down the zipper at the back of her dress, he said, “For you. Dress is pretty but not to sleep in.”
“Thanks,” she said softly. “I’m going to run to the bathroom to put it on. Don’t pass out yet.”
He remained on the side of his bed, struggling to sit still, and he realized Emmy was right. The swaying was coming from him.
Shit. Or maybe not. Now the room was spinning. That wasn’t good.
He fought with his boots, letting out a small cheer for himself when he finally managed to kick them off.
Emmy was only gone a moment or two. When she returned, she was wearing his T-shirt, the soft cotton hanging to just above her knees.
He chuckled. “The shirt is as long as your dress.”
“You’re a big guy,” she pointed out.
“Naw. You’re tiny. Naught but a wee fairy,” he said with an Irish accent, “as my Pop Pop would say.”
“Here.” Emmy handed him three Advil and a cup of water. “This might help stave off some of tomorrow’s hangover.”
He took the pills and chugged the water. Placing the cup on the nightstand, he rose on unsteady legs and started to strip off his jeans.
Emmy took a step away. “I’ll just grab a blanket and—”
“No. Wait.” He reached out and grasped her wrist for just a second, making sure she stayed put. Then he shed his jeans, leaving his boxers on, as Emmy—the adorable woman—tried to look anywhere but at him.
Padraig pulled down the comforter and climbed into bed, his gaze landing on the empty side next to him. “Would you…can you sleep in here with me? Just until I pass out,” he added quickly, when it was clear she planned to say no. “I’m tired of sleeping by myself.”
“Seamus is already in there,” she said, her tone laced with humor as they both looked at his mutt, sprawled out on his back at the foot of the bed, snoring.
“You know what I mean,” he said.
Emmy considered his request for a moment, then crossed to the other side. “Okay. Just until you pass out.”
She lay down next to him—on top of the covers—and he turned to look at her, his eyes suddenly heavy.
“Thanks for taking care of me tonight,” he murmured, his voice low, the words somewhat slurred.
“That’s what friends do,” she whispered.
“Friends,” he repeated, thinking she’d used the wrong word but too drunk to figure out the right one. Of course, he didn’t have too long to ponder it before sleep claimed him.
The next morning, he’d woken up in bed alone, Emmy sacked out on his couch. While he’d felt like shit that next day, the darkness that had been swirling inside him had lifted and remained at bay.
Padraig tried once again to swallow down the tears, rubbing his eyes roughly, refusing to let them fall.
Then he recalled the remainder of the holidays that year. Eating a huge turkey dinner at Friendsgiving, and again on Thanksgiving, with Emmy by his side, both of them groaning in agony due to overeating. Emmy celebrating Christmas with his entire family for the first time, him cracking up at her overwhelmed, wide-eyed expression as she took it all in. He and Emmy hugging in the pub when the ball dropped on the New Year. Him giving her Conversation Hearts for Valentine’s Day, joking that she could use the mushy-gushy lines in her next romance novel. Her stepping behind the bar on St. Patrick’s Day to help him and his dad by working the taps until the crush of partiers thinned out.
She’d found a way to keep the darkness away. Simply by being there.
Cervical cancer.
The words rushed back in, accompanied by a wave of nausea.
“Fuck,” he said. Then louder, “Fuck!”
Lifting his head, his gaze landed on the photograph of him and Mia on their wedding day. And the dam broke.
12
Padraig lay on his couch, not bothering to watch the highlights of a hockey game he had on mute. Instead, his gaze rested solely on the picture of him and Mia on their wedding day. Today was the third anniversary of Mia’s death. It had been the first thing he’d thought of when he woke up this morning.
In truth, the date had been looming in the back of his mind for the past week or so. Part of him wondered if that knowledge had influenced his reaction to Emmy’s test results. God knew that ever since he’d essentially lost his shit and walked away from her, he’d struggled to separate the sudden deluge of guilt he