Page 88 of Unrequited

So real.

“Let’s say we had children,” I continue, turning my gaze to the window. “Do you like kids, Seamus?”

“I’d likemine.”

There’s honesty there again, the kind you don’t argue with.

“You planning something, love?”

“I am.” But I don’t tell him what.

“If I had children, it’d be a union of two families, wouldn’t it?” I tease, rolling my eyes toward him. “It’s hypothetical. Humor me. What would you name a boy?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Never really thought about it. But I know a girl’s name.”

“Yeah?”

“Caitlin. After mam. Once you meet her, you’ll understand.”

“That’s beautiful.” I breathe the name. “Caitlin. You love her?”

“Of course I do. Anyone who meets her does.”

I look away then, suddenly nervous, like I’m breaking open in front of him.

“What’s the matter, Zoya?”

I don’t answer, not until he squeezes my knees, and not gently.

“Remember the rules,” he says softly. “Tell me the truth. What are you thinking, love?”

So I do. I tell him.

“What if your family doesn’t love me? What if they don’t like me? What if I don’t fit in? I’m different, you know.”

He turns to face me fully. His eyes hold mine,unwavering.

“Anybody who doesn’t love you,” he says, “is a goddamn fool.”

And I believe him.

Because it’s Seamus. Because he says it like it’s the most obvious truth in the world.

A long silence falls between us. It’s not awkward, but comfortable. Natural.

“I like this,” I whisper when he brushes his thumb across the top of my hand. His eyes flick to mine, then tilt toward the sea. He cants his head. “What’s ‘this’?” he murmurs. “The quiet? The talking? The solitude?”

I don’t answer. I just look out at the sea with him.

It’s endless and constant.

“I like this too,” he says, his voice quieter now. Thoughtful.

“I don’t want to be negative, darlin’, but I have to tell you. This quiet, it’s the calm before the storm.” His jaw tightens, and his breath catches like he already knows it too.

I nod.

“You know, I’ve got fears of my own,” he says after a long pause.