Page 96 of An Irish Summer

Instead, I stood here as, well, whoever this version of myself was. Open? Vulnerable, even? Mildly terrified? She was not the same Chelsea from the start of the summer.

That version might have been unrecognizable to me, but one look at Collin told me this change was as familiar to him as theback of his hand. He’d seen the Cliffs change people before, or even seen Ireland change people before, and he knew I was no different.

“Ready for a walk?” he asked, offering me his hand. “There’s a great spot to sit a bit down the way. Dodge the tourists for a minute, really give us some time to sit and enjoy if you’d like.”

“Lead the way,” I said, grabbing his hand and letting the weight of it ground me. We wandered along the edge of the cliffs without speaking, instead alternating between watching the path and staring out over the edge. With every step the landscape seemed to change, new cliffs forming and overlapping one another, the tides receding and crashing back against the shore, the entire coastline warped and ambiguous.

“Here we are, then,” Collin said, gesturing to a patch of grass just beyond the path. He stepped over the rope, which was supposed to serve as a barrier, and motioned for me to do the same. When I hesitated, he only laughed. “Relax, Chels. No one is here to yell at ya. And the cliff isn’t going to, like, crumble into the sea there. Trust me.”

Maybe this was another reason he waited. Had he told me to trust him two months ago, I would have laughed in his face.

I followed him over the rope and settled beside him on the damp grass, letting my head drop to his shoulder as I returned my gaze to the sea.

“Is this the part where we talk about you leaving?” he asked eventually, barely loud enough to be heard over the wind. We both knew this conversation was coming, but that wasn’t going to make it any easier .

“We can’t put it off a little longer?” I knew this was the time to tell him about the job, but the words were already lodged in my throat.

“We’re out of time, Chels.” We both knew he wasn’t just talking about having this conversation. Except only I knew we had even less time than we’d thought.

“This summer was more than I ever could have imagined,” I said eventually. “I mean, I thought I was going to hate it here. All I wanted to do was get home to Boston. And now I’m sitting here at the Cliffs with you, trying not to cry at the thought of doing exactly what I’d planned all along.” I tried to laugh, but it got lost in the wind.

“And you don’t think that means anything?” he asked.

“Of course it does,” I said, wary of his tone. “Are you saying I think it doesn’t?” I angled my body to face him. “Collin, this summer, especially the past few weeks, has meant more to me than you know.”

“Not enough to change your plans, though, is it?”

“Coll,” I started, hating that we were going there. “I can’t stay here. You know that.”

“You keep saying that, but I’m still not quite sure why. You could easily get a visa. Lori would sponsor you.”

“It isn’t about the visa.”

“What’s it about, then? I need it to make sense to me. Is it just about familiarity? Family and friends? You have both right here, do you not?”

“It’s more than that,” I said, trying to keep my footing. “It’s stability. It’s making a living.” I knew I was dancing around the truth, but I wasn’t ready to stick the landing.

“And what’s wrong with the living we make here?” He angled his body this time, away from me and back to the edge of the cliff and the Atlantic beyond. “If it’s not good enough for you, Chelsea, I wish you’d just say that. It’s what you’ve been thinking since you got here, isn’t it? That you’re above hostel life.”

“I’m not above it, Collin, and you know that.”

“Of courseIknow it,” he said, “but do you?”

“I thought we’d gotten past this?” Frustration crept in where sadness used to be, and I didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed. This wasn’t what this afternoon was supposed to be about, and I hated the dark turn it was taking. “It just isn’t for me. That’s it. I’m not cut out for this kind of life.”

“But you’ve done it the whole summer,” he said, relaxing his tone. “That’s where I’m lost. You keep saying how much you aren’t like us, how much you can’t just do something new every day, how you can’t manage hostel life. But you’ve been doing exactly that every day since you got here. And you’ve been doing a brilliant job.” Hearing the kindness return to his voice made my chest hurt. “You’ve changed so much since the start of this summer, Chelsea, and I know you can see that too.”

“I have, I know I have. And in some ways, it’s been for the best. But in other ways, I’ve just... I’ve gotten away from myself. And I have to bridge the gap. The ways I’ve changed since I’ve been here are what have given me the confidence to actively pursue the life I really want in the first place, but now I need to see it through.”

“And you’re sure going back is the life you really want, then?”

“I’m sure,” I whispered, letting my words get carried away on the wind, wishing I could follow them. He ran both hands roughly through his hair, dropping his head briefly between his knees.

“Then I’m happy for you, Chels. Really, I am.”

“Then why don’t you sound happy for me?”

“Because it turned out I was the one who was a bit thick, after all. Letting myself get my hopes up that you might stay.”

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