Lucky This Isn't Real

“Is he doing okay?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I haven’t heard from him. It was why I came here— to try to find him or at least to find out what happened.”

Her lips thinned, and she leaned back in her chair.

“I see. Sadly, I can’t help you out with that information because I don’t know it.”

I realized then that Gavin had been serious with what he had tried to tell me about going into therapy. It was more than possible that he went back to Ireland to help deal with his dad as well as deal with whatever had happened in his past.

Sadness struck me hard. I did my best not to cry right there in the office, even though I missed him so much, and I didn’t think I would ever see him again. I’d blown it.

“I think maybe he went home,” I told her. “To Ireland, I mean.”

She looked as crestfallen as I felt.

Chapter Seventeen – Maggie

I doubled my appointments with Dr. Benoit. I couldn’t really afford it, but she did some of the sessions pro bono after seeing what a state I was in.

I didn’t think I was suicidal, but she seemed to wonder and didn’t want to take the chance. I did know that I was feeling really depressed and not writing at all.

I couldn’t believe I had screwed up something so good with someone who seemed to be meant for me. It was a funk that even Darcy’s good humor couldn’t shake me out of.

Now, I was sitting in the lobby waiting to be called back to talk to Dr. Benoit so that I could continue to pour my heart out to her.

I knew deep down, though, that there was only one thing that could bring me back to the happiness I felt before, and that was—

“Hello, beautiful, sweet girl,” a very familiar-sounding voice said.

Shivers danced up my spine, and I blinked several times.

“Gavin?” I asked, wondering if my eyes had conjured up a mirage.

Unless they had, then it was quite clear that Gavin was right here in front of me, having walked through the reception doors just now. My heart pounded so hard I thought it would jump out of my throat.

“In the flesh,” he said, sitting down beside me.

“Wow. I didn’t expect to see you ever again. Are you here to get your work visas extended again?” I asked, pressing a hand against my chest and swallowing hard.

“No, I’m actually here to see a therapist.” He looked sheepish. “As a beautiful and wise woman suggested that I should do.”

“Ms. Applegate?” I asked, still discombobulated by his sudden reappearance.

“No, darlin’,” he said softly. “You. You were right about needing to face my past. I wasn’t connecting with my emotions, and it made it difficult to pretend to be anyone else, except by rote. I decided to go to Ireland with Eoin. The role I auditioned for wasn’t right at the time. I had to work on myself before I could approach it.

“For the past month, I’ve been with my family working on past hurts and going for counseling. My therapist sent all of my information to Dr. Benoit. Wish I’d called Kris and let her know.”

A spike of jealousy stabbed my gut. “Kris?”

“Ms. Applegate.”

“Oh, right, of course. She said you start read-throughs for the series soon.”

“We do. And I won’t do anything to mess it up.”

He pressed his lips against my cheek, and I inhaled the spicy scent I’d grown to love and missed desperately. Part of me wanted to push him away and tell him to get lost, but the bigger part of me ached for him.

“I’ve been thinking about you, Maggie. I’m sorry for what happened that day at your apartment. I was in the wrong. I’ll do whatever it’ll take to have you as my girlfriend. My real girlfriend, that is, instead of a fake fiancée.”

The world stopped spinning, and I nodded vigorously. It was all I could do not to cry.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend. Your real girlfriend. Your forever girlfriend. Being in a real relationship with you would make me the happiest girl in the world.”

His eyes softened, and he reached out for my hand.

“How have you been doing?”

“Not great, honestly. And I had a pretty crappy St. Paddy’s Day.”

“That’s just because you didn’t have your sexy Irish fiancé to show you how it’s done.”

I managed a small smile.

“Yeah, that must be it. There’s so much I want to ask you. How’s your dad?”

He blew out a long, slow breath.

“Alive, which is a plus. Like my mum used to say, ‘any day above ground is a good day.’”

“Interesting way of putting it.”

“As a family, we have a long road ahead of us. The first step is getting our dad sober. Something we’re working on as a team.” Sadness filled his face, but I saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “What do you say we play a bit of hooky from our appointments today?”