Page 20 of Whiskey & Witches
Walking through the door to her old home, Roisin experienced a surreal moment. It was as if time had stopped and nothing had changed, yet so much was different. The place was a little messier than when she ran their household, but then Carrick could be absentminded when the writing muse took him. Likely Bridget and Cian helped keep him on schedule most days. And a child Aeden’s age couldn’t be expected to maintain order.
“Do you want to join me, tucking him in?” Carrick’s look was expectant.
Roisin grimaced. She wanted nothing more than to see Aeden snuggled down and to read him a story, but managing the narrow staircase after the day she’d had would be torturous. “It’s probably not for the best,” she said with a resigned sigh. “I’ll never get back down again.”
“I’ll help you with whatever you need, Ro.”
She almost snapped that she didn’t want or need his help, but it wouldn’t be true. She might not like it, but she absolutelydidneed assistance when it came down to it.
“He’s already asleep. I think he won’t miss me this time.” She managed to keep her voice even and to not show her torment.
“Mam,” Aeden stirred and whispered, contrary to her belief.
“What is it,mo stór?” Roisin brushed back the mop of hair from his brow.
“’S’alright.”
Her eyes burned with the sudden onslaught of tears. The consideration and acceptance, after what he’d been through, was awe-inspiring and humbling. Literally every word he spoke caused him discomfort, yet he was determined to put her at ease.
“Maybe you and I could sit for a while down here?” She’d give anything to cuddle him like she used to.
When he lunged from Carrick’s arms to hers, she almost lost her balance. Yeah, she’d be feeling that tweak in her back sooner rather than later, but she didn’t utter a word of protest and instead sent up a silent prayer of thanks to Anu as she clutched her son close. She didn’t care if his thin but exceedingly strong arms were strangling her. The feel of his little body against hers, the faint scent of the ginger and lime shampoo she’d made and batched last year, clinging to his mussed blond hair, and the fierce love pouring from him brought sobs from the deepest part of her soul.
As she sank to her knees, Carrick caught her, and they all cried as a family. Although she hated to show weakness, it was therapeutic for her to a large degree.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry,” she mindlessly repeated over and over.
When they were all depleted of emotion, they moved to the sofa—Roisin with the help of both Aeden and Carrick. Once again, she snuggled her son close as she rested her unmarred cheek on his silky head of curls.
“It is all right, isn’t it?” she murmured. “You’re not afraid, are you, my brave boy?”
The tiniest movement of Aeden’s head was his answer, and gratitude filled Roisin’s heart.
There was still a place reserved for resentment, but now was not the time to be cross with Carrickorherself. Her gaze met his where he sat on the other side of Aeden, and his eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. He looked contrite—and lost.
Roisin told herself she wouldn’t feel sympathy for him. All this angst could’ve been avoided if they’d only spoken to Aeden when she woke up. Yet the largest part of her, the one that had loved Carrick forever, wanted to offer comfort and forgiveness. His actions hadn’t been spiteful. For sure, he wasn’t wired that way, but they had hurt, all the same. And so the smaller part of her, the one that was aggrieved by the lost year, wasn’t ready to be kind.
Mostly, she couldn’t forgiveherself. She’d had a hand in all of this, too. The idea that she could uncover her attacker without help might’ve been a foolish one. Tomorrow, she’d visit the idea of telling Carrick and the O’Malleys what she suspected, and maybe a fresh perspective from them could help her see what she was missing.
“It’s late,” she said, her throat scratchy and sore. “And we all need rest. Why don’t you take Aeden upstairs, and I’ll put on the kettle?”
Her son lifted his head, fatigue showing on his thin, elfin face. For the first time since he’d arrived at her cottage, he looked at her scarred cheek. With the gentlest of touches, he traced the crisscross marks.
“Aether,” Aeden said, his voice stilted and raspy with disuse. His gaze was intense and penetrating as if he wanted to make sure she received the message.
She nodded her understanding and kissed his forehead. “Thank you. Now off to bed with you. Tomorrow will be here before we know it.”
Carrick climbed to his feet,prepared to escort Aeden upstairs, but his son violently shook his head. The glittering anger in Aeden’s stormy green eyes hurt, damned if it didn’t. But the boy had a right to his resentment. After all, Carrick had denied him a mother’s love for almost a year of his young life. It was unforgivable.
“Aeden,” Roisin called out when he’d gotten to the base of the stairway. “It’s no one’s fault. Not yours, not mine, not your da’s. What was done was done for love, not in spite. Please try to remember that, yeah?”
Aeden’s eyes glinted with unshed tears, and he gave a single nod before darting away.
“He’s got a right to his anger, Ro.”
“Yeah, I know. But you and I have enough rancor between us to last a lifetime. He doesn’t need to carry those feelings around in addition to everything else.” She eased her legs straight, then attempted to stand. Her abused body seemed to have other ideas, and she halted mid-movement.
“Will you let me help you, pet?” he asked gently, unable to stand by and do nothing to ease her suffering.
