Mrs. Filan’s problem is certainly not her mind. The woman’s smart as a whip and sharp as ever. She’s also got a killer memory. She was only put in this home because her children just didn’t want to deal with her.
And after spending a couple of hours with her, it’s easy to understand why.
I falter a little. “Oh, um… right. Well, I’m married.”
She glares at me as I try and avoid her gaze.
“Did you forget you were married?” she asks sarcastically.
“I wish I could forget,” I murmur.
Instantly, I regret it. Talking shit about Tristan is never a good thing. What if it gets back to him somehow?
I know I’m being paranoid and fearful even thinking it, but what can I say? I’ve become paranoid and fearful over the years.
Maybe that’s another reason I think about Cillian so often.
Because the last time I was brave—really, truly brave—was with him.
“Interesting,” Mrs. Filan croaks. “You don’t love him?”
“I do,” I say quickly, praying she doesn’t decide to go and gossip to Pa about this tomorrow. “I do love him. I just… We’ve been married a long time.”
“Any kids?” she asks.
“No.”
She eyes my waist. “I can see that,” she says. “Good. Don’t bother having children. They’re fooking useless.”
I frown. “Why do you say that?”
“I gave birth to three children,” she tells me. “And yet here I am, getting a bath from a stranger who can’t even remember if she’s married or not. What do you call that?”
“Karma?” I offer before I can stop myself.
What the fuck is wrong with me today?
Unfortunately, Mrs. Filan is not known for humor. Particularly not when it’s directed at her.
Her jaw drops, then stiffens into a nasty sneer. “I asked for the other girl, you know. The younger, prettier one. I want her next time.”
Suddenly, I’ve had it. I’ve reached my limit today.
“You know what?” I say, leaping to my feet and dropping the sponge so that it plunks down in the tub and splashes Mrs. Filan full in the face. “If that’s what you want, I’ll just go get her right now.”
“You splashed me.”
“It’s just water,” I snap at her. “You’ll survive.”
She yells at my back, but I don’t stop long enough to hear the rest of her tirade.
I shouldn’t be leaving her in the tub alone. She could slip and fall and break a hip trying to clamber out. That’s a common occurrence around here.
But I just need to get away from those ugly, invasive eyes.
I’m so damn close to shattering into pieces.
I spot Shane in the lobby and I wave to him. At almost six foot-five, the man’s hard to miss.