Page 10 of Intimately Faithful

“I can’t ask that of you, Danny.”

The moment the bottle was popped into the young one’s mouth she started to suck and mewl at the same time, making Danny grin. “She was hungry.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while since her last feed.”

He felt his stomach twist into a hard ball.

His protective instincts rose to the surface and demanded he do something about it, or he wouldn’t be able to think about another thing.

Without saying a word, he turned on his heel and left her there.

Minutes later he returned holding a plate in one hand, heavy with hastily made grilled cheese, with a side of pickled onions and in his other hand he held a can of pop.

Thankfully she wasn’t asleep yet. Still on the edge of the bed cradling a now sleeping baby. Her cheeks rosy from milk exertion no doubt.

He smiled to himself, feeling the pinch of seeing Aoife with a baby.

She looked like a natural and the way she gazed down at Misha, it was obvious she was a doting ma.

“Here, I brought you something to eat.” He’d unconsciously made her favorite.

“Oh,” she blinked, as if it hadn’t occurred to her he’d feed her.

“Aoife, we really need to talk, you know that.”

She sighed. “I know. I don’t know where to begin to be truthful. Can I just … can I sleep, Danny? I’m so tired.”

He frowned and again those predispositions fought inside his head.

Hold her. Cradle her. Rock her to sleep. Make sure nothing will put that weary look on her face again.

He did nothing, because he couldn’t.

It was all nonsense anyway. Just echoes of a past best forgotten.

He would help her though.

What else could he do?

Danny Murphy was hard wired to always take care of Aoife Flanagan.

He was once convinced he was only born to keep her out of trouble.

Only now their dynamics were different.

No longer was he her everything.

The man who would hold her while she fought tears and shared dreams of when they were grown.

He was just a man she’d left behind.

“Make sure you eat. There’s more bottle formula for the little one in the kitchen and we can make mashed up food too. You can help yourself to anything. And there’s clean towels in the bathroom.” He rasped the words out through the bolder of feelings in his throat.

At the door he turned, found her eyes on him.

He swallowed and tried to see her as any other parishioner in need.

He’d give her the help and then watch her leave again.

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