Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“This is Callia,” I say to Orla as we approach them.
I can feel my daughter’s gaze on me. Her eyes are the same colour as mine, but they’re filled with innocence and purity. Mine haven’t looked like that since I was fifteen.
“Hi, Callia,” Orla says in a soft voice. I’m not sure what she’s been through, but she’s definitely not the same person I was with when I was in my feckin’ teens. “It’s nice ta meet ye.”
They acknowledge each other with a nod. I release Callia’s hand before settlin’ on the sofa and observjn’ the three women who are now unexpectedly in my life. Granted, Callia has been around fer a few years, but havin’ all three of them here is feckin’ with my head.
Callia sits beside me, and I wait fer Orla ta start explainin’. From the tremble in her hands as she holds the cup of tea, I can tell she’s nervous. She doesn’t look up at me, her focus on the cup instead.
“I wanted ta come to ye fer so long, but I couldn’t,” she tells me in a soft, nervous whisper.
Fear tinges her words, which only makes me wonder what the feckin’ hell is goin’ on.
“And now is the perfect time. Is it?” I challenge as frustration takes hold of me. I don’t know why I’m angry at her, but I can’t stop myself from feelin’ the emotions racin’ through me.
“Can we talk alone?” Orla asks, lookin’ up at me.
There’s fear in her eyes. Somethin’ isn’t right. She’s scared, and at first, I put it down ta the fact she hadn’t told me about our daughter, but deep down, my gut tells me there’s somethin’ else she’s hidin’.
I look to Callia who offers me a nod of support and a gentle smile. “Go with her. I’ll stay with Aine,” she tells me.
My daughter’s name, pronounced Awnya, is beautiful and suits the pretty girl who’s sittin’ drinkin’ her juice quietly. She’s so well-behaved. I know Orla has done a wonderful job raisin’ her.
I push to my feet and lead Orla out into the garden. The moment we’re free of the house, she stops and looks up at me, regret shinin’ in her eyes.
“I’m sorry I waited this long,” she tells me. “But I couldn’t come ta see ye when I was with my husband. He wanted me ta focus on our family, not the past. Even after I left him, I was too scared ta come and see you. I realise now it was stupid of me to have kept her a secret.” She shakes her head and turns away from me.
Now I have feckin’ questions.
“What do ye mean?” Even as I ask, I begin ta suspect the happy life she’s been portrayin’ hasn’t been as blissful as she’s been lettin’ on.
My suspicions are confirmed when Orla looks back at me and she’s cryin’.
“I needed our little girl safe,” she tells me. “If I had come ta ye, he would have hurt me. And I couldn’t let anythin’ happen ta me before ye knew about Aine.”
“I don’t understand,” I finally find my voice as I look at the woman I used ta know so well. Now she’s nothin’ more than a stranger.
“I think ye do,” she tells me. “I had ta make sure my daughter was safe. Our daughter. He didn’t love her like a da should. She wasn’t his and he knew it. He didn’t accept her.”
“And yet, ye married him?” Disgust is clear in my tone as I look at her.
I can’t blame her. And I shouldn’t judge her. I’ve made some choices I’m not proud of in the past, but this is more than I can stand right now.
The sweet little girl inside was in danger, and it’s only now I’m good enough to call on fer help. More anger swarms inside me. It’s like bees attackin’ as I feel the pain from what she’s put my wee little girl through.
“Do ye really think ye can walk in here and expect me ta help ye?” My tone is drenched in anger as I glare at her. I still can’t believe I thought I was in love with her. Now, I see her in a very different light.
I thought I loved her once. But now I know that’s not a feelin’ I’d ever experienced until Callia came into my life. Orla thought she had me back then. She didn’t. I was never hers.
“I know I should have come ta ye sooner, Ronan.”
Even her usin’ my name has my blood boilin’. “Ye don’t get ta call me that ever again,” I growl at her. “I have a daughter ye decided ta hide from me. If you hadn’t left that bastard, would ye have told me about her?” My words come out in an angry hiss, and I notice how Orla winces at my rage.