Page 121 of Forever, Maybe
“When… when was Ryan born?” she asked, the words sticking in her throat. She remembered Stephanie telling her once that Tadgh’s sister had been unusually secretive about who the father was.
“Tenth of January, 2000,” Tadgh said, his tone casual but his gaze sharp as he studied her reaction. “He turned sixteen this year.”
Sixteen. That meant he was conceived nine months before—April 1999. Her chest tightened once more. April 1999. She’d still been working at the council back then. Daniel had just bought another shop, adding even more hours to his already packed schedule. They’d celebrated their third wedding anniversary that first week of April.
And then…
And then.
“What can I get you?”
The cheery voice of a young man in a white shirt, pink bow tie, and a peaked cap pulled her out of her thoughts. She and Tadgh had reached the front of the ice-cream queue.
“What would you like?” she heard herself ask Tadgh, her voice distant and hollow, as though it belonged to someone else. “And for Coco, if she wants anything?”
“Eh, a ninety-nine for me and a slush puppy for Coco, please,” Tadgh replied, watching her closely.
Nell fumbled with her purse, tossing a handful of coins onto the counter—more than enough to cover the cost.
“Thanks, Tadgh,” she said, clutching her bag tightly. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.”
She turned and fled before he could respond, his confused shout—“Did I say somethin’ wrong?”—echoing behind her.
Out on the main road, her heart hammered as she waved desperately for a taxi. The first two black cabs cruised past her without slowing, but the third finally pulled over. She yanked open the door and dove into the back, slamming it shut behind her.
“Where to, love?” the driver asked.
“Forty-four St Vincent Street, please,” Nell replied, her voice sharper than she’d intended.
Daniel wasn’t answering his phone, but on a Tuesday at this time, he would almost certainly be in his office. If not, he’d be at the Hyndland shop. She needed to catch him off guard. His reaction would tell her everything, and surprise was key.
The driver signalled right, and the cab headed north. Nell’s heart pounded so violently it felt as though it might break free from her ribcage.
In the weeks since she’d first seen Ryan’s photo, she had tried to convince herself that the resemblance to a younger Danny was just her imagination. But after days of scrolling through her old photos of him, crying over every detail, the truth had become impossible to ignore.
One image in particular haunted her—the wedding photo she’d taken down just days ago. It used to hang proudly in the living room, showing Danny as a fresh-faced twenty-three-year-old. He wasn’t much older in that picture than Ryan was now. Broaden Ryan’s jaw slightly, add a hint of dark stubble, deepen the intensity of his gaze and it was the same man staring back at her.
The thought burned in her mind:Tadgh, where was your sister in April 1999?That was all she’d needed to ask him to confirm her suspicions. If Tadgh had replied,Aye, Mhari was in Amsterdam that Easter, away wi’ her pals on a wild weekend,it would have meant only one thing. Danny had cheated on her. Years before her own mistake with Jamie Curtice, Danny had broken their vows.
And it hadn’t been just any old one-night stand. Ryan had been born barely a year after their third wedding anniversary.
But she hadn’t been able to bring herself to ask Tadgh. It was too enormous, too devastating a revelation to uncover through a stranger.
Why had Danny hired Ryan, if not because he knew the boy was his son? Had he been secretly supporting him for years? Were there clandestine meetings under the guise of late nights at work? Was he siphoning money from the business into a separate account for Mhari?
The pieces fell into place with cruel clarity. She had been the naïve, stereotypical wife, blissfully ignorant of their finances while Danny handled everything. He paid the bills, made the decisions, kept her in the dark.
The cab turned onto St Vincent Street, and Nell clenched her fists in her lap. This was why she was here now, speeding toward the city centre with a single purpose: to march into Danny’s office and demand the truth.
Chapter forty-nine
ThetaxidroppedNelloff as close to the office as it could manage. Alone on the pavement, she tilted her head back, eyes fixed on the red-and-black sign above the shop. Her courage wavered, slipping away like sand through her fingers. Did it really matter that Danny might have been unfaithful all those years ago, when she’d done the same? Those unresolved arguments from their split still hung in the air, sharp-edged and unspoken.
Her fingers trembled as she pulled out her phone and dialled Stephanie. The words tumbled out, each one laced with tension. On the other end of the line, Stephanie made a sharp hissing sound—either disgust at Danny’s behaviour or shock at Nell’s confession.
“Grant never told you about this, did he?” Nell asked, picturing the time Stephanie had been curious about that photograph.
“Noooo,” Stephanie replied, dragging out the word, her voice wobbling with a poor attempt at lying.
