Page 151 of Tangled Up In You

She looked at him with cold eyes now. “I would never lie to you about something like this. It’s your baby.”

“Convince me,” he replied. “Tell me when you fucked him.”

“Two weeks ago,” she replied numbly.

He nodded and then turned away from her.

“And what of all the other times you two went off together?” he asked.

“It was just this one time,” she said.

“And I’m supposed to trust you on that?” he asked with a weak laugh.

“The same way I trust you.”

He looked at her sharply. “Nice try, darlin’, but it is not the same. It’s not equal. Whether you believe it or not, I did not fuck that stripper. So, don’t you dare try to say we’ve done the same thing.”

“I’m so sorry, Gavin. I felt alone, like you had given up on us, and I?—”

“And so you decided fucking my best friend would make it all right?”

“Stop saying ‘fuck.’ It wasn’t like that. It?—”

“Good job destroying anything we ever had.”

“You can’t blame me for everything.”

“No, not everything.” He felt so weak, so ready to give into the temptations of cocaine he thought he had left behind. It would not only take the edge off his pain, but also give him an excuse to go off the fucking rails while he was at it.

“I’ve only ever wanted to be with you. My whole life,” she said, and let out a sob, “mywhole lifehas been about you.”

Now he was the one who couldn’t look at her. He wanted out of this place. Away from her. “I gotta go. I can’t stay here with you,” he said, shaking his head. “I need to figure this out. Alone. And don’t go following me.”

All he needed was to find his passport. He’d go straight to the airport to avoid the temptation of ingesting a snow bomb like he had on the way to LA. By wrapping the cocaine in a small wad of toilet paper and swallowing it, the high could be prolonged and there was no worry about carrying drugs on a plane. The resulting euphoria and pretense of control was exactly what he wanted at this moment, but he’d have to resist that easy way out.

He looked at his wife, saw his own devastation mirrored on her face, and he hesitated.

“Just—take care of the baby,” he said, then turned and walked away.

93

GAVIN

Coffee seemed like a good idea after having spent the entire flight from Los Angeles to Dublin quietly drunk, so Gavin invited Shay to join him at Kaph on Drury Street. He placed an order on the first floor before heading up the stairs where he settled in at a large, desk-like table. This area didn’t have the bright and open feel of the main level, but the aroma of fresh coffee and pastries wafted up and the strains of the Pixies could be heard, making the private area comfortable.

“Thanks for coming, mate,” Gavin said when Shay joined him a few minutes later.

“Sure, Gav.” Shay sat opposite him.

“I took the liberty of ordering you their specialty.”

Shay looked down at the ceramic mug. It was filled with a milky green liquid, a decorative leaf drawn into the light foam.

“What the fuck is this?”

Gavin laughed. “They call it a Matcha green tea latte. Try it.”

Shay eyed the drink suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. “Ah, it’s not half bad.” He took another drink. “And how are you getting on, then?”

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