55
The weeks fly by in a mad flurry of activity. Toxic God’s EP is getting more notice, and one of their songs is getting decent airplay on some Irish radio stations. Things are definitely picking up for the band. They are playing three to four events a week now, and the crowd is getting bigger and their following is growing.
One of Glen Hansard’s US contacts has reached out—an A&R scout who works for a major record label—and it sounds promising. Apparently, he loves the stuff he has listened to. He’s due to arrive in Dublin in three weeks to see them perform live, and he wants to talk to them about their future. The guys are freaking out. Giddy with excitement. But I sense reticence within Dillon. Of course, when I ask, he deflects my questions, and eventually, I let it drop.
In between events, Dillon and I wander the Irish countryside on his motorcycle. I’ve kissed the Blarney Stone, explored the incredibleTitanicmuseum in Belfast with my jaw trailing the floor, marveled at the Stone Age tombs and passageways at Newgrange, and given in to my inner sex goddess when I let Dillon fuck me against the cross on the top of Bray Head under the shadow of night.
It’s just as well I’m not religious or I might have been struck down for that last one.
We’ve gone camping with our friends in the Wicklow Mountains, ridden bicycles around the Sally Gap, hiked the Sugarloaf Mountain, watched a few GAA matches, and attended a three-day music festival in Marlay Park, which was basically a three-day-long drink-and-weed-athon.
The highlight of my Ireland trip was definitely the Cliffs of Moher. Words don’t exist in our vocabulary to describe the rugged beauty of the landscape because it was a truly magical, breathtaking, out-of-this-world experience. We spent a full day there, touring the visitor’s center, walking the pathways on either side of the cliff, and I was even brave enough to lie down flat on my belly on the slab front, beside Dillon, while we stared over the ledge. Most visitors stayed back, and we were among the few crazies peering down the steep edge of the cliff side. It was an incredible rush, and an impressive lesson in the true wonder of Mother Nature. It was only later, back in our hotel room, I discovered some tourists have actually died there. It was a sobering moment, and I doubt I’d have been so brave if I’d known that at the time.
My parents’ visit rolled around fast, and we had a fantastic week together exploring Cork and Kerry and driving along the Wild Atlantic Way. Audrey traveled with my parents, and it was amazing to see her. I have really missed her. Initially, she was planning on spending more time in Ireland with me, but I’m on borrowed time with Dillon, and now she’s back together with Alex, we came to a mutual understanding it was best if we spent this summer apart. We still got to spend quality time together during the week, which was amazing, if a little strained.
Ash came to Cork and Kerry with us, and things were a teeny bit awkward between her and Audrey. Ash is naturally Team Dillon, and while Audrey has nothing against her brother, she is clearly rooting for Team Reeve. I really don’t understand why. She’s been pretty tight-lipped, and all she has said is he’s missing me, working hard to make amends, and she has her reasons for suggesting I don’t rule him out. Part of me is incredibly upset with her, even though she insists she is firmly on my side. Not wanting to fight with her over it, I suggested we agree to shelve all talk of men on our trip, and just enjoy ourselves.
That suited me fine as I was still annoyed with Dillon over his outright refusal to meet my parents. Apparently, he doesn’t “do the parents thing.” It stung. Especially after he’d been so romantic in the weeks leading up to my parents’ arrival. It’s not like I asked him to travel with us. I knew he couldn’t take a full week off with his band commitments, but would it have killed him to come for lunch with his mom and Ash? Ash claims he’s in love with me and that has him scared shitless, but it’s no excuse for being rude.
Mom didn’t say anything, but I could tell she wasn’t impressed, even if she loved Cath and they hit it off from the get-go.
Honestly, Dillon gives me a severe case of emotional whiplash at times. He turns hot and cold as often as the Irish weather, and I still can’t figure him out.
Nonetheless, I love him and his stupid stubborn ass.
Finally allowing myself to accept what I’ve known for some time was both liberating and crushing in equal measure. Reeve is still there, still claiming a piece of my heart, and I suspect he always will. It’s not like I can just switch off feelings I’ve nurtured for years with the snap of my fingers. They are like my memories in that regard. An inherent part of me, and no amount of denial will force them away.
I have always been skeptical of love triangles in books and movies, struggling to understand how someone could love another man when they’re already so much in love with someone. However, I know now I was naïve to believe it doesn’t exist. Now I’ve had cause to seriously think about the subject, it makes perfect sense. I love my momandmy dad. I love both my besties. When I have children, I imagine I will love them all with the fullness of my heart. So, it stands to reason I can love two men at the same time. I just never looked at it like that before.
I want to hate Reeve for the things he’s done that have hurt me, and for splitting us up, but how can I hate him when his actions have led me to this point?
Coming to Ireland has undoubtedly changed me. I feel like I have found myself and found my way. I have discovered aspects of my personality that have never had the time to flourish, and Dillon has helped to coax those parts of me to life. I am stronger and more confident to go after what I want—to demand things that will fulfill me and to not let anyone stand in my way or tell me my desires don’t matter.
Dillon has awakened a side of me I never knew existed, and I wish I could continue this journey of self-discovery with him because he brings me immense joy. He pisses me the hell off at times too, but what we have is so very real. This is a no-holds-barred love, and while we haven’t said those three words, we both feel it and live it every day.
Our love is an intense fiery passion, a soul-deep connection that kicked into place the instant we laid eyes on one another, and while similar in some regards, it is also vastly different to what I had with Reeve.
Dillon loves me with a fierceness that scares us both. His need is all-consuming, and all it takes is one look and we fall into one another, lost to everyone and everything that isn’t us. Ours is a love that could raze kingdoms and burn worlds, and that realization is as terrifying as it is exhilarating.
Neither of us has said the words out loud, but as our inevitable separation looms in the near future, I’m struggling to not break down in tears. How will I ever leave this man? Yet, in ten days, it will happen. The very thought of it feels like a stake has been driven through my heart.
“Earth to Hollywood.” Dillon grazes his teeth along my neck, pulling me out of my depressive thoughts. “You look like you’ve been in your own little world.”
Hearty laughter and boisterous conversation surround us in the busy pub as the bartender calls out last orders. The guitarist entertaining us with her gorgeous voice and dry wit is packing up her stuff, but no one else is making any move to leave. Our friends are still huddled around the table, joking and drinking.
Resting my head on his shoulder, I snuggle into his side. “I was just thinking back over the past few weeks. We crammed a lot in.”
His arm slides around my shoulders, holding me close. “I wanted to show you as much as possible.”Before you leave meis missing from the end of his sentence.
A heavy silence rests between us like usual lately. We are both too chickenshit to say it, but we feel it crushing our souls.
“Do you know this pub was the scene of a famous murder almost twenty-five years ago?” Dillon says, in between mouthfuls of beer.
“Now he tells me,” I deadpan. A shiver tiptoes down my spine. “If you tell me some ghost haunts this place, I’m out of here.”
“Two ghosts,” Jamie pipes up, clearly eavesdropping on our conversation. “If you count the Black Widow. She died a few years ago in prison.”
“She actually died in a hospice,” Dillon clarifies. “They had moved her there when her cancer progressed and they knew she was close to death.”