I barely slept last night as I tried to recall every time Aoife and I had s*x. I counted eight, maybe nine times. Some memories are fuzzier than others because when I was sent to the sickbay, it was because I was either concussed or bleeding on the cusp of passing out.
I never wanted any painkillers, but sometimes, I needed them to help shut out the pain. They’ve always messed with my head which is why I hate taking them. I now wonder if maybe one of those times when I was f****d up, I did something stupid—like getting Aoife pregnant.
“I’m not judgin’, but how did ye get away with it?” Cian asks, sipping his coffee.
I, on the other hand, am on my third whiskey.
“Riverbend House wasn’t yer average prison, Cian. There were no rules. But there’s no way that could be my chile.”
Cian doesn
