Page 83 of The Past

Blackburn Farms– Present Day

Iblink outof the spiral of memories I’d fallen into as I told Sylvie all about my love story.I had almost forgotten the tragedy woven into the layers—losing Rory, my legacy—because my life has been so wonderfully blessed over the decades since I came to Kentucky to be with Tommy.

My thumb rubs over the silver Celtic knot ring that I still wear on my left ring finger, although Tommy indeed bought me a large diamond to go with it and added more diamonds to turn it into a uniquely beautiful piece of jewelry.

Sylvie sits nestled between Tommy and me on the well-loved couch, her head resting on my shoulder.She’s quiet, deep in thought, I suppose.

I crane my neck to look down at her, studying her profile, her brows knitted in concentration, her lips pressed into a thoughtful line.This granddaughter of mine, this beautiful, curious girl, just traveled through time with me, reliving the story of how Tommy and I came to be.I’ve never told it in such detail before.Never allowed myself to remember so vividly.

Sylvie lets out a long breath and finally looks up, her expression filled with something between wonder and disbelief.

“I still can’t believe all of that happened just so you two could be together,” she murmurs, shaking her head.“I mean… you had to go throughso much.”

Tommy chuckles, the deep sound of it reverberating through the room as he stretches his legs out in front of him.His arm rests along the back of the couch, fingers idly toying with a loose curl of my hair.“Your grandmother didn’t make it easy on me,” he teases, his voice warm, filled with that familiar affection that still makes my heart skip after all these years.

I turn my head to glare at him, though my amusement betrays me.“Oh,please,” I scoff.“I was the one getting thrown out of my house and bartered off like cattle.Yejust had to pine after me in a big fancy manor.”

Sylvie leans forward and flips to the next page in the album on my lap, her fingers brushing over our wedding photo.It was taken just outside the small chapel where Tommy and I got married with both his parents in attendance.The years have faded the image, but the emotion captured in that portrait of young love is as vibrant as ever.Me in my simple ivory dress, my hair pinned back with tiny pearls.Tommy, standing tall and proud, his sharp suit made somewhat casual by his well-worn boots.

Sylvie’s lips twitch as she notices his footwear.“Youwore bootsto your wedding?”

Tommy smirks, unfazed by her teasing.“What did you expect?When I met your grandmother, I was covered in dirt from head to toe.Would’ve been dishonest to pretend I was anything else.”

Sylvie laughs, shaking her head before sobering slightly, her expression turning more serious.She hesitates, then glances up at me.

“Did you ever go back?”

The question hits like a stone thrown into still water, rippling through me in waves I hadn’t expected.

I exhale slowly, staring down at the photograph, my fingers tracing the edges as if the answer might be hidden there.“No, love,” I say finally.“Not to Glenhaven.But I’ve gone back to Ireland many times because it’s in my blood.”

Sylvie’s brows furrow, hesitation creeping into her voice.“Never to your home?”

I shake my head.“As part of the deal I made with my father, he insisted that I never step foot on Glenhaven again.He didn’t want me returning, stirring things up, reminding him of the choice I made.I was so desperate to be free, to be with Tommy, that I agreed.”

Sylvie’s lips part slightly, her shock evident.“But… you never evenvisited?”

“No,” I admit, noting that I feel no regret but some sadness still lingers.“Not once.”

She looks troubled by the thought, her fingers gripping the edge of the album.“So… what happened to it?Who owns it now?”

I glance at Tommy, who drops his hand to my shoulder for a reassuring squeeze.As always, his touch grounds me.I turn back to our granddaughter, brushing a hand down her arm as if to soften the truth.“When my father died a few years ago, Glenhaven passed to Paddy.”

Sylvie scrunches her nose.“But now that your father is gone, you can go back to visit, right?”

An empty smile tugs at the corner of my lips.“Paddy wouldn’t welcome me back.”

“Why not?”Sylvie exclaims, sitting up straight.

“Well,” I drawl, trying how to gentle the truth of my complicated family.“Let’s just say that he was heavily influenced by my father.He turned out just like him and ended up hating me for abandoning Glenhaven.”

“He was a piss-poor brother,” Tommy mutters, and I can’t argue with that.

I let out a slow breath, my chest tightening.“I really wish I could say he was different from my father, but in the end, he followed in his footsteps.He never forgave me for leaving, for defying our family.His resentment hardened over time, and he doesn’t speak to me.”

Sylvie shakes her head, clearly upset by the thought.“That’s not fair.”

“No, love, it’s not.But it is what it is.And I don’t have any regrets.”

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