"No problem," I assure him. "There will be others."
***
I'm getting ready for bed. It's nearly midnight and I can barely keep my eyes open. We had made it back to Dublin in good time and Cillian dropped me off at my flat with a quick kiss to my forehead and a promise that he would come back over to stay the night with me.
That was over six hours ago and I have heard nothing else other than a brief text from him almost two hours ago that said, "Making progress. Hope to see you soon."
I debate over what to do for a few moments, and then decide to call him. I have every right to check in and see how he's doing.
The phone rings several times and I am convinced it's getting ready to go to voice mail when he answers. His voice is whispered. "Renner. What's up?"
"I was just calling to see how things were going?"
"Hang on," he says, and I wait a few moments. His voice is louder when he says, "Sorry I haven't called."
"That's okay. I was just getting ready to go to bed and wanted to see if you were still coming over tonight."
He sighs, and I can envision him combing his fingers through his hair. "I don't think tonight's going to be good. She's having a really rough time and I hate to abandon her right now."
"Sure," I say confidently. "That's not a problem. I hope everything goes well."
Before he can answer, I hear Maeve in the background. "Cillian, please come back in here," and something about her tone of voice grates on my nerves. It sounds whining with a hint of sexuality to it. Maybe I'm imagining it, but I don't think so.
"Look... I got to go," he says abruptly, whispering again. "I'll call you in the morning."
And then he hangs up without even saying goodbye.
I put my phone down, staring at it for a long while. Dread gnaws at my stomach, and I can't help but feel that I'm stuck in some spider's sticky web created by Maeve.
I'm hurt he was whispering to me as if he was ashamed I was on the phone. I hate he didn't say goodbye to me. I hate that she called out to him as if her needs were far superior to anyone else's.
Most of all, I hate that I feel any of this, because when it boils down to it, Maeve has a serious problem and I'm ashamed that I'm jealous of her time with Cillian.
CHAPTER 20
Cillian
I disconnect the call to Renner and grip it tightly. I want to hurl my phone into the wall; I'm so angry and frustrated right now.
I'm angry at Maeve. I'm pissed because she has a problem, and I'm the one that has to deal with it. I know that's unfair to her, but I'm f**king pissed all the same. I hate her weakness, the same way I hated it in my Da. I've been sitting here for almost six f**king hours trying to talk sense into her, and it's going nowhere.
When I first arrived at her apartment, she was a mess. She was sobbing and lamenting about her life. At first, it was about the stresses with the band, and then it was about me and how she missed what we had. She even had the nerve to tell me that she was stressed because she was worried about my relationship with Renner, and she wasn't sure that she was the girl for me.
She could tell that pissed me off, particularly when I told her that I wouldn't listen to her badmouth Renner. I almost walked out on her, but then she started backpedaling. She apologized, and then wanted to tell me all about her crappy life.
She'd never shared in the past with me much of the details as to why she was estranged from her parents, but surprise of surprises, it was because they were both alcoholics and it was far worse than I could have imagined. I listed with acid churning as she told me her father would molest her when he was drunk, and that her mother knew about it and did nothing to stop it. I sat and listened to her patiently, my heart sick with how much she suffered. I also commiserated because I know something about the subject of alcoholism and abuse, although she doesn't know just how much.
I'm also angry with myself, because as I sat there and listened to Maeve pour her heart out to me, I actually zoned out a few times and thought about Renner. But then I would shake my head and focus back on Maeve because she needed someone to listen to her. Her experiences are different than mine, but just as traumatizing in a very different way.
Just when I thought I had her calmed down... just when I thought I could make my break so I could go be with Renner, she would start a fresh round of sobs that had me trying to back her down off the ledge again.
I had stepped into the living room to take Renner's call, hoping for a little privacy. I had wanted to stay on that call with Renner for as long as possible, because just her voice coated me like a balm. Then Maeve's voice echoed out from the bedroom, calling me back into her personal nightmare.
Shoving my phone in my pocket, I make my way back there. She's been lying in her bed since I got here and my back is killing me from perching on the edge of it as we talk. I alternately pat her leg or reach over to the nightstand to grab some tissues for her to wipe her eyes.
Staring down at her now as she lays there, my heart lurches for Maeve's misery. She looks so lost and fragile—I'm suddenly terrified that nothing I say or do will make much of a difference in the long run. But what I have to remember is that I just need to get her through this day, and hopefully tomorrow will be better for her.
"Who was that?" she asks, in a somewhat petulant voice.
"Renner," I say quietly.
"Oh. Well, if you need to go be with her, I understand. I've taken up enough of your time."