Saved by an Angel

by Roberta Capizzi

  Colin chuckled and the look in his eyes spoke volumes. “I think it’s only girls who get giddy. But yes, I still get all worked up with just one stare or a smile from your sister. I love Kathleen even more than I did a year ago, and the feeling only gets stronger.”

  “So you mean it doesn’t feel boring?”

  At that, Colin laughed harder. “It’s your sister we’re talking about, man. She’s the least boring person on this Earth.”

  I smiled and nodded. Yeah, he was right. Kathy was anything but boring.

  “But to answer your question: no, it doesn’t feel boring. Every day I discover something new about her, something that makes me love her more than the day before.” His eyes went all dreamy and I realized when I talked about Michelle I’d never felt the way he was clearly feeling, judging by the silly expression on his face. “I’m gonna love spending the rest of my life finding some new thing to love about her every day.”

  His answer cleared my doubts just a little more. Maybe I cared for Michelle. I enjoyed her company and we’d had some good times together, at least at the beginning, but there was that little something missing. The spark that would keep the fire burning throughout the years. If after only a year the fire was already dying, how could I think of spending my life with her and be happy?

  “Things aren’t going too well with Michelle.” I hunched forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “I’m not sure what happened, but it doesn’t feel as good as it used to. I don’t think this is ever going to work between us; there’s something missing. And lately, whatever she says and does gets on my nerves.”

  “Do you still love her?”

  It took me three long beats to answer his question. “I don’t know,” I said, eventually. There was no point in sugar-coating it if I wanted to get his help on the matter.

  “There. You have your answer.” He shrugged, and reached for the bowl of candies on the coffee table, popping one into his mouth nonchalantly, as if I’d just said that I didn’t know whether I wanted to eat a red or a blue jellybean. “If someone asks me if I love your sister, I don’t even have to think about it. The answer leaves my mouth before the thought has even formed in my brain. She’s like . . . the air I breathe. I don’t need to remind myself to breathe, just like I don’t need to remind myself to love Kathleen. She’s a part of me, as if she’d been by my side all of my life.”

  Other times I would have rolled my eyes and mockingly gagged at Colin’s mushy talk, but this time I felt an anvil settle on my chest, squashing my heart at the realization that I’d never, ever felt like that for Michelle. Colin would jump into the fire for my sister; he’d probably give up his life to save hers, but I knew I wouldn’t do the same for Michelle. My feelings for her weren’t strong enough.

  Why had I realized this just now? Was it because that strange attraction I’d felt toward Claire since the first time I’d met her had opened my eyes?

  Having a guys’ night with Colin was fun, but there was no denying I’d rather have had this conversation with Declan.

  “I miss my brother.” The words left my mouth before I could stop them. Colin hung his head and didn’t say a word. He knew what losing someone meant, and he knew very well how useless words were.

  “I know it’s been over a year, and I should man up and get over it, especially since I know he’s still alive somewhere else, but . . .”

  “He was your brother, David. He was taken away from you in the most unexpected and tragic way. Give yourself time to grieve; I’m quite sure you never did. Not properly anyway.” I looked up from my clasped hands and I saw his eyes had turned warm and understanding. “You’ve supported your parents and your sisters, but nobody ever asked how you felt. Am I right?”

  I nodded. “It wasn’t their fault. I always pretended to be happy, to be over it. I didn’t want my sisters or parents to worry about me.”

  “When I lost my parents, I turned into a sulky teenager full of hatred and resentment. I took up drinking and smoking, and I just wished I would die and get it over with.”

  My eyes widened, hearing his unexpected confession. Kathy had told me about Colin’s own tragedy when he was sixteen, but she’d never said anything about how he’d coped with the grief. I couldn’t believe Colin had been anything but the perfect man he was today.

  He shrugged. “I blamed myself for being alive when I should’ve been on that plane with my parents. Luckily, I moved in with my Grandma in Sligo and she saved my life. But I never let a girl close enough to me after that day. I never gave my heart away until I met your sister, and brick by brick, she pulled down the fortress around my heart and stole it.”

  I took a handful of jellybeans from the bowl and munched slowly, letting his words sink in.

  “What I’m saying is that it took me fourteen years to get over my grief. Everyone has a different way of grieving; you can’t expect to heal overnight. I was lucky to find your sister and she helped me find a way to love again, but it wasn’t until the night she started walking again and told me my parents’ message that I truly, completely healed.”

  Kathy had said something about that day, the night she told us how Declan had healed her, but she hadn’t gone into details about Colin and his parents.

  “What did you do when Kathy told you about Declan? About him being her angel and everything?” Colin was the only one outside our family to know about Declan. Despite the fact that Kathy had written a book about it, changing names and adding fictional facts, we’d decided this would be our family secret.

  Colin hung his head and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, at first I was a jerk, especially when she mentioned my parents. I thought she was using my Achilles’ heel to make me believe her story. But then . . . well, when she said that nickname only my mother used, all my defenses crumbled. When I looked into her eyes, I could only see love and honesty and I . . . I put aside all my medical knowledge and my notions, and I believed her.” He smiled and looked at me. “I believed her because I loved her, and trust is part of what love is all about.”

  Trust. I’d never trusted Michelle with my family’s secret. I wondered if maybe things would be different if I could open up with her, tell her the reason for my weird behavior, talk about the nightmares and everything.

  “You think I should tell Michelle?”

  Colin leaned with his elbow propped on the backrest, and stared intently at me for a moment.

  “Do you think this is the reason why things aren’t working between you two?”

  Did I? Lately, I wasn’t so sure anymore. I shrugged in response and his gaze turned serious, his eyebrows slightly furrowing.

  “It takes a lot of trust, and an even bigger amount of love to truly believe when you’re skeptical. I know something about it.” He smiled and popped another candy into his mouth. “You have to be absolutely sure she’s worth it, because once it’s out there you won’t be able to take it back. If you tell her the truth, Kathleen will inevitably be involved; unless you trust Michelle with your life, I’d rather you not tell her. I don’t want Kathleen to get hurt in the process.”

  “I would never do anything that could hurt my sister.”

  He nodded, and patted my shoulder. “I know. You’re a wonderful brother, and I do appreciate the way you’ve been there for Kathleen when we were apart. Hell, I even liked the way you got all Terminator on me when you left her to spend the weekend with me in Dublin.”

  I laughed. “Don’t think that because you’re making an honest woman out of her you’re off my radar. She’s my little sister, and I’ll always care about her. The threat to break your legs if you break her heart is still valid, ya know?”

  I punched his arm, make it his rock-hard arm, and realized I should start working out a bit more; my arms were like jelly compared to his. Damn.

  Colin gave me a silly grin. “I promised you then and I’ll renew my promise now: I have no intention of breaking your sister’s heart. I’d rather plant a knife in my chest and rip my heart
out than hurt her in any way.”

  “Hell, Byrne, you’re making the pizza crawl up my stomach now. Stop this lovey-dovey stuff before I hurl all over your nice shirt.”

  Colin laughed heartily and shook his head. I reached for my remote, stood up, and looked at him over my shoulder. Enough serious talk. I needed to get my mind off my troubled relationship, and nothing worked better than a videogame.

  “Come on, Yankee. Girlie talk’s over. I’m ready to get my revenge on you and kick your ass, now.”

  Colin grabbed his controller and gave me a ‘you wish’ smirk, complete with a quirked eyebrow, and as the game started, I decided that all my troubles could wait. I was going to enjoy this night with my future brother-in-law and friend, and tomorrow I’d call Michelle and meet up with her. We needed to talk things through, and maybe it was time I opened my eyes and realized we just weren’t meant to be. She didn’t deserve to be led on when deep down in my heart I knew our relationship was doomed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Claire

  The day after the disastrous night at the pub, I woke to an empty house. Ciara and Aidan had gone on a day trip to Dublin, where they’d be watching a ballet Ciara hadn’t stopped babbling about. Aidan had given her the tickets for her birthday, and she’d worn my ears out telling me how excited she was. I was glad the day had finally come, so she’d recap the event and be done with it.

  Since I was feeling restless and couldn’t bear to stay in bed all morning, I decided to go jogging. When I was a college student and lived in the students’ apartment near the university grounds, I used to get on a bus and spend Saturday and Sunday mornings jogging on the Salthill Promenade. Running alongside the sea, inhaling the cool, salty air without a care in the world was something that always helped me relax. After seeing Michelle clinging to David like a koala bear to a eucalyptus tree, no doubt wanting to eat him bit by delicious bit, pushing myself to the limits on a sunny day was exactly what I needed to keep my mind off those gorgeous silver-blue eyes.

  After my jog and a shower, I took advantage of Ciara’s absence for the day and cleaned the house, took Robbie for a quick walk around the neighborhood and tried a new recipe I’d read on my favorite food blog a couple of days ago. I spent the night on the couch, watching 27 Dresses for the umpteenth time, and ended up squashing Robbie to my chest like a comfort pillow when I started crying at the exact same part I always did. I might be a nerd with a love for mystery books, but I did love a good romantic movie, and this was one of my all-time favorites.

  The following day I didn’t see Ciara until after lunch. I’d heard her and Aidan come home at around two in the morning, and when they did wake up around eleven or so, I had to leave the house and take Robbie for a walk he didn’t really need because hearing their antics in the bedroom still made me a little uncomfortable.

  When I came home, Ciara was in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee and there was no trace of Aidan. She told me about their day in Dublin, including the show, and seemed totally oblivious to the fact that the walls weren’t made of soundproof Styrofoam. Maybe I really was a prude.

  “Aidan’s friends are going to watch a game in the pub around the corner tonight. Don’t ask me what—you know I’m not a sports fan. Will you go with us?”

  “Um, actually I had plans…” I started arguing, while thinking of an excuse—I’d never been a fan of endless partying and clubbing, but Ciara could be relentless when she wanted.

  “Please, don’t leave me alone with a bunch of guys who’ll cuss at the TV and down beer after beer all night.”

  She batted her eyelashes and brought her hands together in begging mode. I laughed—she was such a drama queen.

  “Why don’t you stay at home and maybe, just maybe, read a book or study for your next exam?”

  Ciara wrinkled her nose as if I’d just asked her to eat a rotten egg. “My next exam is a loooong time away. Besides, only old people stay home on Sunday night and read a book. Girl, I’ve got to tell ya, you are turning into a moldy old lady. Live a little!”

  She jumped off the kitchen stool, pinched both my cheeks and pulled the skin up until I involuntarily smiled.

  “See? You’re so much prettier when you stop being a party pooper. I’ll tell Aidan we’ll meet him there at eight. That okay?”

  I let out a sigh. Sometimes with her I felt like Don Quixote, tilting at windmills—a fight I’d never be able to win, no matter how hard I tried.

  We walked to the pub, but even though Ciara had insisted on picking my outfit again, this time I’d clung to my ballerina flats like a life buoy, and I’d threatened to stay at home if she didn’t let me wear them. In the end she’d given up, and even though I wasn’t comfortable wearing a pair of skin-tight black leggings and a sequined top that barely covered my butt—courtesy of her wardrobe—I was happy I didn’t have to worry about tripping and breaking a leg.

  The pub was crowded and noisy, which wasn’t my favorite environment in which to spend a Sunday night, especially considering I’d have to get up at seven tomorrow to go to work. The patronage was mainly men, and most of them had their eyes glued to the flat screens scattered around the pub, but I couldn’t help feeling all eyes on us as we walked in.

  Get over it, Claire. Nobody’s looking at you. Invisible, remember?

  Ciara spotted Aidan and called him not very inconspicuously, making a few heads turn. I tried to hide behind her, and wished I had that cloak Harry Potter used to become invisible. It would’ve come rather handy right now.

  We joined the group and I was glad to see a couple of girls had tagged along. I listened to Ciara tell the women about her trip to Dublin, and they all agreed we should go on a shopping trip together before Christmas. I nodded and decided it was time to refill my glass of cranberry juice. Lame, considering all the other girls were having beer or fancy cocktails with exotic names, but the last thing I needed was a hangover on a Monday morning.

  I asked if anyone wanted another drink, but they all raised their glasses saying they were fine, so I went to the bar and waited to catch the bartender’s attention. I was following the match on TV, wondering what the fuss was all about, when a big hand brushed my bare forearm, and I flinched.

  “Claire, that you?”

  The hair on the back of my neck rose and goosebumps prickled my skin. I spun around and found myself face to face—well, face to chest—with Peter, my ex-boyfriend, the one who’d made me swear off men for the rest of my life—and possibly any next life, if there was anything like reincarnation at all. His eyes were slightly drooping, and his smile was crooked but the same charming one he’d used to lure me in two years ago. Too bad I wasn’t that stupid, naïve girl he’d met back then. He could take his charming smile and shove it. I wouldn’t fall for it again.

  “Wow, doll, you’re quite mouthwatering tonight.”

  His voice was slurred, which, combined with the drooping eyes, could only mean he’d already had quite a few drinks. The last time I’d seen him this slammed . . . I shook the thought away. I didn’t want to remember what he’d done to me that night.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked through gritted teeth. I’d always been the polite girl, the one who had a friendly smile for everyone—but he didn’t deserve any of my good manners. He didn’t even deserve a second of my time, to be honest.

  “We had a game, and we won.” He belched, grinned and winked at me. Everything about him repulsed me. I wanted to vomit, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he still affected me. “What are you doing here, doll? Have you come to watch the game and cheer me on?”

  Yeah, you wish, you smug bastard.

  “I live here now. I have a job.”

  I turned away and beckoned at the bartender, who mouthed be right there before turning to other customers. I let out an annoyed huff. Maybe I should forget my drink and go back to Ciara, say goodbye to the girls and just leave. Yes, that was a good idea.

  Before I could walk away, though, his ha
nd was on me again, his strong fingers around my wrist. Panic surged through me as memories of the last time he’d wrapped his fingers around my wrist like that and what had happened afterwards flashed in front of my eyes. I pulled, trying to free my arm from his grasp, but he wasn’t a rugby player for nothing. His bulk and strength were something I’d always been helpless against. My wrist hurt from pulling away, so I stopped trying, knowing it was useless.

  “Peter, let me go,” I said, fighting for control. I wasn’t going to let him see I was scared of him, because he’d only get a kick out of it.

  “Why don’t you come back to the hotel with me instead, so we can celebrate? I want to see if you’ve gotten any better over time.”

  He leaned in closer and the stench of beer on his breath hit me in the face. Memories whirled in my mind, twisting around like tornadoes, destroying every bit of the walls I’d stashed them behind to protect myself from the pain.

  “I’m here with some friends, and they’re waiting for me. Let me go.”

  I tried to keep my voice steady, but I could hear it was shaky. Hopefully he was too drunk to notice. I pulled my hand with a little more force, but his grip got stronger. It was starting to hurt, and nobody seemed to care about what was happening around them. My throat slowly started to constrict as a panic attack crawled up from my diaphragm. I couldn’t freak out in front of him, but it wasn’t something I could control.

  “Let go, Peter. You’re hurting me,” I pleaded, pulling my arm with a little more force. I didn’t care that he could hear my fear now—I just wanted him to let me go back to my friends, and then have him get out of my life forever. “Let me go.”

  “Claire? Is everything okay here?”