I have always been skeptical of love triangles in books and movies, struggling to understand how someone could love another man when they’re already so much in love with someone. However, I know now I was na?ve to believe it doesn’t exist. Now I’ve had cause to seriously think about the subject, it makes perfect sense. I love my mom and my dad. I love both my besties. When I have children, I imagine I will love them all with the fullness of my heart. So, it stands to reason I can love two men at the same time. I just never looked at it like that before.
I want to hate Reeve for the things he’s done that have hurt me, and for splitting us up, but how can I hate him when his actions have led me to this point?
Coming to Ireland has undoubtedly changed me. I feel like I have found myself and found my way. I have discovered aspects of my personality that have never had the time to flourish, and Dillon has helped to coax those parts of me to life. I am stronger and more confident to go after what I want—to demand things that will fulfill me and to not let anyone stand in my way or tell me my desires don’t matter.
Dillon has awakened a side of me I never knew existed, and I wish I could continue this journey of self-discovery with him because he brings me immense joy. He pisses me the hell off at times too, but what we have is so very real. This is a no-holds-barred love, and while we haven’t said those three words, we both feel it and live it every day.
Our love is an intense fiery passion, a soul-deep connection that kicked into place the instant we laid eyes on one another, and while similar in some regards, it is also vastly different to what I had with Reeve.
Dillon loves me with a fierceness that scares us both. His need is all-consuming, and all it takes is one look and we fall into one another, lost to everyone and everything that isn’t us. Ours is a love that could raze kingdoms and burn worlds, and that realization is as terrifying as it is exhilarating.
Neither of us has said the words out loud, but as our inevitable separation looms in the near future, I’m struggling to not break down in tears. How will I ever leave this man? Yet, in ten days, it will happen. The very thought of it feels like a stake has been driven through my heart.
“Earth to Hollywood.” Dillon grazes his teeth along my neck, pulling me out of my depressive thoughts. “You look like you’ve been in your own little world.”
Hearty laughter and boisterous conversation surround us in the busy pub as the bartender calls out last orders. The guitarist entertaining us with her gorgeous voice and dry wit is packing up her stuff, but no one else is making any move to leave. Our friends are still huddled around the table, joking and drinking.
Resting my head on his shoulder, I snuggle into his side. “I was just thinking back over the past few weeks. We crammed a lot in.”
His arm slides around my shoulders, holding me close. “I wanted to show you as much as possible.” Before you leave me is missing from the end of his sentence.
A heavy silence rests between us like usual lately. We are both too chickenshit to say it, but we feel it crushing our souls.
“Do you know this pub was the scene of a famous murder almost twenty-five years ago?” Dillon says, in between mouthfuls of beer.
“Now he tells me,” I deadpan. A shiver tiptoes down my spine. “If you tell me some ghost haunts this place, I’m out of here.”
“Two ghosts,” Jamie pipes up, clearly eavesdropping on our conversation. “If you count the Black Widow. She died a few years ago in prison.”
“She actually died in a hospice,” Dillon clarifies. “They had moved her there when her cancer progressed and they knew she was close to death.”
“They should have let her rot in jail,” Ash says, bumping my hip. “Drink up, it’s almost closing time.”
“What happened?” I lift my vodka cranberry to my lips.
“The owner’s wife murdered him here back in ninety-six, but she didn’t get away with it. She was sent down for life,” Dillon explains.
“It put Jack White’s Inn on the map. It’s infamous,” Ro says, waving his hand around the crowded pub. “Even now.”
“Welp, that was a lovely way to end the night.” Another shiver rocks through me.
Dillon smirks. “Just keeping it real, Hollywood.”
“And who says the night is ending?” Jamie drains the last of his beer, slamming his hands down on the wooden table, rattling glasses and spilling drinks.
“Arsehole,” Ash mutters, rolling her eyes. Our gazes connect, and we smile. She says that, but I know the truth. She is head-over-heels, ass-over-tits, in love with him, and he is the same with her. I know she harbors guilt over what went down with Cillian, but they would not be here, looking all loved up if she’d told him what happened. It’s best left in the past. No good would come from spilling that truth. Jamie grabs her face, smushing his lips to hers, and Dillon’s mouth pulls into a grimace.