Page 100 of Bad Bishop

“Wiseass?” He tilted his head.

I typed on my phone, turning the screen so he could see it. Gealach.

“First of all, I’m not your friend. Second,Gealachmeans moon in Irish.” A joyless smirk found his lips.

“Moon?”

“Mm. The first time I saw you, you were drowning in the night. I was in pain and in a terrible fucking mood. And you glowed. You shone so bright, I couldn’t look away.” His chest expanded with an inhale, and he frowned to himself. “You were my first dream, I think.”

My heart shattered, scattering into tiny shards in the pit of my stomach.

Gealachdidn’t mean wiseass?

All this time, he was calling me his moon? Even at the fountain, when I was nothing more than his enemies’ sister?

“You were wide awake.”

“Technically, yes. But when I stopped and tipped my head up, I asked the moon for a reason to live. We have a history of bargaining, me and him.” He paused. “I think it gave me you.”

The words settled beneath my skin. I felt the same. Existing was no longer enough. I wanted to live. And I wanted to live by his side.

“Why did you tell me it means wiseass?”

“Because you’re a wiseass.”

“That’s rude.”

“You still like me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The way you look at me.” He shook his head. “Like I hung thegealachin the sky to light the way for you.”

It was true. Because in a way, he did. He gave me freedom. Agency. Normalcy. And his last name.

“I also have a confession to make.”

I swallowed, looking down at the sticky wooden table between us.

“I kept it.”

“Kept what?”

“Your eye. I came back for it. I don’t know why.”

His mouth broke into a devious smirk. I forgot how much he liked those dark parts of me.

“Where?”

“A jar. Full of isopropyl. Imma helped me.” I pressed my lips together. “I buried it in our garden. You can have it back, if you want.”

“It’s yours.” He kicked back, eyeing me humorously. “You can have all my organs.”

Not all of them. I can’t have your heart,I thought.

“Why did you call your pub Fermanagh’s?” I signed. “Your last name is Callaghan.”

“Mam was from Fermanagh County.” He took a pull of his drink. “I spent my entire childhood frightened I’d forget her existence. Fermanagh’s was my first business. I bought the nicest building on the block, an old church, and converted it.”