my face. His gaze is full of unspoken apologies. As the song concludes, he mumbles a quick thank you to the crowd before pulling the guitar strap over his head and setting the instrument on its stand before stepping off the stage and stalking straight for me. The audience follows his every move. When he stops inches from me, the pub goes silent, but Rowan comes to the rescue and starts playing a jaunty tune.
“Alright, who’s ready for a lively version of The Last Shanty? You all know the words!” he declares.
The crowd cheers loudly and turns back to the stage, forgetting about us. Eamon reaches for my hand and leads me through the pub entrance. As soon as we’re outside, he cups my face.
“Norah,” he starts, eyes watching me earnestly. “I’m so sorry. I was the biggest arse thinking I was doing what I thought was best for you without even talking to you about it. I was wrong, so wrong. My head was all fucked up, Acushla. I don’t think there are words to convey how truly sorry I am.”
“Eamon,” I begin, wrapping my fingers around his wrists and pulling them from my face. It’s hard to think while he’s touching me. “I understand why you felt the way you did. Honestly, I do. I just don’t understand why you felt you couldn’t talk to me about it.”
He laces his fingers through mine and says, “Because I’m a fucking eejit is why. I felt so guilty about not being there for my Mam, that it clouded my better judgment. And because you’re the selfless person you are, I knew you’d give up anything to stay, and I didn’t want you to give up your life. You were so excited about Myra’s baby. How could I ask you to leave all of that?”
