Page 16 of Stronger Than Love

It sounded stupid and petty since I’d told him to go away yesterday, but I felt vulnerable and sad that Liam had snubbed me. Yesterday in the garden, I’d been very aware of his body beside mine, the occasional times his arm touched me. Now, I felt cold and alone.

What company did he own, and what were they doing with the old lighthouse? It was where we played during the wet summer days and where we first made love. Why did he want it?

A huge house stood where once there was a single tree and a small mound Liam and I used to watch stars from on a clear night. It was new because it wasn’t there ten years ago, but the structure and design made it look like it had stood there for the past hundred years.

Wild roses covered the front walls in fragrant blooms and apple trees were interspaced on the front lawn, their flowers bright in the sunshine. The garden was filled with flowers that made it a home instead of a house, various pots filled with herbs along the side of the massive garage.

Mr. Wilson’s shop still contained the jars of sweets along the back wall. I used to spend hours deciding what I wanted from those jars, then selecting the same one I always did. There were new assistants in the store, but Mr. Wilson wandered out from his office to greet me. This was the central hub of the village, a place where all the gossip was spread.

“Awk, there she is, little Oonagh all grown up.” He grabbed me in a bear hug.

“Hello, Mr. Wilson. How are you?”

“The very best. What can I do for you on a fine day like this?”

“Mum is baking her cupcakes and ran out of icing sugar.”

He smiled fondly, wandering off among his shelves. “She always did make the very best fairy cakes.”

He refused to call them by their modern name, regressing to what my grandmother always called them. She used to make them with white icing and small silver balls that would break your teeth.

The assistant at the cash desk was one of the sisters who used to live in the cottage beside Liam. “Hey, Niamh.” I put the icing sugar Mr. Wilson handed me on the desk.

She glared at me, then gave me a false smile when Mr. Wilson scowled at her. “Back for another summer?” she asked in a tone that suggested I didn’t belong here.

“Mum likes to follow tradition since my great grandfather built that house for his family to live in.” It always grated on me that the locals viewed us as ‘blow-ins’ because we didn’t spend fifty-two weeks a year here. “Isn’t that new coffee shop where your house used to be?”

Her shoulders tensed. “There was a fire a few years ago that destroyed most of that row. The only thing they could do was tear them down and rebuild.”

“Sorry to hear that,” I muttered. Every one of those four words were a lie. I hated Niamh and her sisters, they had always been malicious, nasty witches who were only missing hooked noses and broomsticks.

She shrugged, her lips pursing. “Seen Liam since you’ve been back?”

There was something about her tone that put me on edge. That smile that medical professionals developed curved my lips. It was devoid of emotion but designed to make people feel at ease. “He was at the barbeque yesterday. He always arrived at our house as soon as we arrived.”

“Those Doherty boys always did have airs and graces about themselves.” Her tone contained a toxic acidity that was corrosive.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to better yourself. They were smart guys who just needed someone to give them a chance.”

Her face contorted in an ugly mask. “We were practically family and they never gave us a chance.”

A shiver of trepidation trickled up my spine. “Niamh, I’ve been friends with Liam and his brothers most of my life. I have no intention of letting you bad mouth them to meagain. You did it once when I was young and stupid, I won’t let it happen again.”

My purchases were shoved in my floral pattern shopping bag with enough force to dent the cardboard box, and I handed her cash.

Being back here was shedding light on all the ghosts that had haunted me. I turned to leave and walked face-first into a rock-hard chest. Hands gripped my upper arms to stop me from falling on my ass.

“We’ll grab a quarter of rhubarb rock and a quarter of chocolate limes,” Liam said, his hands holding me like bands of steel.

Niamh scurried off and I tried to extract myself, but he held me in place, only releasing me to fling a lazy arm around my shoulders and lead me out of the store when he finished his transaction.

“Seriously?” I hissed when we were outside. “You storm off yesterday, ignore me today, and now you think you can manhandle me?”

Anger twisted and pulsed in my core like a rattlesnake ready to attack.

“Yeah.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “I was pissed, and in fairness, you were being a bitch yesterday.”

My mouth dropped open at his insult, my arms slowly coming to fold in front of me. He was right, I had been a bitch, but that didn’t mean I ever intended to admit it.

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