“I deserve that.” His sad eyes drop to my chest. “You’re not wearing your locket.”
“It hurts too much to look at it, and I meant what I said about a clean start.”
He takes a step closer, peering deeply into my eyes. “Someday, I’m going to correct my mistakes and win back your heart. I won’t stop until I prove I’m worthy of your love again.”
I can’t respond to that, and I need to get out of here before I throw caution to the wind and take everything back. Reeve has always been a true romantic. He always has the right words at the right time. But loving words and promises aren’t enough to extinguish the deep-seated pain of his betrayal. Still, I came here to leave things on an amicable footing, and I’m determined to do that. I cup his face one last time, and he leans into my touch. “Be happy, Reeve. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
With one last look, I walk off, grateful that he doesn’t chase after me.
The next part of the story takes place in Ireland. There is a glossary at the back of this book you can refer to, which includes some explanations of local words/phrases and Irish/Gaelic pronunciations. We phrase some things differently, so if some of the Irish characters’ dialogue seems a little odd, that is why!
27
The flight lands in Dublin at seven a.m. local time, and as I disembark, I promise myself I’m leaving my tears and my melancholy behind on the plane. The nighttime flight helped, but I found it hard to sleep with the eight-hour time difference and the fact my broken heart took a severe beating earlier today. Having Audrey say goodbye at LAX was a disastrous move too. Leaving my bestie behind only added to my distress.
I spent the first two hours of the ten-and-a-half-hour flight trying to fight tears and the next two hours trying to disguise my sobs from the other passengers. Being in first class helped, and the Aer Lingus flight attendant was super sweet and attentive when she noticed I was upset. Still, it’s embarrassing, and I need to get a grip. I’m just lucky no one on the plane seemed to realize who I was.
I’m yawning as I move through passport control, but I perk up as I get my first proper look at Ireland through the large windows as I walk with other passengers toward the arrival hall. Gray skies and rain peer back at me, and it’s kind of reassuring. If everything about Ireland is as expected, I think I’ll really enjoy my time here.
Out in the arrivals area, I scan the space, my eyes inspecting all the cards held aloft until I spot one that says GRACE MILLS. As an extra precaution, I’ve decided to use my middle name here. Just in case any locals or visiting tourists make the connection. Pushing my luggage cart toward the rotund man in the ill-fitting black suit, I battle a sudden rush of butterflies.
I can’t believe I’m here.
That I’ve really done this.
Excitement combines with nerves as I approach my driver. His name tag says Micheál, which I’m assuming is a Gaelic name.
“Hi. I’m Grace Mills.”
“Howya, love. Aren’t you a right looker?” Grabbing my hand, he vigorously shakes it.
“Ugh…” I’m at a loss for words.
“I’m Micheál,” he says, pronouncing it like Mee-haul. “I’ll be driving ya to your swanky apartment building in town.” He winks, but it’s not leery in the slightest. He gives off jovial grandpa vibes that have me instantly relaxing. “Good flight?” he continues, taking control of my luggage cart without asking.
“Yes,” I lie, because I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear how I spent half of it crying over my cheating ex and nursing my broken heart.
“First time in Dublin?” he inquires, waving to another couple of drivers as we walk off, heading into a plexiglass tunnel.
“First time in Ireland,” I confirm. Audrey and I had planned to visit when we were in Europe last summer, but we never made it.
“Well, you’re in for a treat. What part of America are you from?”
He talks fast, and his accent is so thick that I have to wait a few seconds for my brain to process the words and decipher his question. “Los Angeles.”
He whistles under his breath, nodding at me. “I took one look at ya, and I just knew you were a Hollywood princess.”
My eyes startle wide, and panic races to the surface at the thought my cover might have already been blown. Maybe I’ll just say California in the future, because I don’t want to lie and have to keep track of what I’m telling people. Remembering to say my name is Grace will be challenging enough.