Page 4 of Intimately Faithful

Only, he wasn’t hers now and never would be again.

Ice formed in her belly because that was the one thought she never allowed room in her brain to roam.

She locked it out.

Refused to believe there was a day in her future that wouldn’t have Danny in it somehow.

She lived in denial, the same way she lived in misery. Living only half a life because she’d tossed hers away with love and so much regret it was a bitter pill to swallow.

Aoife, as a little girl had once thought nearing thirty-years old would be the most devastating thing to her little mind. Being twenty-eight now and growing closer to that monumental number meant nothing in comparison to losing everything she’d ever held dear and watching that same someone with wariness in his eyes.

For a few seconds when she’d walked down the aisle to his church, he’d seemed so open, so welcoming and peaceful.

A sight she’d never seen on his face before.

He was grown and settled with his life.

That was before she undid the scarf and showed him who stood in front of him and all manner of peace dropped from his face.

It was like watching shutters come down over a pair of piercing blue eyes.

He would help her, of course. But to what cost to himself?

It was why she’d held off all these months.

The moment she showed herself to Danny Murphy, it was game over for her protected heart. And she had no right to cause him even a seconds worth of pain again.

She’d done enough to this man for him to hate her and to turn her away.

He wouldn’t. And the fact she knew this made her a little sicker in the heart.

She’d been left with little choice as it turns out.

Every day knowing she was so close to Danny meant she fought every single day with her inner self urging her to go and see him, if only once to prove to herself he was happy now and better off without the likes of her.

Every day she’d resisted the compulsion—just.

Until she was forced to turn to the one man who had every right to loathe the day she was born.

Exactly nine months to the day after his birthday.

They’d loved having that in common.

It’s what makes us soulmates, Aoife.He’d tell her when they laid under the stars and planned their life together.You were born for me to love.

A life that never came to pass because—well, that doesn’t matter here nor there now, she supposed. Her ma would saywhat is done is dusted me girl, you gotta get over it.

But she couldn’t. Never. No matter where life lead her, she could never get over what should have been.

To give her tongue time to unstick from the roof of her mouth, she set about unbuttoning the coat completely. It wasn’t even hers; it was one hung on the back of the door and the first one she’d seen to grab. Nor were the too big shoes. She’d dressed in a right hurry. It wasn’t as though she was used to the best things.

Aoife liked functional, wasn’t much for designer wear.

It was a waste of money if you ask her.

But standing in front of the greatest love and regret of her life, watching how his shrewd eyes—once filled with devotion, now devoid of any emotion—roamed over her in a slow perusal, she felt like little orphan Annie and her vanity kicked in when she tried to tame her wild mess of red curls.

It was pointless. It had always been that way. Unless she took hours with it and a straightening iron there was no taming her mane, she realized that fact long ago in school when she was teased mercilessly for her ginger hair.

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