I smirk as we roll down the streets of Dublin. I stare out the window, trying to soak it all in.
There are many things that have changed. Many things that have stayed the same.
I feel a little tug of irritation and regret every time I see a new building, a new sign, an up-and-coming apartment building. As if none of this should have happened without my explicit permission.
But I take comfort in the stuff that’s still exactly how I remember it.
The old pubs. The gardens dotted amidst the concrete jungle. The people.
“I can’t believe we’re going back to the scene of the fucking crime,” Kian says, shaking his head in disbelief.
“No one will expect me to ever go back there,” I reason. “We’ll be safe.”
“You were always a fucking dreamer.”
I twist my neck towards him. “Careful,” I say. “You’re starting to sound like Da, too.”
“Fuck you, mate.”
I smirk. “I tell you the truth because I love you.”
“Is that so?” he drawls. “Well, allow me to return the favor. You want to go back to the Free Canary because it’s the last place you were truly happy.”
I freeze with the shock of his words.
They’re so fucking true that it actually takes me by surprise.
“Yeah,” Kian replies with a curt nod. “I know things.” His voice is dark. Guarded. But his eyes are searching my face for confirmation.
“How?”
Kian shrugs. “I’m good at reading people. And I’ve had years to analyze what happened that night. Years trying to dissect that incident, to try and figure out why you did what you did.”
“Was it worth it?”
I try to figure out if there’s bitterness in his tone, but if there is, I can’t hear it.
I don’t have to think about my answer, though. “Yes. It was worth it.”
Kian nods. “She must have been something.”
“She was fucking everything.”
We fall into a restless silence after that.
I can sense the fast-moving twist of Kian’s thoughts. He reminds me of so many people at once. He reminds me of Ma on her good days. Da on his bad ones.
He reminds me of Sean when he was happy.
* * *
When we get to The Free Canary, it’s as if we’ve gone back in time. I start to feel like that eighteen-year-old kid again, poised for the adventure of a lifetime.
Of course, the adventure had turned into a nightmare.
But that’s the risk you take when you decide you want excitement.
The alternative is boredom.