“And I will.” His eyes flashed. “But I love you, Maggie. That’s not just talk. Do you have any idea what that means for me, when I say those words?”
Her breath caught at the look on his face. Stormy and frustrated and incredulous.
“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you,” he said fiercely. “And I’m not going to. So yes, I’d wait for you. Either way, I’m certainly not going to be looking to meet someone else. My heart belongs to you now.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Whether you want it or not, it’s yours. I’m yours. That’s just how it is.”
Her eyes stung as her head swam. “My God, Colin… I…” The tears escaped, sliding down her cheeks. Feelings crashed inside her, overwhelming her. She felt so strongly for him… but she couldn’t get the words out. She just couldn’t.
He stepped to her, held her face, and kissed her lips with exquisite tenderness. “I know you have to go,” he whispered. He gazed at her for a long beat, dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be here,” he whispered against her skin. “Always.”
She cried quietly, the tears rolling down her face. “You can’t wait for me to pop by once or twice a year.”
“You can’t tell me what to do or how to feel.”
A sob escaped her.
“Answer me one thing.” He pulled back to look right into her eyes. “You’re still too much in love with Zack, aren’t you? You thought you let him go, but you didn’t.”
“No!” she cried. “No, that’s not it. Of course I’ll always love him, but he’s gone. I need to live, and I do. I just… I don’t know if I can love like that again.”
“No one’s asking you to, Maggie,” Colin whispered. “What you had with him was sacred. A piece of you will never be over him. Honor that.”
She cried harder. “I do. But I want more out of life than memories.”
“You always tell me I need to choose things for myself. Well, love… you have to choose too. And you do, all the time.” His hand ran over her hair. “You talk about living… well, whether you choose to make room in your heart for someone new—whether it’s me, or someone else—that’s up to you. I think, for all your travels and healing, you’ve decided that’s not for you. You chose it.”
He sighed and his mouth twisted into a sad smile. “That night, when I said you hide, that you lie to yourself? That’s what I was getting at. You think it’s all behind you, but it’s not completely. You think you’re so open, and I’m the one who’s closed off. It’s not true. You are too. You’ve been hiding from your pain, lying to yourself that you were free of it. Maybe you never will be. But maybe you’re also afraid of your freedom and don’t know what to do with it. Believe me, I understand that.”
Emotions slammed her, making her stomach roll with nausea and bile rise in her throat. “I can’t do this,” she stammered between sobs. “I—I just need to keep moving. That’s what’s kept me going…”
“I know.” Colin pulled her in and held her close. She clung to him as she cried.
“You do what you have to do,” he said. “I’ll love you no matter what. That won’t change. So, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”
“I don’t want you to wait for me!” she cried. “I mean it.”
“Okay. But I’m still going to be here anyway, so.” He kissed her forehead again and gently pushed her back. “We don’t have to talk about this again. You know how I feel, what I want. We still have what, two weeks together, give or take? Hopefully, we’ll make the most of it. I certainly intend to. Being with you has been the most… the best time of my life.” His large hands framed her face. “You brought me back to life again. No matter what happens, I’ll always be grateful to you for that.”
She stared at him in astonishment. “That’s what I wanted for you,” she whispered. “That’s all I wanted.”
“And ya got a lot more than ya bargained for. Well, same here.” Wiping her tears with his thumbs, he pressed a kiss to her mouth before turning away. “I’ll text you tomorrow.” He walked out of her room, then out of the flat, closing the door quietly behind him.
Maggie sank to the bed. Her whole body shook as she curled up beneath the blankets, trying to stem the racing of her heart.
Chapter Sixteen
Maggie eased back against the cushions as she stared out the window. This plush chair was her favorite in her parents’ house. Tucked in the corner of the den, it was old and comfy and looked out on the spacious backyard. The leaves were all off the trees now, leaving scrawny naked branches that reached up to the overcast sky.
Thanksgiving, all about family togetherness, had left her with an acute sense of melancholy. Her family had been decent. She’d even go so far as to say she was enjoying the visit. Her sisters hadn’t aggravated her too much, and her parents didn’t ignore, as they had through most of her younger years, or smother, as they did after the accident. Helping with the cooking for the past two days had kept her busy, given her something to do. Now, as she sat full of Thanksgiving dinner, the melancholy returned as she gazed out at the gray sky. Gray skies reminded her of Dublin, and of Colin.
Oh hell, everything reminded her of Colin. She missed him so much it hurt.
Five weeks had gone by since she’d left Dublin, and him. A man of his word, he hadn’t asked her to stay. Since that talk where he’d poured his heart out, he’d never again brought up her possibly staying. He didn’t bring up any of it.
A part of her ached over that. She wanted him to ask her to stay, she admitted that to herself. But he didn’t. He helped her pack, he drove her to the airport, he kissed her like his life depended on her oxygen… and with a frown etched into his face, heartache plain in his eyes, he said goodbye and walked out of the terminal. She watched his back until she couldn’t see him anymore, and for the first time in a long time, anxiety washed over her at being alone.
She’d enjoyed the two and a half weeks in D.C., catching up with old friends from college and prior travels, staying at B&Bs in Maryland and Virginia before driving through the Blue Ridge Mountains. She stayed in small hotels, saw breathtaking natural vistas, taking her time through West Virginia and up to Ohio a few days before Thanksgiving, as promised.
And never stopped thinking of the wonderful man she’d left behind in Dublin.
She’d texted him when she arrived safely in the States, as she’d promised. He’d answered immediately, thanking her for keeping that promise and wishing her well.
A few days later, from a dark bar in Georgetown, she’d texted him: I miss you.
The next morning, she woke to his texted response: I miss you too. I love you.
She wanted to send him pictures of the monuments, the White House, things from the museums she visited. She wanted to write and write, to have contact. But she knew it wasn’t fair to him. So she didn’t text, or email, or call. If he loved her enough to let her go, she had to treat him with the same respect and let him go too. Keeping his hopes up that she’d return wasn’t fair… even if she found herself daydreaming about it often. Different scenarios played out in her head. Secretly arriving in Dublin, she’d surprise him by showing up at his office, or finding him at the pub… oh, how she missed the comfort of going to her local for a pint.
And no matter where she went, goddammit, Guinness just didn’t taste the same here in the USA as it did in Dublin.
She dreamed about him almost every night. When she did, she woke feeling both happy that she’d seen his face so clearly, heard his rumbling voice… and aching over his absence. When she didn’t dream of him, she woke feeling bereft, missing him anew.
No matter what she did, where she went, she thought of him. He’d gotten under her skin, burrowed deep into her heart, and she yearned for him. She was a hot mess.
The worst part was something she’d only begun to admit to herself: traveling wasn’t fun these days. She groused at having to pack and unpack, the continuous moving and shuffling… instead of feeling adventurous, she felt displac
ed.
Had the allure and appeal of traveling finally lost its luster? After almost a decade? Because of one man? Maggie just couldn’t believe that. The sum of her experiences couldn’t come down to wanting to be in one place with one man. She was just lonely.
You don’t have to be lonely, a voice whispered in her head. You chose that.
She closed her eyes and sighed.
“I thought you might be in here.” Her mother’s voice came from the doorway. Susie smiled at her as she crossed the room. “We’re all going to watch the movie. You joining us?”
Her family’s tradition, since she was a child, was to watch It’s A Wonderful Life after Thanksgiving dinner. Tonight, any distraction was welcome. “Sure,” Maggie said and got to her feet.
“Um… you’re staying another two or three days, right?” Susie asked.
“Yeah. I’m leaving on Sunday. Why?” Maggie cocked her head and half-joked, “Trying to get rid of me already?”
“Goodness, no!” Susie exclaimed. “I’d love for you to stay right through the New Year, but I know you never would. I’m just wondering if you’re going to look through your things while you’re here.” She tugged at her sweater and added, “Truthfully, I thought you would have by now.”
Maggie swallowed hard. Souvenirs from all her journeys were in her old room. Her parents had been kind enough to use it as a storage room for Maggie’s things. It was the only storage unit she had on the planet. A piece of her wanted to look through her stuff… but the rest of her had put it off, a sense of unease sweeping over her whenever she even got near the door of her old room.
“I know,” she said. “I have to do that, and I will. Either tomorrow or Saturday.”
“Whatever you want,” her mom said, and reached for her. “Can I have a hug?”
Maggie went to her mother and was folded in her sturdy embrace. It felt good to be hugged, and she savored it. For once, her mother was the first to let go, not her.
*
Colin rubbed his eyes as he woke up. A glance toward the window showed another gray, dreary late November day. Then again, every day had seemed dreary since Maggie had left.
He’d heard from her twice, when she’d arrived in America… but not since. She didn’t contact him, so he didn’t contact her. It hurt every day. He longed to talk to her. But he’d said he’d let her go, he had to stick to that.
What she didn’t know was that he’d kept traveling. Dublin felt empty without her. He couldn’t even stand to go to Reardon’s anymore; every time he had, he’d swallowed a kernel of hope that she’d changed her mind and would walk through the door. His stories had dried up, he couldn’t write.
So he took a page from her book. Suddenly, he understood the need to go to new places to leave ghosts behind. He kept moving.
Two weeks after she left, he went on an overnight trip to Belfast. Three weeks after she left, he took a short trip to Scotland. Easy enough; the flight to Glasgow was all of an hour and fifteen minutes. He visited several museums, restaurants, pubs. The way he’d dreamed of doing in his youth… the way Maggie had shown him he could do now. He figured she’d likely be proud of him. He was proud of himself.
But walking along, on his fourth and last day there, he’d come upon a sculpture on the street. The inscription made his blood run cold as he read it. From the renowned architect and artist Charles Rennie Mackintosh: “Without you, everything has a flatness. I feel as if I’m waiting for something all the time.”
It was exactly how his life felt without Maggie.
It hit him like a sledgehammer. Colin stood and stared at that sculpture for a good ten minutes. His writing hadn’t been able to adequately express how he felt, but that one quote did. He felt the longing for Maggie so deep in his bones, it brought tears to his eyes and almost made him double over.
He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again.
So far, it didn’t look good. Radio silence implied the forever type of gone.
When he got back to Dublin, Colin started writing again. Not stories, but letters. Long letters he’d never send. By longhand, in his notebooks, he wrote love letters, or just talked to Maggie, pouring his heart out. Telling her about his day, things he’d done and seen, his thoughts about life in general. He couldn’t talk to her in reality, but in his letters, he said every word. The ink and paper were his safe place to land, and it helped.
This morning, the patter of rain against his window made him groan. He didn’t want to get out of bed. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d blow off work today…
No he wouldn’t. That wasn’t who he was. But before he’d get in the shower, he checked his phone. It had become dull, checking his phone. A daily disappointment. Without messages from Maggie, who cared anymore? But this morning, there was an email notification, and he opened it. His heart skipped a beat, then soared. It was from Maggie. She’d sent it last night, while he was asleep.
Suddenly charged with adrenaline, he sat up a bit to read her email.
Hi Colin. Hope this note finds you well.
I’m in Ohio. I went to my parents’ house for a few days, for Thanksgiving. I’d been kind of dreading it, but you know what? It’s been nice. My sisters are okay, my baby niece is adorable, and my parents have been great. They’ve all been shoving food at me and I’ve been eating like a pig. Will have to do a LOT of walking when I get to New York next week. That’s the plan, by the way. I’ll be in NY for all of December (mainly NYC, to be specific). Don’t you have family there?
Anyway… last night, as is family tradition, we watched the old movie ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ after dinner. Have you ever seen it? It’s a classic here in the USA, but I don’t know if it is in Ireland. It’s a Christmas movie, about the life of a man named George Bailey… it’s really amazing, and if you haven’t seen it, might I suggest that you do?
Thing is, it struck me: you’re kind of like George Bailey. He wanted to bust out of his small town and dreamed of traveling, seeing the world. Because of family obligations, that didn’t happen for him, and he was stuck in his tiny town. He resented it, and over the years it poked at him, and… well, I don’t want to spoil the movie for you in case you haven’t seen it. But he kind of reminded me of you. Then again, everything seems to remind me of you these days. He had a happy ending. I want you to have one too. One of your own making, which you can do now.
Also, I miss you. I really do. I hope my silence hasn’t made you think otherwise. I’d hate for you to think I don’t care about you, when I do, so much. I’m just trying to be fair to you. I don’t want you putting your life on hold, hoping I’ll come back. I don’t know when I’ll be back in Dublin. But I do miss that city, and I miss you. I can’t get you out of my head. Or my heart.
Even that feels unfair to tell you. But it’s the truth. You were so brave and honest about your feelings. I know how hard that must have been for you. So I wanted to reciprocate.
Hope you’re all right. Hope you’ll enjoy the holidays with your kids. I think of you…
Much love, Maggie
Colin reread the email three times before getting out of bed, unable to wipe the smile from his face. His heart felt a hundred times lighter. Her words meant the world to him. She’d missed him enough to tell him he was in her head and her heart.
He wanted to do something… he just wasn’t sure what. For now, he’d wait. She missed him. She’d reached out to him. It was something.
*
On Saturday afternoon, while her mother cleaned the house and her father stored some things in the garage, Maggie finally ventured into her old room.
She looked around, her breath catching. There were boxes of all sizes in neat stacks, all with her own handwriting on them from different corners of the world. Her mother had been careful with them, and Maggie appreciated that.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled her pocketknife from her jeans and began opening them, one by one.
It was like taking a stroll down memory lane. Holding a pie
ce of jewelry from Greece, a leather jacket from Italy, a tiny painted sculpture from South Africa, a small blown glass bowl from Iceland… she could instantly see those places in her mind, recall them down to details. God, she was glad she’d done this, and so grateful her parents were willing to let her store things here.
Before she knew it, two hours had passed.
The next-to-last box made her frown in confusion. It didn’t have her handwriting on it. It was from Texas.
A chill ran through her. She recognized the address. It was from Zack’s family.
With fingers that had suddenly gone numb, she carefully sliced open the brown paper, noting the date on the stamp. It had been sent almost a year ago, in time for last Christmas, but of course Maggie hadn’t come home for that. She opened the box to find an envelope sat on top of a much smaller box. With her nerves on edge, she read the handwritten letter inside from… oh God, his mother.
Dear Maggie,
A friend of Zack’s from college sent a bunch of photos to us, thinking we might like to have them. His name is Jeff Cairns, maybe you remember him?
Maggie choked out a laugh and shivered. Jeff had been Zack’s roommate for the last two years of college. Of course she remembered him. A skinny, funny guy, he’d been like a brother to Zack, and Maggie had adored him. But after the accident, she’d barely heard from him. Like most of their college friends, she figured they either didn’t know what to say or didn’t care enough to try. Many of them had faded away quickly, or kept contact to the occasional comment on her website or Facebook page.
She kept reading.
The thing is, so many of the pictures have you in them too, of course. So I scanned them so we could have a copy, but I thought perhaps you’d like to have these. You should.
I know you still travel the world, I follow your blog. It’s been wonderful to see what you’ve done. The last time I talked to you, you said you were going to finish what you and Zack had started, and it seems you have. I’m sure he smiles down on you every day. But I do hope you’ll also take the time to find something more for yourself.
Love in Dublin Page 19
