‘About me, I meant. Us.’ His words came out sounding grumpy, but he didn’t mean them to. It was the frustration humming through his body coupled with the nervous, tentative joy he felt in his heart. ‘Our future.’
April kept eating, and Cillian huffed through his lips. She laughed.
‘You really are a petulant little thing sometimes, aren’t you, for an alpha male?’ She raised one brow at him before dipping a chip in ketchup and popping it into her mouth. His Girl Next Door.
‘I am not an “alpha male”,’ he retorted, air quoting ‘alpha male’ and flicking a bit of fish onto her top. She flicked it back at him, missing him entirely and landing it expertly on a young boy from the next table.
‘Sorry,’ she said, flushing as the mother of the boy looked at her as though she was deciding how to ensure she was dispatched from the earth. ‘Really sorry.’ She hunched down in the booth, moving closer so that the boy and his family were out of her view. She began eating her food with gusto, and Cillian noticed the change in her.
‘It was an accident,’ he said, a little louder than needed. ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it.’ He said this quieter, leaning in towards her till their lips were almost touching. April smiled sadly and moved away till their bodies were just out of reach. She started eating her food again, but the moment was irrevocably lost. Cillian scrambled to save it.
‘On Sunday, when we are both off for the afternoon, what are you doing?’
She frowned, just for a moment before recovering. ‘I have two staff interviews in the morning, but other than that …’ She thought for a moment. ‘I was pretty much planning to update the bookings diary and then read a few books. Why?’
She looked at him, and the tension was there once more. ‘Come to the beach with me.’ Just the word beach and April’s features lit up. ‘And Orla.’
To her credit, she didn’t run for the hills, or grimace, but the look was still a tell. He felt as though his heart had stopped for a second, and then it raced to get back into rhythm. It made him feel lightheaded. What happened?
***
‘I don’t think so Cillian.’ She shook her head, only stopping when she saw how upset he looked. It sounded perfect, but God knew, it wouldn’t end well. What if she face-planted onto the beach, or worse? Face-planting into the sand, with Orla underneath. She was a bumbling idiot around kids, and she had been feeling more relaxed but look at today. She was a bumbling idiot once more, and now so much was at stake. They’d been so close. If she messed with Orla’s life, with Tina getting herself together and obviously still harbouring something for Cillian? How could it end well? She loved being in their family home, with Orla’s things around and Cillian’s little notes for her on the bathroom mirror.
Brush your teeth, kid
You can do it, Orla
Love you, love Daddy xxx
She loved the domesticity of their home, but more than that, she loved how he was with her. She’d sometimes wake in the night, and before April had had a chance to rouse him, he was already up and out the door, heading to Orla’s side. April would lie in the dark, listening to him settle her back to sleep. Always patient, never rushing or getting cross with her. He’d sing The Killers and Robbie Williams to her, and April would giggle into the pillow, or lie back silent, listening to something that was simple and beautiful. A father singing his daughter back to sleep.
Then the pangs would come, but not for a child of her own. She’d tried and sobbed too many times for that now. The pang of longing was to get out of bed and help, to take over or make hot milk. Help Orla settle, and then kiss Cillian better back in bed. Soothing his worries over his daughter. She did that part now, but the disconnect was getting wider. How long till Cillian realised that no matter how hard she tried, life would never go right for her? Duncan had always joked in the early days about getting their strapping sons and porcelain princesses fitted at birth with armour, so their Calamity Jane mother wouldn’t bungle their early years with her awkward foolish ways. The joke soon ran thin, and then cut with a knife-like level of cruelty in the end, when they realised it would just be the two of them, and Duncan’s eyes looked anywhere but in her direction.
‘Why not?’ he asked, his face set in a closed-off expression. He was mad; she got it. So was she. She was about to walk away from something that she really wanted, and it made her feel so wretched. ‘It’s only a day out. I know we said that we were going to keep things as they are, but we can’t really. Can we? Come on, April, we’ve both been feeling a lot more.’
The food was almost gone now, and April wanted the whole day to be over. She’d managed to get Martha to the gallery, and now look what had happened. Cillian was a maelstrom of emotions, and saying all the right things, but all April wanted to do was slip out. All she could see was a lifetime of awkwardly patting heads and fending off questions about whether Orla was going to get a little brother or sister. Cillian deserved a woman who loved him, who could give him more children. More importantly, Orla deserved a mother. A proper one, and April just didn’t feel that she could bear ever upsetting that little girl. She deserved better, they both did. She realised belatedly that Cillian had asked her a question and was waiting for an answer.
‘I don’t think I can do it,’ she said, as honestly as she could. ‘Sorry, Cillian.’ Putting
