“Yep, stay safe, baby.”

She waited until she’d hung up before she started crying. Only Diane Harper, in her own strange confusing way, could say the right thing when she needed it the most. Antonia wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and breathed in deeply. Today, Antonia would not settle.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Do your parents know you have a Facebook account?” Aiden asked as he hovered over Soircha and her laptop.

“Everyone has Facebook.”

“I don’t have one,” he replied in a dry tone. “Or a Twitter.”

Soircha laughed openly as she typed. “That’s because you’re old.”

Aiden straightened up and looked at his niece. She had certainly become feistier since he last saw her. “Mother, could you tell this child that thirty-eight is not old?”

“Well, even I have a Facebook account, dear,” Clare called from the kitchen.

“That hardly proves anything,” he said. “Are you sure you can find her?”

“Already did,” Soircha said after pointing and clicking. “Antonia ‘Toni’ Harper from Chicago.”

Aiden leaned back over the computer. The profile picture was of her sitting in a city park. She wasn’t looking at the camera lens, instead her gaze was directed behind the photographer. Her face was frozen in laughter, her brown eyes squinted against the sun. Her beautiful seemed so effortless, so easy and true.

“She so pretty,” Soircha said, resting her chin against her fist. “I love her curly hair.”

“I do too,” he said. “Scroll through her stuff.”

“This is it,” she said. “I have to send her a friend request to look at any more.”

“Go ahead then,” he urged.

Soircha looked up, her tone teasing. “Are you sure?”

“Do as he says,” Clare called from the kitchen.

Aiden watched her click a button and type a message. “What are you doing now?”

“Well, it looks weird that a kid is friending her,” she said pointedly. “I’m sending her a message from you.”

“Okay, tell her that I need to speak to her and give her my phone number.” Aiden worried a hangnail on his thumb as he watched his niece play messenger. “Do you think this will work?”

When Soircha was finished she sat back in her chair. “There’s no guarantee,” she said with a serious face. “But it’s worth a try. Ádh mór.”

Good luck indeed. “Thanks, love.”

There were no guarantees, but it was better than nothing. All these years, he told himself that he was different from Liam, obsessing over the past in an effort not to repeat it. Yet, the obvious mistakes were under his nose the whole time. If he had sat still long enough to think about it, he’d done the same thing to Lisa. He hadn’t physically left her, but his heart had drifted away without explanation. That was the only way a woman could have found a job in another country without him knowing. Aiden was in the wrong. Of course Antonia couldn’t help but be torn between him and her job and home. She needed him to tell her that he loved her. She needed to know that he’d do anything in his power to make it work. Even though it felt impossible last night, he now had the push to try. Antonia Harper wasn’t the kind of woman to be left and he could kick himself for doing just that.