“Celia know that? I’m pretty sure I heard her telling Felicity that things were headed in the right direction with you two.”
“As parents together. Nothing more,” Martin said. “Jesus, I just need to file to end it, don’t I?”
Conor raised his eyebrows. “Your call, man.”
Martin could see Conor had more to say but was holding back. “And?”
“I’m the last person to give advice in this arena—”
“But you’re going to anyway, so let’s have it.” Martin had no patience for tiptoeing around things at the moment.
“A clean break seems in order, is all I’m thinking. You started that way, then slipped backwards, maybe?”
The critique irritated Martin to an irrational degree. He had been doing the best he could with a tough situation. Conor had no fucking clue what it was like. “You’re right,” he told him. “You’re the last person who should give advice with this.”
“Okay, I’ll fuck off then, shall I?” Conor asked with a smile.
That made Martin grudgingly smile, then laugh. “Thanks, Con,” he said.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do. But I have the feeling you’re gonna figure it out.”
Martin nodded, appreciating the vote of confidence. But it didn’t exactly help him with Lainey. At the risk of blowing this whole thing up completely, he decided to call her. Without mentioning it to anyone, he stepped out of the suite and walked briskly through the crowds of post-Christmas revelers until he found a corridor for staff that was empty.
“Just read my last text,” she said upon answering.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked. “Why are you acting as if a fucking tabloid story is the truth?”
She was silent but she hadn’t disconnected.
“Because it got to you? The idea that another married man might have led you on?”
“I don’t need this—”
“I’m not that guy, Lainey. And I’m not the one manipulating this situation.”
“What? Are you saying I am?” she scoffed.
“That’s fucking right. You did more than fuck me. You gave me a piece of something real, something of your heart. And I gave you mine. And then you ran scared. Now you want to use this tabloid bullshit as an excuse to act like you’re the hurt one. At least own up to it.”
“Fuck you,” she said softly.
“Yeah, fuck me. Thanks very much.” He was breathing quickly, his body coursing with adrenaline. It had all gone to hell. This was a girl he knew he could love, and he had just fucked it up. “You don’t know how much I wanted a chance, Lainey. But I wish you well. Take care of yourself.” He ended the call.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Saying a quick goodbye to the boys, Martin headed down the front path from Celia’s to walk home in the cold. His head was still wrapped up in that phone call with Lainey. But Celia called after him and he turned back to her.
“Won’t you stay for a cuppa?” she asked, an expectant smile on her face.
Martin hesitated before closing the distance between them. “No, thanks. I’m off. I’ll pick up the lads next week, yeah?”
“What about us doing dinner together?”
“Em, I’m not sure that’s the best idea. It might just confuse the boys about what’s going on with us.”
She stiffened. “And what is going on with us? I thought after the other night, when you kissed me, we might be getting on pretty well.”
“I apologized for that. It shouldn’t have happened.”
Taking a step closer to him, she touched the lapel of his jacket. “I think it was a sign. That we’re not done. This can work again, if we both just give in a little.”
“Celia, I don’t want to give in. I don’t want to try again.”
The words were plain and brutal. Once again, he was pushing things to the point of no return. And once again, she was choosing to ignore it.
“Then, I’ll be the one to give in. I’ll do all the work, Marty. Just don’t give up on what we had.”
“Oh, Jesus. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want you to compromise yourself just to keep the likes of me around. I know you’re hurting and you don’t want this, but you will get through it. I promise you.”
His words did not have the soothing effect he intended. Instead, she got angry.
“You haven’t gotten any smarter, have you?” she asked. “I’ve been giving you every chance to fix your mistakes, but you’re too stupid to see it.”
The change in her tone reminded him exactly how she could be. Judgmental and unkind.
“I don’t want to fight,” he told her. “I’m sorry you’re not getting what you want, but this doesn’t have to get ugly.”
“You think that crazy actress wants a man with three kids?” she asked.
The characterization of Lainey as someone with mental problems sent him over the edge. Celia had obviously done her own research and gone as far back to Lainey’s affair with the producer who had tarnished her reputation.
“Lainey, you mean?” he asked. “The one I’ve been fucking in L.A. and London and Prague?” It wasn’t the whole truth, but that didn’t matter when he just wanted to fight back. He had tried letting Celia down easy. He had tried being firm. Neither worked. Maybe this would.
“You’re crude and disgusting. To think I would have let you back into my bed.”
“Dodged a bullet, yeah?” he asked and laughed, suddenly feeling giddy. Pushing back was the release he needed after the fight he’d had with Lainey.
“Just go. I’ve had enough of you,” she said and turned away.
“Happily, Celia. Happily, I’ll go on my fucking way to fuck whoever I fucking want.” He delighted in the cursing, knowing she hated it.
The slamming of the door was her only reply.
Two days later, she filed for divorce. Martin counted himself lucky that she was asking to maintain the custody arrangements they had already worked out. There were limits to her anger, it seemed.
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
It was the bleakest New Year’s Eve Martin could remember. Though he had been invited to Gavin and Sophie’s house for their usual soiree, he’d declined. He’d been in a black mood ever since the day after Christmas when he’d fought with both Lainey and Celia. The idea of being around his coupled-up friends was not appealing.
Instead, he worked out for almost three hours, punishing his body as a way to shut off his mind. But it did no more than make him tight and tired. He just wanted the night to get over with so they could push into a new year and he could get into the studio with the boys.
He was absently flipping through cable channels when he got a text. It was Ashley.
“How’s your new year’s?” she asked. She had included a photo of herself wearing a party hat and winking with exaggeration.
Despite himself, Martin smiled. Ashley had always been entertaining.
“Dull here. You have plans?”
“Always. Party in Oakland. Wish you were here.”
“Yeah?”
“We had fun, didn’t we?”
“You had fun fucking with me.”
“Aw, come on. You know you had fun fucking me.” She added a winking face emoji.
He laughed. “That’s true.”
“I hope you don’t think I was a bad influence. I’d like to think I helped you see more of life and what you could be/have.”
“And yet, here I am sitting in the dark in a rental house while my wife is divorcing me.”
“Ha. You need to flip that. There you are with your own life, your own decisions, your own path. It was a long time coming. Not all my doing. Though I had fun pushing you to new experiences.”
He thought about that for a long moment. Despite the way she liked to toy with him, she had helped him. Though he wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be in life, he didn’t regret his split with Celia. If he could have done it all in a kinder way, he would have wanted that, but there was no go
ing back now.
“You were a mind blowing experience, Ash,” he typed. “In a good way.”
“I’m happy to blow your anything, baby.”
He entertained the idea of turning this into a video chat, knowing Ashley would be up for it. But she was in his past now, and he just wanted to move forward.
“I hope you’re well. Happy New Year.”
“You too. Xo.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
“Get your sorry arse up and go over to Gavin’s.”
“Look, Shay, I’m not good company. It’s better for us all if I don’t go.”
It was almost eleven o’clock and Martin and Shay were speaking by phone. Shay had spent Christmas and now New Year’s in San Francisco. He’d be back in Dublin in a matter of days so they could all go to studio.
“You know you’ll end up having a good time. It’s pathetic to stay home. Go on.”
“I’m really not—”
“Danny Boy’s there, Marty. I could use you to check up on him, okay?” Shay asked.
Martin nodded, though Shay couldn’t see him. “Okay, then. I’ll do it.”
“Grand. Ring me if I need to know anything.”
The first thing Martin would report to Shay was that Danny Boy had driven the Porsche to Gavin’s. He saw it out front when he arrived and shook his head. Though the house was lit up and the bass-heavy “River” by emerging artist Bishop Briggs seeped out, promising an upbeat evening, Martin hesitated to climb the wide-set staircase.
Taking out his cell, he decided to go ahead and do what he had been convincing himself not to do all day. He texted Lainey:
“It’s almost New Year’s here. I’ll be thinking of you at midnight.”
Once he hit send, he nodded to himself. He knew he wouldn’t get a reply, but he liked knowing that he put that out there.
Now, on to this party. He’d only have to stay for an hour or so. That would be enough time for the New Year to come in, and for him to get a sense of whether Danny Boy was up to no good. Still, he just wasn’t in the mood to put on a happy face. A few drinks would have to remedy that.
Not bothering to knock on the door he knew would be unlocked, Martin turned the handle and followed the noise to the living area. He quickly realized he’d come underdressed. Sophie had started asking guests to dress in cocktail attire for the party she hosted every year. Celia had always loved having the occasion to dress up. He’d grudgingly gone along with it in the past, but tonight he wore plain black work pants and a black and grey striped cashmere sweater under his army jacket.
He lingered at the corner of the room, bracing himself for the evening as he surveyed the guests. Even at six months pregnant, Sophie was a stunner. She wore a black Versace dress with colorful streaks of sequins hugging the contours of her body. Felicity had taken some style cues from her friend, wearing a crimson Oscar de la Renta dress that accentuated her chest and hugged her small baby bump. The women were in a circle with Maddy and James.
Gavin, Conor, and Danny Boy had their backs to the room as they faced the sea view. The water was glowing under the light of a full moon. They were gesturing, and maybe even arguing about something, as they pointed out to the sky. Martin assumed it was some dumb wager Danny Boy had made. He was famous for coming up with an improbable story and standing by it, to the point of betting money on it. He’d shrug when the claim was eventually easily disproven, having been more interested in getting a rise than being right. Danny Boy was bursting with energy but seemed like his recently sober self, which meant it was wise to be cautiously optimistic about him. Despite his successful efforts to stay clean, Danny Boy was always going to be someone on the verge of making the wrong choice.
Kiera, Felicity’s assistant, was sitting with two other women on the sofas. He recognized one of them as Kiera’s partner, but couldn’t see the other woman well enough. Roscoe, Danny Boy’s dog, was stretched out in front of the fireplace. There were a few other people from the Rogue organization scattered around the room as well.
“Marty!” Sophie said, making him jump. “I’m so glad you changed your mind.” She rushed to him and welcomed him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Yeah, just popping in for a bit,” he said. He took off his coat and she pulled it from his hands before he could protest.
“Hey, man,” Gavin said. He joined Sophie with his own greetings. “Come with me. We’ll get you a drink so you can catch up, yeah?”
“Baby,” Sophie said, looking at her husband pointedly.
“What? Oh, yeah, I mean, come in and join us.”
Martin furrowed his brows at Gavin’s awkward retreat. Maybe the guy was already drunk. Martin would gladly follow him to that state of being.
“I’ll take a drink. Whatever you’re serving is good enough,” Martin said.
Gavin turned and headed back toward the center of the room, and Martin was right behind him. He stopped, though, when he felt his cell vibrate with a text message. It had to be a reply from Lainey. He wanted it to be from Lainey.
It was. And her message surprised him: “You took off your ring.”
Dumbly, he looked down at his left hand. It was bare. He had taken his ring off after fighting with Celia the day after Christmas. The world hadn’t come crashing down. He hadn’t second-guessed any of his decisions. There had been no need to hang on to it for so long.
But how did Lainey know that? He couldn’t recall any paparazzi photos out there pointing this out.
“Marty,” Gavin said.
He looked up and saw his friend watching him expectantly.
“Why don’t you go to the kitchen? Grab something to drink from the bar we’ve got set up there at the breakfast table?”
“Oh, em, sure, I’ll do that.”
He walked toward the kitchen, his head lost in trying to sort out Lainey’s message.
And then he saw her standing before him, glass of champagne in one hand, and cell phone in the other. She wore a shimmery short black dress, high heels, and deep red lipstick. Her dark hair was down and wavy, with bangs newly trimmed to her eyebrows. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever known. But all he could register was the song by Chvches playing in the other room. It was the 80s-inspired synth-pop “Leave a Trace,” and the lyric about needing to feel relief bounced around in his head and chest.
“Happy New Year,” she said.
What was she doing here? He knew she and Sophie had become friendly. Had she come all the way here to spend the holiday with a new friend? If so, she probably hoped he wouldn’t show. But he had, and now they had this awkward meeting after fighting the last time they spoke. He didn’t know what to say.
“Well,” she said, clearing her throat, “I can see you’re speechless.”
Forced to find his voice, he asked, “What are you doing here, Lainey?”
She smiled and teared up. Blinking back the flash of emotion, she said, “I, um, I came to see you. To own up to things, like you said.”
This somehow didn’t clear anything up. He watched her, waiting for more.
“You were right that we had something real. You were right that I was scared of it and using any excuse I could to run away.”
“And now you’re here,” he said, fighting a smile. He didn’t dare presume that she wanted him the way he wanted her. He’d been burned too many times.
“In dramatic fashion,” she said and made a small curtsey. “Actress, after all.”
He laughed. “This is a lovely surprise, so it is. But what does it really mean?”
She set down her champagne glass and phone and took a step closer to him. “I’m sorry about how I handled things. I hurt you because it scared me to let you in. But you were right—I already had. Pretending anything else was cruel.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Honestly?”
“You’re all about the truth, aren’t you?” he asked with a wink.
She laughed. “It was you calling me on my bullshit. And not just t
he last time we talked, but before that. Not too many people have the guts to call me out,” she said.
“I’m only delighted it’s come around to my favor. That’s what you’re saying, right? That you want to give us a chance?”
Taking his hands in hers, she smiled up at him. “Yes, Martin. I do. If you’ll give me the chance. I want you.”
She was repeating the words from his last note to her. It worked as she intended, making him smile and reach for her. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, losing himself in the moment. Though she held him tightly in return, he could feel her body trembling against his. It had been a huge leap for her to come here with this grand gesture. She had spent her entire adult life steering away from relationships, having convinced herself that keeping men at arm’s length was the way to save herself from the kind of heartache she endured with her first love. That man had toyed with her, tortured her. Martin knew he would give her everything he had to make sure she didn’t regret taking a chance on him.
Sorting out how they would make this relationship work with him in Dublin and her in California wasn’t something he was worried about. Because after a tumultuous year, everything finally felt like it was clicking into place, and he had faith that it would only get better.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he told her between kisses.
“Me too. I don’t know what I would have done if Shay didn’t get you to come.”
He pulled away, the plot slowly dawning on him. “Oh, I see,” he said and laughed.
“It was a team effort. Mostly, Sophie orchestrated things on my behalf.”
Looking over her shoulder, Martin could see his group of friends in the living room. They were chatting with each other, but also glancing his way. He caught Sophie’s eye and she smiled, clearly delighted. He nodded his thanks to her. It was with friends like her, Shay, Conor, and Gavin that he had found the rhythm to his life.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
“Babe?” Lainey called out. “Can you help me?”
Martin followed Lainey’s voice toward the hotel room’s master suite bathroom. Dressed in Armani tuxedo trousers and a slim fit white button down dress shirt left open at the collar, he had been ready for an hour. But Lainey’s preparations had included a stylist with several overstuffed wardrobes for dress options, a makeup artist, and a hair stylist. Martin had watched them leave one after the other just a few minutes before. But if his girlfriend was asking for his help, then they’d somehow left her not quite done up.
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