Lucky This Isn't Real

I had never been in love with her, but I would always hold a particular affection for her, like a little sister.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit surprised to see you,” I said.

“I actually wasn’t supposed to come out tonight, but I did anyway. I’m glad I did. I just figured that if I don’t drink too much, I’ll be fine for my exams tomorrow.”

“Aren’t you in grad school? I heard you went back.”

“Aye, Queens.”

“Congratulations!”

“Thanks. It’s kicking my ass, but it’ll be worth it. The professors are surprisingly cool.”

We hung out with Ciara most of the night, her following us from pub to pub, not that we minded too much. Despite our history, she was pretty much one of the boys. Though hers was not the first bit of female attention I would get.

Everywhere we went, I’d get a welcome from those I knew, and there was always some woman who expressed her interest, some more subtly than others. None of them were as hot as Maggie, though.

I just wanted to be with her but knew I had to focus on my career and on healing my emotional wounds. I didn’t want to do anything with any other girls, though, no matter how keen they seemed.

“You seem a bit distracted,” Ciara said at one point in the night after both of us had slogged down one too many beers.

“I think I’m in love,” I confessed.

She gasped and then told me to tell her everything, which I did. Even the part about how Maggie and I had met. She thought it was a wild and crazy story and encouraged me to pursue this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that not many people were lucky enough to have.

I told her I would. All in due time. If Maggie would let me.

Then I realized I would just have to convince her.

I was determined to win Maggie back and get what was mine. As soon as I dealt with my family issues.

Chapter Sixteen – Maggie

One Month Later

I could hear the drums from blocks away, the beaters really giving it their all. I tried to pay attention as the floats and marchers in the St. Patrick’s Day parade went by, but it was difficult to see, being that I was shorter than anyone else here.

“I’d put you on my shoulders, but I’m not sure that would work,” Darcy said.

“No, probably not,” I agreed. “You would probably collapse under my weight anyway.”

The whole thing really only reminded me of how much I hated St. Patrick’s Day because of how crowded it got. Not to mention how drunk people got, toasting a saint most of them didn’t pray to on a holiday that had largely become an excuse for public drunkenness.

I wasn’t particularly religious, but it still rubbed me the wrong way. Particularly considering what St. Patrick was famous for, the “snakes” in question actually being indigenous pagans, who were given the choice of converting, leaving, or dying by the forces of militant Catholicism.

I knew I should just quit my internal bitching and enjoy a fun holiday, but I was really feeling like a spoilsport lately.

‘What ya thinking about?” Darcy asked.

“Nothing,” I lied.

“Have you called him yet?”

“Called who?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes.

“So that’s how you want to play this game. Gavin? The man you were fake engaged to.”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, if you haven’t caved and called him, it means you’ll get over him quicker.”

I wondered how slow “quick” was because, as she’d pointed out, it had been a month, and I still wasn’t over him.

It also didn’t help that I was writing a lot more when I was with him, even over the week between our first meeting and the engagement party.

After we broke up, the creative spark, which seemed to be linked directly to my happiness, was gone again, despite the fact that I was still going to see Dr. Benoit.

“It’ll pass. You’ll see,” Darcy said, sounding sure of herself.

I wanted to confess that I had actually tried calling him, but his phone was disconnected. It was probably too late to try and call him a month later. Particularly with how cold I had been.

He probably figured I was over him, which was a fair enough conclusion under the circumstances.

I still couldn’t believe what he had done to Kenny. While it wasn’t nice, it felt pretty good to see my ex get what he deserved.

“Hey, you two!”

We both turned and saw Amy from our office, clad in bright green bell bottoms and a matching halter top, coming towards us.

“Hey, Amy,” Darcy greeted her.

“Hey,” was all I could muster up.

Suffice it to say that she wasn’t one of my favorite people. She liked to paint her nails at work, and I hated the smell of the nail polish.

“Want to go for a walk? Get out of this crowd?” Darcy asked, meaning the question for me.