“She doesn’t love me,” he said. “Mam, she’s an American on holiday who has to go back home sometime. Better to cut the rope now rather than delay the inevitable.”

His mother scoffed as Soircha brought the tea tray from the kitchen and quietly set it on the coffee table. “You’re in love with her, right?” asked the child. His niece settled beside him and helped herself to a biscuit. “This is just like the movies.”

“This is not something I want to talk about with a twelve-year-old in the room,” Aiden said, ignoring Soircha.

“From the mouths of babes,” Clare murmured, staring at the child. “She’s right, you know that? You’re in love with the girl and you mucked it up on purpose. I can’t think of a better reason why you’d behave so irresponsibly.”

“Mam...”

“Well it’s true. I saw the two of you together in your little boat. She was a delightful girl and you were just as bashful as you were going on your first grade-school date.”

“I don’t have the time to romance when I’m trying to get tenure,” Aiden said. When he heard himself say the words, even he didn’t believe them.

“You didn’t have time for romance when you weren’t working toward tenure,” Clare said, sitting down. “If you are to cut a rope, Aiden, it should be the one attached to Liam.”

God, I hate it when she’s right.

More often than not, Clare Hannigan was right on the money. This proved to be no different. “What do you love about her?” Soircha asked as she munched on her biscuit.

Aiden looked down at his niece, who was much more mature than he, and sighed. “So many things, I suppose. I love her sense of humor. She’s good for a craic and she’s very witty. I love her smile and her laugh. She’s smart, sometimes much smarter than I am. Antonia’s infuriating and passionate and...beautiful...” He trailed off when he remembered waking up beside her. She was furiously plugging away on her novel, radiant from the glow of good sleep and a good romp. He wanted to tell her in that moment that he loved her, but something held him back. Even before he knew Liam would blow into their lives, Aiden had been convinced that a relationship with her was too good to be true. No one could ever be that lucky.

“She sounds lovely,” Soircha said.

A sharp stab of anguish pierced his heart as he hung his head in despair. “Christ, what’ve I done?”

Soircha patted his back. “You can still call her.”

“You can still call her,” Clare repeated in a softer tone.

Aiden was a fool. He’d done the very thing that he hated his father for: run away. He ran in the black of night and drove until he came back to his lonely house. “I can’t,” he said.

“Why not?” Clare said.

“I don’t have her bleeding phone number, Mam. We lived right next door to one another and I didn’t think to ask her for it.”