"No one ever does," Bríd said kindly. "The right one comes along when you least expect it or want it."
Aisling wiped her eyes and took a shaky sip of tea.
"I feel like an idiot," she admitted. "Like the whole town’s laughing at me."
"The town can kiss my arse," Bríd said sharply. "And if anyone says a word to you about it, you send them to me. I’ll set them straight."
Despite herself, Aisling smiled.
"You are not alone, child," Bríd said. "You never were. You’ve got me. You’ve got this whole bloody house full of memories that need dusting off and setting right. You’ve got yourself. And someday, if that Gallagher boy pulls his head out of his arse, maybe you’ll have him too. But only if he proves he’s worth it."
Aisling sniffed. "You think he will?"
Bríd smiled, slow and sure. "I think if he’s half the man he looked last night while he was staring at you like you hung the bloody moon, he’ll move heaven and earth to make it right.”
He had made a promise to her, and a part of her was clinging to those words.
"But I’m not going to make it easy for him," Aisling said, lifting her chin.
Bríd chuckled. "Wouldn’t expect anything less from an O’Byrne."
Aisling sat back against the couch, exhausted, heartbroken—but a little steadier.
“What would you be doing in New York City right now?”
“I’d be trying to find a job—” she stopped. “I started the book that I wanted to write, but these last few weeks, I haven’t done a single thing on it.”
“Maybe, it’s time you took care of you. The renovations seem to be coming along. You said you’ve been cleaning out the closets. But what have you been doing for yourself?”
She gave a little chuckle as she thought of Ronan and the dates they’d gone on.
“Nothing,” she said. “You’re right. Tuesday night is reading night, and I should prepare the next chapter of my book. Go into that bar, hold my head high, and show the town that I’m still standing.”
A chuckle came from Bríd. “That’s my girl.”
Bríd picked up the now-empty plate and mug and carried them to the kitchen, bustling around like a one-woman army.
The house creaked softly around them, settling into the quiet of a Sunday afternoon.
Outside, the wind rattled the hedgerows and stirred the scent of cut grass and wild roses.
And inside, Aisling O’Byrne began, very slowly, to put her broken pieces back together. At least, now, she had a plan.
“Thanks, Bríd,” she said as the woman stood at the door. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
The woman gave a little chuckle. “You would have eventually picked yourself up off that couch and started creating hell for everyone around you.”
It was true. Even now, she wanted to do something to Séamus Gallagher. The old codger deserved to be put in his place.
CHAPTER26
The Last Drop buzzed with energy when Aisling pushed open the heavy wooden door. The warm blast of music, laughter, and the smell of beer hit her like a wave. If the town expected her to hide after what happened, they had another thing coming.
She wore her best-fitted jeans, a soft sweater that hinted at curves but didn’t screamlook at me,and just enough lipstick to say she was alive, damn it. She was here to show them all, including Ronan Gallagher, that Aisling O'Byrne wasn't some lovesick fool crawling back into the shadows.
When she spotted him, her stomach gave a stupid, traitorous flip. There he sat, across the room, a drink in his hand, brooding like some fallen Irish god. He glanced up, and when their eyes locked, the air practically snapped between them.
No smiles. No waves.
