“So I think we’ll have two kids at that point,” she says, glancing at me as though she’s worried that I might start freaking out at any second.
“Two?”
“A boy and a girl,” she says. “They have your curly blond hair.”
“No,” I say so passionately that she actually flinches. I sit up and shake my head. “They’re not gonna have blond hair. They’re going to be redheads, like you.”
She smiles. “I dunno. I’m seeing two little blond kids.”
“And I’m seeing two little firecrackers,” I counter.
Her smile changes, becomes softer. Almost maternal. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like we’re talking in ifs and maybes anymore.
It feels like we’re planning for a future both of us want.
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” she says at last.
“I guess so.”
She takes a deep breath, but it sounds more like a contented sigh. “What about you?” she asks a moment later. “Where do you see yourself in ten years? What’s your version of the future?”
I feel something pierce me right in the chest. It’s uncomfortable, almost painful.
And the first thing that pops into my head is Sean’s face.
The second is my father’s.
I feel Saoirse’s hand come down on my thigh. “Cillian,” she says gently. “Where’d you go?”
Jesus.
Can you really know someone so well so soon?
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she says. “Just talk to me about it.”
“I was just thinking… my future isn’t really my own to plan for,” I admit.
Her face drops slightly. “Oh.”
I grab her hand and bring it to my lips. I kiss each finger and then I press it to my heart.
“But I know you’re a part of it. I may not know much, but I know that.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I can feel it,” I say. “I can fucking feel it, Saoirse.”
She weighs that for a long, quiet second.
“When you say your future isn’t really your own, do you mean the family business?” she asks.
I nod. “With my brother gone, I’m the heir. The next don.”
She doesn’t say a word. I wonder what’s going on inside her head. But for the first time, I’m scared to ask.
“All my parents’ expectations have been transferred to me,” I tell her. “And that’s…”