“What are you saying?” I asked, suddenly terrified of her answer.
“I’ve always wanted kids, but I wanted to be established and have a career first, so I focused on that. When I got married, I thought we’d start a family right away, but he was always career-minded and wanted to wait. When he eventually wanted to start, I was having doubts about our marriage, and didn’t want to bring children in to a shaky relationship … Then we got divorced. Now, I’m thirty-five, and I feel my opportunity slipping away. Even if I met someone and we decided in a few years we wanted to have kids, I’d be lucky to get pregnant with one, let alone have the three I’d always imagined.”
“So, you’re saying you want to have a family right away.”
Bronagh’s eyes were shimmering when she said, “What I’m saying is that I do want to have kids, and although I like you, and enjoy what we have together, I can’t afford to waste my time right now. We’re simply at different stages in our lives.”
I sprang to my feet, anger, hurt, and humiliation warring within me.
“A waste of time … Is that what you think this is?” I asked, hurt winning out and making me feel things I never wanted to feel.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Brendan,” she began, rising to her feet as well.
“Bronagh,” I pleaded, trying to remain calm and not lose my shit. “We’ve only been seeing each other a few weeks. No couple would be hinging their relationship on kids at this point, there are too many factors. I mean, what if I couldn’t have them, or we stayed together … tried, and it didn’t work out? Give it time. Give us time.”
She closed her eyes, shaking her head slowly and causing my gut to twist painfully.
“But we’ve already had the conversation. We can’t take it back. I know now that you’re never going to want kids. I can’t go back and erase that knowledge. Is there even the slightest possibility that you’ll change your mind?”
I could tell by the sadness in her eyes that she knew my answer before I gave it, but still I responded, “No, Freckles, I don’t see myself changing my mind.”
Bronagh held up her hand ask if she was going to touch me, like she needed the contact, then thought better of it and dropped her hand limply at her side.
“I guess that’s it then … I’m sorry, Bren.”
“Wait,” I said, holding up my hands and hoping she didn’t notice the crack in my voice. “Let me just say one more thing. I know it’s been a short period of time, but I’m falling for you, Bronagh … I’ve never felt about someone the way I do with you, and I hope you’ll think about that, before you make any rash decisions. I’ll go. I’ll give you space, but you know where to find me if you change your mind.”
When she didn’t respond, just watched me with that heartbreaking expression on her face, I turned to leave.
“See you in class,” I managed, then got out of there as fast as I could, before I did something embarrassing like cry in front of her.
Fuck! I thought as my heart seemed to explode in my chest. I paced back and forth on the sidewalk as I tried to come to terms with what just happened.
This was why I never got into a serious relationship.
This was why I fucked girls, enjoyed the pleasure, and left feelings out of the equation.
This was why I should have run the other direction when I saw Bronagh at the club that night.
I’d finally fallen in love, and the woman I wanted to give my heart to, didn’t want it. I‘d obviously totally misread the situation, if she could bail so quickly. I’d brought her to meet my family and all the people who meant anything to me, and given her more of myself than I’d ever given anyone. And I wasn’t enough.
I needed a drink and my guitar, then I would focus on finishing up school at the top of my class. Maybe getting the job with Chef Agard and moving to France wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Even if I got the job, I wouldn’t leave right away, and if in that time Bronagh didn’t change her mind, leaving for a different country would be better than living here with the memories of us at every turn.
Chapter Eighteen ~ Bronagh
“Tell me I did the right thing?”
I was still in my pajamas, even though it was four in the afternoon, and wasn’t even embarrassed that my friends had found me curled up on the couch, empty bags of Doritos and Peanut M & M’s littering the ground around me.
“Well, it sounds like you’re doing what you think you have to, but Nonie, the waste of time thing was pretty harsh.” Ming’s soft hand on my brow eased the harshness of her words.
“I know,” I whined, slightly embarrassed that I was reduced to whining. “I didn’t mean it that way … I was just speaking without thinking, and that’s what came out. “I peeked out from under my curtain of hair and cried, “You should have seen the look on his face. It was awful.”
“He’s a big boy, I’m sure he’ll get over it,” Ming said, wiping orange crumbs off of the cushion before sitting next to me.
“I don’t know, Ming, he looked heartbroken. I’m the first person he ever opened up to, and I totally shut him down.”
“Are you sure this is what you want to do, honey?” Cass asked from her perch on my chair. “If you’re both so broken up over this, maybe you were too rash?”
I shook my head, even as my heart lurched at her words.
“He doesn’t want kids … ever. You know how badly I want ‘em,” I hiccupped, sitting up and pushing my blankets around me, cocooning myself in.
“He’s young though … Maybe he’ll change his mind.”
“But, I’m not. I don’t have time to wait and see if he will. What if he never does?”
“Is it just his own kids he doesn’t want, or any kids at all?”
“What are you talking about?” I wasn’t sure if my brain was mush from my crying jag, but I had no idea where Cass was going with that question.
“I mean, what if he met a woman with a child, would he not date her, or is he open to being a stepfather?”
“Are you telling her to have a kid with someone else, then chuck the guy and get back together with Brendan?” Ming asked, her face blank. We were both used to Cass’s crazy way of thinking, but this seemed out of left field, even for her.
“No, not exactly. But what if you were artificially inseminated, or adopted a kid … It wouldn’t technically be his child, and you’d get to be a mom. Win/win.”
I stared at her for a moment, trying to process what she was saying, but still coming up empty. I shook my head slowly and replied, “No, I don’t think so, because if we were together, raising a child … any child … he’d still be a father.”
Cass put her back up and said, “Jeez, you don’t have to shout, I’m just trying to think outside the box.” The she gave me a big smile and a wink.
I smiled in return, unable to help myself, and was overcome with gratitude at having these two women in my life.
“You’re crazy,” I said with a small laugh.
“You just needed to get outside of your head for a moment, and let go of some of the guilt,” Cass said softly, reaching her hand out for mine. “Neither of you are wrong, Bronagh, and you can’t feel bad for wanting what you want, just like you shouldn’t be angry with him for not wanting it. But I have to ask, if you are this upset, and he’s devastated over you breaking it off, are you positive there’s no way you can work it out?”
I leaned my head against the back of the couch and closed my eyes, wishing with all my might that there was a way, then I sighed deeply and looked sadly at my friend.
“I don’t think so … If I talked him into having a kid, I’m afraid he’d feel trapped, and if I gave up kids to be with him, I’m worried that I’d end up resenting him.”
“Why don’t you give it some time,” Ming said, always the levelheaded one of our trio. “If in a few weeks you’re okay, then you’ll move on. No harm, no foul. But, if you still feel like you do now, then maybe you need to re-evaluate what you want.”
“That makes sense,” I r
eplied. “But do you really think it’ll take weeks? I don’t want to feel this way any longer.”
“Sorry, babe, it comes with the territory. But, I think I know what will make you feel better…”
“What?”
“A hot shower, your favorite jeans, and a comfy T-shirt. We’ll pick up some sushi, a bottle of wine, and a couple Melissa McCarthy movies. How does that sound?”
“Make that three bottles of wine,” Cass added with a grin, “One for each of us … and a sleepover. Girl’s night!”
I smiled gratefully at my best friends and said, “That sounds perfect. Thanks, you guys.”
“Anytime, you know that,” Cass said, crossing over to give me a hug, then pulling back with a curl of her lip. “Make that a long, hot shower.”
“Shut up,” I laughed. “If I remember correctly, you smelled pretty ripe after Tommy broke up with you senior year.”
Cass cocked her head and put her hands on her hips.
“He broke up with me on my birthday, because he wanted to go out with ‘All-the-way Ally.’ I was devastated.”
“You didn’t shower, or change out of those hot-pink sweat pants for a whole week,” Ming added, getting in on the fun. “You needed more than a girl’s night, you needed an intervention.”
“Whatever, it was high school, everything that happened when we were teenagers was amplified a hundred percent.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” I rose from the couch, roused from my funk and ready to wash the despair off of me. “See you guys in a bit?”
Ming looked at her watch and said, “Give us thirty minutes.”
“Perfect,” I said, then gave them both a hug and said, “I love you guys.”
“We love you too, Bronagh, and we’ve always got your back. No matter what.”
Chapter Nineteen ~ Brendan
I was so intent on the words I was writing that I barely registered the sound of my door opening and footsteps coming toward me. My fingers were stained various shades of blue and black from the numerous pens and pencils I’d used over the last couple of days.
“Jesus.” I jumped at the word muttered from behind me, and turned to see Brady surveying the room with dueling expressions of disgust and admiration.
There were mostly empty pizza boxes, take-out cartons, and crumpled-up pieces of paper strewn across every available surface, and taking up a good chunk of the floor.
After I’d left Bronagh’s, I’d come straight home, grabbed my guitar, and started writing. I’d eaten when I’d gotten hungry, and hydrated when it was necessary, but I hadn’t slept. I’d been too consumed with creative energy and I didn’t want to lose it.
“How long have you been at it?” Brady asked, clearing off a chair and sitting across from me.
“Since the barbecue.” I rubbed my face, conscious of the fact that I had four days worth of growth.
“Seriously?” Brady asked, running his hand over his short, dark hair. “That was days ago … What happened?”
I finished my thought, picked the guitar up off of my lap and placed it on the floor, leaning it up against the chair, then looked at my brother.
“Bronagh ended it.”
“Why?” Brady asked seriously. “Did something happen? Something at Brock’s?”
I pulled my beanie off of my head, took a rubber band off of my wrist, and secured my hair back, before putting the knit cap back on. I was overdue for a haircut.
“Nothing that anyone there did exactly,” I began, not really anxious to talk about it, but realizing that if I didn’t tell Brady what he wanted to know, he’d go all pit bull on me and get the information himself. “Being around Dec, and everyone else’s kids, brought up a conversation that we hadn’t had yet. I told her I don’t want kids, and that was a deal breaker for her.”
Hoping that was enough information to hold him off, I picked my guitar back up and started strumming. I’d come up with about five decent songs, but was stuck on this last one. I needed to work through it.
“Since when do you not want to have kids?”
I bit back my frustrated sigh. I’d been hoping he’d get the hint and leave me to finish what I was doing, but apparently, he was feeling chatty.
Great timing.
“Since … ever.”
“Why?”
I put the guitar back down and looked at my brother, exasperated.
“Do we have to do this now?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, do you want me to leave so you can wallow in your own filth?” Brady said sardonically. “When’s the last time you sprayed yourself with water, Bren? You obviously haven’t been cleaning up after yourself, but at least you’ve been eating and drinking plenty of water … I mean, shit, did this woman really have her claws in you that good? You’ve only been seeing her for a few weeks.”
“You’re fucking hilarious, bro…” I replied, angered at his lack of sympathy. “What the hell would you know about it anyway? You aren’t exactly a pro when it comes to relationships … And you didn’t even give Bronagh a chance. Barely said five words to her at Brock’s place, so don’t pretend to know her, or what happened between us.”
Brady looked surprised at my outburst, but didn’t say anything further. He sat there, watching me, waiting patiently for me to fill him in on what was going on.
I hated that about him.
Already feeling guilty for talking to my brother that way, I sighed heavily and sat back in my chair.
“I don’t want kids and she does. She said that she’s running out of time to have as many kids as she wanted, and is getting a late start because of some stuff that happened in her past. She can’t continue a relationship with me, knowing that I don’t want the same things she does … It’s a waste of her time.”
Brady’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward.
“Did she say that?”
“Yup, in so many words.”
I closed my eyes and braced myself on my hands.
“I fell hard and fast, man. Things were going great and the sudden way it ended hit me hard. I didn’t expect it. I get where she’s coming from though, I just wished things weren’t the way they are.” I brought my eyes to his. “I love her.”
“Why?” he asked, causing me to scowl.
“What the fuck kind of question is that?”
“A valid one,” he replied, sounding like an ass. “Why do you love her? What’s so special about her?”
“You’re pissing me off…”
“Just answer the question.”
“Shit, Brady, she’s amazing. She’s a fabulous chef, business owner, teacher … She had an asshole for a husband and when she realized it, was strong enough to leave him. She’s funny, beautiful, and doesn’t take any shit from me.” I thought about everything I’d been feeling over the last few days, and the lyrics I’d been laying down. “She makes me feel like a man. I want to take care of her, feed her, worship her … She makes me into someone I’ve always wanted to be, but didn’t think I had in me.”
Brady nodded, taking a few moments to process what he wanted to say before speaking.
“That’s a great answer, and, brother, I want that for you … Are you sure you’re making the right decision? I’ve always thought you’d be a great dad. Watching you with everyone’s kids, starting with Cal’s, and now with Dec. You’re a natural. Kids love you and you seem to get a kick out of them. You have an ease with them that I’ll never have. I have to say, I’m shocked to hear you say you don’t want them … Are you sure?”
“Look,” I started, tired of this conversation already. “What happened with Mom and Dad, then Brock … I don’t want to do that to a kid. I like kids, don’t get me wrong, it just feels selfish to bring them into this world, and it’s never something I wanted.”
“Maybe it’s time for you to re-evaluate that.”
I stared at him briefly, then turned back to the pages before me and began playing the song that was bugging me. When I got to the part about her walking away witho
ut a trace, Brady interrupted.
“Sounds great, man, maybe you should write about how you had the ability to keep her, but chose to let her walk.”
I looked over my shoulder as Brady walked out as quietly as he’d entered, then turned back, the wheels in my head spinning with his new take on the song.
He’d just unlocked the piece I was looking for.
Chapter Twenty ~ Bronagh
Whenever I felt down, or out of sorts, being in the kitchen always helped to relieve my funk. I love the sounds, smells, and tastes that come from working with food, and it’s the one thing that was always sure to bring me peace when I was upset.
That’s why I’d been spending as much time in Callaghan’s as possible since I’d broken things off with Brendan. My girls had been a great diversion for a bit, but after seeing Brendan in class during the day, and getting the cold shoulder, I’d needed to fill my hours doing something meaningful.
“Cornish Pasty, Bangers and Mash, and two orders of hot wings for table seven,” one of my servers called out as he pushed the ticket up into the metal holder.
I was busy completing the order, working side by side with two of my long-employed chefs, when the hostess came back and made a beeline for me, stopping when she was close enough to whisper in my ear.
“There’s a man here to see you.”
I pulled back and turned my head so I could see her when I asked, “What man? Did he ask for me specifically?”
“Yes,” she whispered. I wasn’t sure why it was such a big secret, but my stomach dropped when she said, “He’s tall, with dark skin and dark hair … really dreamy eyes, and a old Whiskey Heat T-shirt.”
I took a gulp and tried to steady my suddenly racing heart.
“Can you finish this up?” I asked my sous chef, then gave the hostess a small smile. “Thanks, Heather, I’ll be right out.”
What is he doing here?
Did he change his mind?
Did he come here to win me back, or is he here for something else entirely?