Page 141 of Beneath the Quiet

Maeve stops mid-peel and purses her lips. I wait for her reply, mesmerised by the trio of freckles at the corner of her mouth.

“Heights.”

I nod slowly. “How high up are we talking here? Bungee-jumping heights or less?”

She raises the peeler and shakes it at me in warning. “Oh, you’d never even get me near one of those death traps.”

“What about sitting on a horse?” Katie joins in, craning her neck to catch my eyes. “Do you think that’s too high up?”

Maeve shrugs. “I don’t think so, but I’m not used to horses. I’ve never been on one.”

Katie drops a potato in the sink. “Never?” she breathes. “Really?”

“Really. I think I was afraid of them when I was a child, so I got used to keeping my distance.” Maeve bumps her hip playfully at Katie. “But I’d love to see you ride.”

Katie beams up at her. “I’d love that, too.”

As I move to and from our long, wooden dining table to make myself useful, I let their quiet laughter and low murmurs settle, and it almost feels like the house sighs with me. I wait for the pain to strike me again, but it doesn’t. There’s only a hint of regret mixed with hope now.

Not sorrow or despair.

I take a shaky breath, letting the realisation settle in my heart that for the first time in a decade, I’m not in pain anymore.

I move about the room, my eyes catching on all the photos hanging on the walls or framed on the large mantelpiece atop the fireplace in our living room. Everywhere I turn, Tierney’s there, either with a much younger me or with our parents. Out in the stables, with the chicken, back when we still had sheep and cows.

Each memory I have with her assaults me in a way they haven’t done in years, and they hit me in the gut, each one offering a soft goodbye to my first love.

I feel more than hear Maeve approach me from behind.

“Katie’s taking care of the carrots in the kitchen.”

“Right.”

“That’s Tierney, isn’t it?”

I nod once and keep staring at a photo of the two of us on our wedding day, sharing a glass of champagne on the beach, our arms linked, and Tierney looking up at me with stars in her eyes. I’d almost forgotten that photo.

“I put them up mostly for Katie’s sake. I didn’t want to see them, but I also knew how important they would be for her as she grew up.” I look down at Maeve when she puts a steady hand on my back. “I taught myself not to seek them out whenever I came into this room. Eventually, I stopped seeing them completely.” I blink, feeling as if a veil has been lifted from my eyes.

She presses closer into my side, resting her mouth briefly on my arm.

I take the strength she offers me.

“From what I can see, she knew how deeply you loved her. She felt it every day, in every way. And she gave the same to you, I think. I’m glad you had that.”

That surprises me. “Are you?”

She nods. “Yes. We need to feel loved, Aidan. It’s an ingrained part of our DNA, and it helps shape us as we walk through life. I’d hate it if you’d never had it.”

Her compassion almost knocks me to my feet.

“But I’m also glad because it means you’ll recognise great love when you see it again.”

I raise my hand and swipe her curls behind her ear. “You sound so sure.”

She gives me a crooked smile.

“All those romance novels had to rub off on me someday. Even my latest obsession shares a lot of wisdom.”