“Can’t we do both?” she pouted.
“How are ye not hanging like hell right now?” I grouched.
She pouted again.
I was doomed.
“Come on, English, Lets go die of hypothermia because YOU want to go to the beach in fucking winter.”
She sighed and followed me silently as we skirted through the edge of the town to the harbour. I automatically passed her my phone so she could take photos to sketch from later on. I was sure I had a spare laptop lurking around the loft somewhere that she could keep uploading the photos to and work from. Safe to keep sharing the same phone. Or I could just buy her a phone, but I doubted she would want a way that man could contact her again.
As we walked over the sand dunes, I heard her exclaim from the sheer beauty of the view. It was like I was seeing it all over again, fresh and new from her point of view. The pure magic of the faint mist hanging over the sea. I kissed her cheek. “Sorry I am such a grouch today.”
She shrugged like it was no big deal, but I knew it hurt her. I was starting to tell her little traits when she was lying or semi lying about things. “You brought me to a wonderful place, that makes up for it.”
Yeah, it really didn’t, not with the tense way she was holding her body since we set off. I figured I set off a bad memory. “Ye ain’t staying too long, I am not nursing youse when ye end up with a fever, mind.”
“I just need a few pictures, promise.”
“Take a muffin with you,” I warned, holding the bag out. She nodded when she took one before I settled down on a cold sand dune to eat myself, hoping it would stop my head pounding at least a little. Watching as she took notes, and photos. She was beautiful even when she was making me do crazy things. Like walking on a beach in November. Perhaps it was the craziness that attracted me to her so much.
“English,” I shouted, “time to go, it’s far too cold to be out here in such an exposed spot.”
“Five more minutes,” she shouted back.
I rolled my eyes, getting up, brushing the sand from my jeans. I walked over to her. “English, come on, please, ye have enough pictures. I do not want you to get sick.” I wrapped my arms around her waist. “I can bring youse again when the weather is warmer, please.”
She relented, following me back along the long road towards the castle. My arm around her the whole time. I could smell the vague scent of liquor on her breath. No wonder she wasn’t hungover, she was existing in a hair of the dog moment. How had I not noticed when I kissed her earlier? I hadn’t even seen her take a drink. She must have a hip flask hidden somewhere, as well as the long term learned skills of hiding her habit. Her ex fucked her up even more than I had first thought.
The rest of the afternoon was perfectly pleasant. A tour of the castle, the tale of a circus performer that had died of a broken heart, a lazy late lunch in the café before exploring the butterfly house. The posed photos at the tower as the sun set that even I had been convinced to jump into to have a selfie of us together. It was all so breathtakingly romantic, even though I hadn’t quite planned it that way. I could tell she felt it too. That sparkle in her eyes as she kissed me on the Dart home. She was broken in so many ways, then again, so was I. Perhaps two broken people could make each other whole again?
I kissed her cheek, excusing myself to spend an evening taking interviews at the studio. Making sure before I left that she had plenty of food in the house, whatever she wanted. I was distracted through the whole evening away from Lily. Thinking about her secret and not so secret drinking problems. I would have to watch that very carefully if I wanted to keep her safe. And I knew I did.
Exhausted, I trudged back to the flat, hoping she was okay or at least as okay as she could be. My phone rang and I dragged it out my jacket pocket, panicking it was her with a problem even though I knew that she had no phone. A withheld number, this wasn’t good. “What?” I snapped. Was she alive? Or dead at the bottom of the river?
Oh great, it was the ex. Screaming more shit that I wasn’t in the mood for.
“Look, I told ye before, I ain’t letting you nowhere near that girl. You have done enough, now damn well pay her what she deserves for that art or find your nudes turning up as the front cover of every single newspaper I can get my hands on! You have a fortnight, make ye damn choice, asshole. I have no problem with publicly humiliating you.”
I slammed the call end button, staring, breathing heavily as I stared at the ink depths of the Liffey. I suddenly understood why Lily threw her phone in the waters. I was getting so damn close right now. Just to get away from that fucking asshole once again. I swore to myself that I would never get sucked into the man’s dramas after the last few times and, yet again, here I was in the middle of all that garbage. That man was fucking toxic, there was no other way of looking at it. He destroyed everything and everyone that he touched.
I slammed into the apartment, opened a bottle of whisky, and drank it straight from the bottle until I stopped shaking. I glanced
