Page 58 of Iron Cross

It was that invisible thread that tied me to the man I had run from. I might have run, but I would never sever the line that fastened us together.

“Iamsorry,” I said, because I meant it. “I’m so, so sorry.”

I lifted my hands again to wipe the insipid tears away, but they were just replaced with even more.

“You’ve done so much for me, and I’ve just… I can’t even… I thought I could, but I can’t.” I had no idea what I was trying to say. I could barely think past the anguish that wrecked my heart.

I looked at him, the sullenness of his face, and I couldn’t help but blubber more. He looked so hurt by my actions.

“God!” I wailed, then covered my mouth, remembering that my son was asleep.

My son. His son. Eoghan’s son.

Fuck!

If I got involved with this man… the man who had been so kind… and Eoghan found us, then he’d be dead. He’d be in that basement, strung up and tortured for years until he didn’t know his own name.

Aaron didn’t deserve that! No one did.

I wasn’t worth that risk.

“I hate him so much. I hate him!”

Aaron stood stalk straight, his eyes hardening.

“He cursed me, you know.” I explained, shrugging my shoulders.

I remembered Aoibheann and the wind. The curses and witches. The talks of fairies and folklore, and I laughed at how stupid it all was. Of all the hours Eoghan had spoken about fate and tragedy. Of how we were destined to be together. How those vows had pierced my heart until it made a home there, nesting in my soul.

“He cursed me,” I said again. “I hate him so much sometimes, but…” I let out a hushed scream, clenching it between my teeth, as the feelings boiled over. “I can’t be with you. I can’t be with anyone. Ever.”

I beat my heart, as if I could dislodge the hold that Eoghan had on me. But I couldn’t.

He was there. He wouldn’t budge, no matter how far I ran, or how long we were apart. He owned me. Just as he had said he would. As many times he had screamed “You’re mine!” it became true.

“I’m married.” I finally confessed it all. “And faithfully so.”

The look in his eyes was confused, but pleased. A reaction that perplexed me.

“How do you mean?” he asked, cautiously, as he stepped towards me.

Even now, he was still trying to comfort me.

This man was too good for me.

“I can never be with a man who is not my husband.” I could barely make eye contact with him. I didn’t want to see the complicated things that might slip through his eyes as he heard me. Then I laughed, as a ridiculous thought popped into my head. “He put some fucking Irish curse on me.”

“What? You haven’t been with another man? Not… not since…”

I started pacing the gap between the kitchen to the bedroom, back and forth, back and forth.

“He used to believe in witches and weird shit like that,” I said, then laughed, shutting myself up again. I looked at Aaron, who was staring at me like I was insane. And maybe I was. “But whatever he did, I can’t cheat on him. I can’t be unfaithful to him.”

There was a man in my apartment. A handsome one that seemed to care about me. A good man who seemed like he cared about me. A man I’d be lucky to attract given the circumstances.

But all I could talk about was Eoghan.

I stormed back to the junk drawer and opened it. Aaron picked up the forgotten, discarded blade on the ground, and I resisted the urge to swipe it from him. To grab it and hold it to my chest like a magical trinket that was made only for me.

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