And that’s how Antonia knew she couldn’t leave.

“Oh god, I’ve made a mistake,” she whispered to an empty cottage. Deep in her heart, she needed to run next door and tell Aiden she loved him. He pushed her away last night, but she wasn’t going out like that. If she were Augusta, she would say the words first, before Bryon could have looked at her with those sad green eyes. Aiden could take it or leave it, but if she left Ireland without saying the words, she’d regret it until she found another man like him. Who knows when that will happen?

Before she could contemplate becoming an old spinster, Antonia grabbed her keys and ran to Aiden’s cottage. When she got to his door, she was puzzled to see his keys in the lock. A bag of garbage leaned against his stoop. Her heart dropped in her chest. “Oh no...”

She let herself inside his cottage. “Aiden,” she called out.

The space was empty. Antonia ran from room to room shouting his name, but his clothes and suitcase were gone. Even the refrigerator was empty. Oh no, oh no... This was the mess she was afraid of. If she hadn’t tap danced around the real issue, she could have said her piece last night. Antonia exited the cottage and ran straight to Mr. Creely’s rental office. She hoped he was there and didn’t believe in customer confidentiality. She needed Aiden’s information as soon as possible. She banged on his door and prayed for a miracle. “Please be home,” she whispered.

“I’m a’coming, hold on now.” She heard his muffled voice from behind the door.

“Mr. Creely, it’s Antonia Harper,” she yelled. “I need your help.”

The old man opened the door, drawing his robe closer to his small frame. “Ms. Harper? What’s wrong?”

“Aiden left,” she said in a hurried voice. “He’s gone.”

Creely peered at her. “Well that happens from time to time,” he said easily. “Visitors can leave early, but they have to pay for the full stay.”

She shook her head. “No, you don’t understand,” she said. “We had a fight, I said some stupid things. Actually, he said some stupid things too. But I didn’t know he’d leave.”

In the proper context, Creely nodded. “Nothing a little cake can’t take care of?”

Antonia tried to ignore his meaning. “No, and I need your help.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I need you to give me his contact information,” she breathed. “A phone number or something. Anything would be helpful.”

The old man hesitated for a moment. “I don’t know...”

“Please,” she begged. “I have to find him and tell him something.”

“You really like him, huh?” he said with a sly grin.

She nodded. “I think I do, but I need to talk to him.”

He gave her a good long look in the eye before shaking his head. “Aye, come inside and I’ll see what I can find for ye.”

“Exit Connemara Loop. Stay in right lane for N59,” Vera’s mechanical voice intoned.