Sweet Days (Four Days Book 2)

by A. S. Kelly

  Not so much because I miss him but because I

  realize how easy it was to set aside my feelings

  and not only because he betrayed me and fell in

  love with someone else. It was enough for me just

  to be near Patrick for a few minutes to understand

  that what I felt for Nate was nothing in comparison

  to what I feel when I’m looking into Patrick’s eyes

  and what I feel in my heart when it’s close to his.

  How could I believe that what I had before with

  Nate was love? How could I have imagined even

  for a minute that I could have had a future with

  him?

  What I feel for Patrick is intense and

  destabilizing. It scares me and leaves me wanting

  more at the same time. To have him for me, for us.

  That’s right because I’m not alone anymore,

  there are two of us and I understand having me

  means a lot more than having a relationship with

  two people.

  I’m going to have a child. My life will change,

  my priorities will change, and everything will be

  different. Difficult and complicated. I really don’t

  know if Patrick will be able to handle all this and

  his request only makes me dubious but it’s too late

  to turn back now.

  By now, I’m in the thick of it with all my heart.

  I already feel like I can’t and don’t want to give

  him up.

  I want him. For myself. For us. With all that

  comes with it, the risks and the fear.

  Even if it should break my heart.

  Patrick

  My mother is completely shaken. I went to see

  what I could do to ameliorate the damage caused

  once again by the man who should be my father.

  He shows up once or twice a month at my family’s

  house, to see my brothers, Robbie and Danny. No

  big deal, he just drops by, has a cup of coffee, a

  chat about nothing. But more often than not, he’s

  drunk, which only causes trouble and upsets

  everyone with his presence. But Robbie and

  Danny were still little when he left and still hope

  and believe that he is something better than he is.

  They decided to give him a chance, a trust that he

  has never deserved and every single time they end

  up being disappointed.

  This time, the situation has degenerated. My

  dad can’t stand the sight of Carl and when Danny

  called him ‘Dad’ in front of him, he lost control

  and threw himself at his wife’s new man.

  Danny loves Carl as if he really were his father

  and ran across to defend him. He came out of it

  with a bloody nose and a busted lip.

  I found him on the couch at home as my mother

  was trying to patch him up, and he’s still angry

  because of the fight. Carl is sitting in the corner

  feeling guilty as always for just being there. As if

  it were really his fault.

  How is it possible to abandon a family like that?

  To deny them everything when it mattered and

  then to show up when you feel like it and just

  create problems? How can you get married, have

  children and then destroy it all? Kill all of their

  dreams, make them feel worthless, leave them with

  their ass on the ground with no security or money?

  That’s what love is? This is what we’re reduced

  to? This is what love reduces people to?

  None of my siblings got out without damage

  from our father in our lives, just like our mother.

  We carry the wounds that have healed. The ones

  that teach you that life can be a real shit sandwich,

  and so can love. That certain people hurt you and

  frequently they do it on purpose. You can’t even

  trust your own parents, because they too could

  leave you in any moment and then there you are

  alone and insecure with your hopes down the drain

  and your heart turned to stone.

  After having calmed Danny down and

  reassuring mom that everything’s going to be fine,

  that I will always take care of them, I go back to

  the pub. Tonight I have to work even if I’d like to

  run to her to find out how things are going with

  her father.

  So I make my way to the door of Only4you with

  my morale in the toilet, worried about my family

  and in desperate need of some dark liquid to drown

  my anxiety in.

  I feel a wreck, and without any certainties. I

  think that my life is a big disaster, everything

  always goes wrong. There doesn’t seem to be any

  hope to breathe in any happiness and love when

  people hurt each other, deliberately trading barbs

  with little regard for the consequences.

  What’s the use of even trying? What’s the use of

  trying to find a reason to go on?

  Life bends you.

  Love breaks you.

  Hope fogs your mind and then shows itself for

  what it really is, just a little cloud that doesn’t

  permit you to see reality clearly.

  I am so worn down by what’s happened and

  wrapped in clouds of dark thoughts. I raise my

  glance and her eyes capture me, they tie me to her

  and drag me to her feet.

  After having held my breath and my rage for

  hours, I completely melt in her arms where I fall

  hard without thinking of the consequences.

  She holds me tight and whispers words I don’t

  hear with my ears but which have a healing effect

  on my open, bleeding wounds.

  Lost and insecure … You found me, you found

  me … Lyin’ on the floor … Surrounded,

  surrounded.

  The words of the song playing in the pub reveal

  what has been hidden to my own eyes. What I

  didn’t want to see or understand. What I denied

  with all my heart.

  There it is, damn it.

  There’s my hope.

  She is my hope.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Shh … everything’s alright.”

  I rest my head on her shoulder and just let it go.

  My tears fall and in so doing unknot that twisted

  mass that had me suffocating in a terrible excuse

  of a life only to escape to something that could

  hurt me even more.

  Where were you? Where were you? … Just a

  little late … You found me, you found me.6

  I don’t say anything, I just let her hold me like a

  child abandoned by his father in his moment of

  need. Like a boy who had to drop out of school

  and forget about his dreams to take care of his

  family. Like a boy who was trapped in a spiral of

  bullshit and false convictions which brought him

  even lower and more needy of affection.

  That boy needed to be reassured and brought

  back home. He needed to grow up and become a

  man.

  6 You Found Me, The Fray, The Fray

  “I need you,” I whisper into her hair. “I need

  you, Erin. It really terrifies me because I’ve never

  needed anyone in my life. But now,” I say, raising

  my head, “I need you.”

  She looks at me and she’s so beautiful and
true

  and … mine.

  She is here for me.

  And it’s real, even if it scares me.

  She shines like a light on a stormy night that

  shows you the way home safe and sound.

  I take her with both hands, not careful about the

  fact that we’re in the pub full of customers and

  I’ve probably got everyone looking at us, that

  Rain’s probably in the corner somewhere crying. I

  don’t give a shit about anything. The only thing

  that matters to me is in front of me and I’m

  looking her in the eyes.

  “It’s you,” I whisper before smiling like a

  crying idiot.

  “It’s me, what?”

  “You’re my hope, Erin O’Neill.”

  18

  Erin

  His hope.

  I’m his hope.

  I look at him dreamily with my heart galloping

  in my chest and my head and tears flooding my

  eyes.

  He is handsome and sweet.

  And he’s mine.

  I caress his face, which is magnificently

  covered in beard, and I smile at him, so thankful

  for opening his heart to me, for letting me in

  despite everything.

  I draw closer to his lips and brush them

  delicately, tasting his tears that fall undisturbed

  since the minute he set foot in the pub and our eyes

  met.

  “Erin!”

  I turn from this beautiful dream, which I would

  not like to wake up from because my father just

  walked in the door of Only4you.

  ~ ~ ~

  He had called me to let me know his flight was

  going to be late and that he’d take a taxi so I didn’t

  have to wait for him.

  We separate from each other immediately,

  embarrassed and shaken up to face what I’ve

  feared for weeks.

  “Do you want to explain to me what’s going on

  here?” he asks, closing the distance between us.

  “Dad,” I start, but Patrick moves to the side and

  I can read in my dad’s eyes that the revelation has

  hit him full on.

  “Erin … what…”

  “Dad, I can explain.” I begin swallowing hard

  but Patrick steps in front of me and does

  something I never would have expected.

  “Sir,” he says, looking him right in the eyes.

  “Erin and I wanted to tell you before, but we didn’t

  think it was appropriate on the phone.”

  What the devil is he doing?

  I pull him on his arm to get him to look at me,

  but he gives me a very confident and disarming

  smile that makes me shut up on the spot.

  “Erin … so that’s it? You’re pregnant?”

  “Let’s not do this here, Dad. Let’s go upstairs.”

  He nods, confused, and I lead him towards the

  door that leads to the stairs and everyone in the

  pub resumes their business. By now the show is

  over. As I walk slowly with my head down, I feel

  some fingers interlacing with mine. I freeze and

  raise my head.

  “What are you doing?” I ask him in a whisper

  with my father at our heels.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Patrick—”

  “I’m staying, Erin.”

  I nod gratefully and feel the anxiety fleeing

  from every part of my body.

  He is with me.

  He is here to stay.

  His closeness and his tight grip on my hand give

  me courage and make me feel less alone.

  We go up the stairs in silence; I open the door

  and let my father in.

  “So … this is where you live?” he asks, looking

  around. “And does he live here too?” he continues

  without even looking at Patrick.

  “Dad, please…”

  “Erin,” he says calmly (my father is not the type

  of man to raise his voice). “I have just returned to

  you. I left you alone for a few months in safe

  hands and now I find you without a house,

  pregnant and tied to a penniless bum who works in

  a bar?”

  “The penniless bum is standing right here,”

  Patrick sarcastically chimes in. “And he doesn’t

  work at the pub, he owns it.”

  “Oh, please excuse me,” my father intervenes.

  “But you’re one of four owners, isn’t that right?”

  “Five,” he corrects. “Now there are five of us.”

  “Oh, even better. A dive bar in a neighborhood

  of drunks and beggars, its ownership divided into

  five parts of which you have one. Congratulations

  on your choice, Erin.”

  I bite my lip so as to stop myself bursting out

  crying, but Patrick puts his hands on my shoulders

  and squeezes, letting me feel his nearness and his

  warmth.

  And I fall apart, I start crying like a baby

  because I feel the shame hit me and the uncertainty

  about the future hits me full on.

  So Patrick turns me towards him and holds me

  in his arms, gently kissing my forehead. He

  brushes my hair and tells me it’s all going to be

  okay and that he’s with me.

  “So that’s how it is, huh? You got my daughter

  pregnant?”

  “We’re expecting a baby,” Patrick corrects him.

  We’re waiting.

  Oh my goodness. His words fill me with

  security. Suddenly I’m not alone or helpless or

  intimidated by my father. I feel strong, sure and

  fortunate. Because there is a life growing in me

  and because Patrick is saying that in his way he

  wants to be part of my life.

  Of us.

  I lift my head from his chest and dry my tears. I

  look at him for a moment before taking his hand

  and squeezing it hard in mine. He let’s out his

  breath and gives me a big smile and I return it right

  back.

  Then, I turn to my father, feeling proud and with

  my head held high. I tell him: “We’re expecting a

  baby.”

  My father shakes his head and begins pacing the

  apartment. Then he stops, clears his throat and

  speaks to me in a calm tone of voice.

  “Okay dear, what’s done is done. There is no

  problem. You will come with me and I will take

  care of everything. You will have the baby and we

  will find someone to take care of it so that you will

  be able to continue with your life and—”

  “Dad,” I interrupt him. “This is my life.”

  “This?” he looks at me, unbelieving. “Working

  part-time in a pub for some guy that got you

  pregnant? That’s what you’re aspiring to? We had

  plans, Erin.”

  “She’s grown up, sir. She’s grown into a

  wonderful woman. And she’s my woman.” Patrick

  intervenes with eyes full of pride and with his

  chest puffed out with emotion.

  “Good lord, Erin! How could you have fallen so

  low? Look at him! He’s a complete failure. How

  old are you, lad? Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?”

  “Thirty,” Patrick corrects him once again, and

  once again my dad replies with the same words.

  “This gets even
better! Thirty years old and still

  here playing barman and what? Wait a second,

  you’re a musician, right? What do you think you

  can give my daughter? Come on, let’s hear it.”

  Patrick does not freak out even though I can see

  his jaw is tense. I squeeze his hand hard to give

  him my support, hoping he looks at me and that he

  knows how much this situation is upsetting me.

  But he doesn’t. He just looks at my father with a

  cold stare and when I start to fear the worst, he

  simply says: “All of me. I will give her all of me.

  It’s the only thing she needs right now.”

  My father raises his hands to the heavens

  exhaustedly then looks at me. “I’d like to talk to

  you in private, Erin. Maybe tomorrow, when

  things have calmed down a bit.”

  He leans over, gives me a kiss on the cheek and

  leaves, leaving us in this apartment which

  suddenly feels too tight and too silent.

  Patrick

  I take a few deep breaths to calm the rage I’m

  feeling right now. Okay, it’s all right. He found out

  Erin is pregnant and I told him the baby was mine.

  I understand it’s a shock, a surprise, whatever you

  want to call it. But what I didn’t hear was one

  word of support, comprehension or love come out

  of his mouth. What the fuck? Not even a ‘how are

  you doing?’, how about a ‘you okay?’ or maybe a

  ‘are you and the baby well?’

  Nothing.

  I turn slowly to look at her. Her eyes are fixed

  on the door her dad just walked out of. I let her

  hand go and start to walk away when she grabs my

  wrist and literally throws herself in my arms. This

  time I don’t hesitate even a second to pull her

  towards me.

  “I’m so terribly sorry for the things he said,”

  she mutters, burying her face in my chest.

  I rub her nape and kiss her hair.

  “Are you alright?” I ask, for I’m worried about

  how she must be feeling.

  “No,” she whispers. “It was really bad. He

  shouldn’t have said those things to you. He doesn’t

  even know you, I’m sorry. I feel so guilty, you

  should not have said—”

  “Erin.” I stop her before she can go on. “I don’t

  care what people say or think about me, including

  your father. The only thing that matters to me is

  what you think.”

  She looks at me through red tear-stained eyes,

  for she’s been crying so much.

  “I think you’re a wonderful man, Patrick. And

  that I’m the luckiest woman on the earth because