Chapter 2: The familiar stranger

Three Days Earlier.

"I'll be an hour, tops. I promise." Michelle sighed into the mobile phone balanced precariously between her shoulder and her ear, as she fumbled in her handbag for her purse. Robert grumbled on the other end of the line, with the short-tempered irritation that had become all too familiar in recent months.

"I'm sorry, babe. Mum needed stuff for lunch. Yes, I know we were going to have a lie in, but I am here to help them out." She rolled her eyes, successfully retrieving her purse, slinging her bag over her arm and taking her mobile in her free hand. "Just go back to sleep, and by the time you're up and showered I'll be home. Okay? Okay, I love you too. Bye babe. Bye."

Michelle sighed as she hung up the phone. Weaving between cars on a beeline for the entrance of the local supermarket, she began to type out a quick message to Carla. With her attention fixed on her mobile, and her mood heightened from the confrontation of the phone call, the not-so-delicate brush against her shoulder from an Irish stranger was enough to send her over the edge.

"Watch it!" She snapped, spinning around to confront her assailant. As her eyes fell upon him, she froze.

"Chelle?" He questioned, his accent thick and rich, a small smile creeping into the corner of his mouth. He still looked the same: dark hair pushed back into an almost spiky style; stubble lining his chiselled jaw; blue eyes glinting with a familiar charm. He'd barely aged at all.

"Ciaran?" She breathed, momentarily forgetting herself.

"What are you doing here?"

Michelle was silent for a moment, flustered at this unexpected meeting. It was like she'd been suddenly transported back seven years, to a time in her life that she'd all but suppressed from memory. Her heart rate quickened as she stared at him. She shook her head, snapping herself out of it and planting a stern expression on her face.

"Aren't you going to say sorry?" She demanded, folding her arms. He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her sudden change in demeanour.

"For what?" He teased, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Bumping into me!"

"Chelle, you weren't looking where you were going. If anything, you bumped into me." He grinned. Michelle scoffed.

"Oh, how old are you?" She snapped, sarcastically. He had a nerve, she decided. How dare he appear in front of her so abruptly, catching her off guard, and act so smug about it. Even so, looking at him now, that wry smile struck across his face, she felt her cheeks begin to flush. She wasn't sure it could be put solely down to frustration.

"Still as feisty as ever then, ey?" He chuckled. "Go on then, what are you doing back in Kildare?"

"Dad's ill." She replied, bluntly, shifting from one foot to the other. Ciaran's face softened.

"Barry? I'm sorry Chelle."

"Not your fault, is it?" She sighed. They stood in silence for a moment, eyes trained on one another. Awkwardly, Michelle dropped her gaze to the floor.

"Do you fancy getting a coffee?" Ciaran asked, hopefully. Michelle glanced up again, her brow knotted in confusion at this sudden invitation. She wasn't sure what was more surprising; the offer itself, or the fact that she was tempted. She'd been so stressed recently: what with Ray and the bistro, and now her father's illness; that it was quite a relief to run into a friendly face. Someone so disconnected from her current life, but familiar enough to be a comfort. Even if he was an immature, annoying man-child with nothing going for him other than his good looks and their shared history. She sighed.

"I'd love to, really. But I've got to get some bits for mum. And I promised Robert I'd be home by ten."

Ciaran raised an eyebrow.

"Robert?"

"My fiancé..." She admitted, quietly.

"Oh, right." He couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice. A split-second later, he'd recovered himself, and was grinning back at Michelle. "I'll help you."

"What?" Michelle questioned, taken aback by his sudden enthusiasm.

"With the shopping. What do you need?"

"Milk, teabags, bread, toothpaste..." She reeled off from memory. Ciaran smiled.

"Right, well, I'll head for the milk and the teabags and you can get the other bits. My guess is we'll be out by quarter past which leaves us with 45 minutes to get a coffee."

Michelle let out a breath, shaking her head; his seemingly innocent intentions finally revealing his ulterior motive.

"You don't give up, do you?" She laughed, exasperated. He shrugged, nonchalantly.

"I just think it would be nice, while we're both here, to catch up. Just a friendly coffee between two old pals."

"Oi, less of the old!"

"So, what do you say?"

Michelle sighed. Getting a coffee was surely harmless. She was catching up with an old friend, nothing more. She let a small smile creep across her lips, rolling her eyes.

"Okay then. One coffee. But you're paying."

Michelle cradled her latte in her hands, the warmth of the liquid a comfort on the cold October morning, as she giggled along to one of Ciaran's animated tales.

"And then, he pushed him in the pool!" He finished, chuckling.

"No! What did they do?"

"Well there wasn't much they could do. We were in the middle of the Atlantic, and we weren't due to dock until three days later!"

"That waiter was a right snob though, to be fair. I'd have done the same." Michelle giggled, remembering the little man fondly, with his balding hair and turned up nose.

"I don't doubt it for a second!" Ciaran quipped. He took a sip of his americano, before turning his attention back to Michelle. He examined her features closely, as he had been doing since the moment she'd sat down opposite him in the tiny café. She looked as beautiful as ever; her hair longer and lighter; her eyeliner carefully tracing her lash line in exactly the same way as it had all those years ago. He remembered the time she used to take ensuring that each side was perfectly matched, letting out an irritated huff whenever anyone would try to talk to her during this task that required so much of her concentration. He suppressed a giggle at the thought, suspecting that that probably hadn't changed.

His heart felt a pang of grief, as it often did when he thought of her, as he realised that now it would be someone else causing the distraction. He remembered her mention of him earlier, and decided it was time to breach the subject.

"So, this Robert. What's that all about?" He laughed, trying to appear noncommittal. She scowled at his choice of phrase, placing her mug down on the coffee stained coaster resting on the table.

"Robert's great. He's charming, and loyal, and handsome... He's really been there for me."

"So how long have you two been an item?"

"Nearly three years."

"And you haven't tied the knot already? That's not like you, Michelle. Usually you're raring to get a ring on that finger..." He teased. She laughed.

"God, you make me sound so shallow. We tried, last summer. But that was a total disaster." She sighed.

"What happened?"

"Long story short, the local serial killer crashed the ceremony and shot me." She stated, dryly. Ciaran looked taken aback.

"Christ."

"Yeah. It wasn't ideal."

"So, when you say serial killer..."

"He killed four people, and shot two more. Me included." She let out a laugh. "I considered having t-shirts made as favours for the congregation. You know, 'I survived Pat Phelan'."

"No wonder you're such a successful business woman with ideas like that..." Ciaran teased. "So, you're gonna try again? With the whole wedding thing."

"Yes."

"Got a date?"

"Now that would be telling..." Michelle smirked. She glanced down at the mug in her hands, the last tendrils of coffee swirling in the bottom. She sighed. "I should really be getting home."

"Don't you want one more?" Ciaran pressed, hopefully. Despite having sat down with their drinks nearly forty minutes ago, it felt as though they'd only just arrived. Michelle shook her head.

"Thank you for this. It's been nice catching up." She said, as she stood up, pulling her bag over her shoulder and retrieving her shopping from where it had been resting at her feet. "Maybe one day we'll run into each other again."

They locked eyes for a moment, neither one wanting to say the parting words. Finally, Ciaran sighed.

"Bye, Michelle..."

"Bye Ciaran."

Michelle wandered quickly out of the coffee shop, not daring to glance back. She had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach that she could only equate to stress. Or at least, that's what she told herself.

She couldn't deny that there was a spark between them. Of course there would be, given their history. They didn't exactly split on bad terms: very much in love and wanting the best for each other. But it had been so long since they'd even spoken, let alone sat together, face to face. The whole experience had caught her totally off guard.

She loved Robert. There was no doubt about that. And he loved her, too. They'd been through so much together. He'd been loyal; helped her through things she never thought she'd survive. But over the past few months, the spark between them had dulled. Michelle had put it down to stress, and the distractions Ray had brought. But seeing Ciaran again had set off a firework inside her. Her stomach crawled with butterflies as she pictured him, smiling across from her, cradling his coffee. She hated to admit it, but she couldn't remember feeling that way about Robert. Not for a long time, at least.

She took a deep breath, trying to suppress the rising guilt she felt. 'It was just coffee...' She silently told herself. 'It's not like you've had an affair." She knew that cheating on Robert was totally out of the question. He'd been faithful to her, through all of their ups and downs, so why would she throw it all back in his face? Besides, she'd been there before. Her affair with Will, whilst it had been short lived, had ultimately brought her more pain than it was worth. And whilst she knew deep down that Ciaran wasn't a psycho that would lock her in the boot of a car, she wasn't prepared to take that risk.

She reached her car, slung her bags onto the passenger seat and sunk into the driver's side. She sat for a few moments, trying to organise the thoughts in her head. She was interrupted by the buzzing of her phone. Pulling it out of her handbag, she read the message on the screen.

I took your number while you were in the loos. It was lovely to see you again. Let's not leave it so long next time x

Michelle sighed.

Their unexpected meeting had thrown up so many questions for Michelle. Questions that needed answering.

With trembling fingers, she sent a text back.

Three Days Later.

Michelle scuffed her heels nervously against the ground, focussing her attention on the babbling brook beneath the bridge. The stone wall was cold beneath her elbows as she rested her head in her hands, while her stomach twisted in knots.

She wasn't sure why she felt so guilty. It wasn't as if they were actually going to do anything. Perhaps she should have just been honest with Robert in the first place about where she was going. She let out a sigh. No, he would have gotten the wrong idea.

The sound of footsteps on gravel made her heart rate quicken. She stood up and turned, glancing at the area where the footpath led onto the bridge. She watched as Ciaran strutted towards her: hands tucked snugly into trouser pockets; coat collar turned up and shoulders hunched against the wind.

"Could you not have picked somewhere warmer to meet? Like a pub or something?" He smirked as he approached. She rolled her eyes.

"Thanks for coming." She smiled.

"So, what exactly are we doing here?" He asked. She let out a sigh, eyes dropping to the ground.

"I just feel like we have unfinished business…" She confessed, avoiding eye contact with the man before her, who was looking at her intently.

"Right…"

"And I'm not sure I can go back and marry Robert with all this going on."

Ciaran raised an eyebrow; eyes still trained on his ex-fiancé.

"My head's a wreck, Ciaran. After the other day, a load of stuff's been dredged up. You know, everything that happened between us. The way it ended. I guess I just pushed it all down and tried to forget about it. But now I've realised that I haven't, and I can't. And it's not fair on any of us for me to try and move on again with all these questions, all these 'what ifs', floating around in my head."

Michelle paused, lifting her eyes to gauge his reaction, and took a deep breath. Ciaran's mouth turned up at the corner.

"You are so dramatic." He laughed. She let out a giggle, eyes dropping to the ground once more. "But, sure. I agree. We need to talk about everything. Get a few things cleared up."

Michelle smiled.

"Yeah. But not here. Follow me."

Michelle linked her arm through his and led him across the bridge, taking a left at the end and carefully treading down the embankment of the river. She knew exactly where to go. Ciaran followed, bewildered. They walked several metres alongside the water, following the twists and turns of the brook, expertly weaving around tree roots whilst avoiding the spots where the water lapped at the grassy bank. The pair reached the dell: a familiar area for Michelle; where the tree branches extended skyward, blocking out the sun and casting shadows on the ground below. As they emerged from the woodland, they continued on, towards the crumbling stone walls that lay ahead.

"You know; I never even knew this was here…" Ciaran mused, following Michelle into the tower house. He glanced upwards, to where the sunlight filtered through the holes in the ceiling, and where the branches of a fruit-laden tree sought exit from the stone fortress. He plucked a wild fruit from the tree, swiftly juggling it between his hands before discarding it on the dirt floor.

He crept further into the building, to where Michelle was stood on the other side of the tree. He watched her intently, as she took a deep breath, eyes closed and chin lifted towards the sky.

"I really missed you when you left." She admitted, allowing her eyes to open. She turned her head to look at him. "I tried so hard to push you out of my mind; jumping straight back into work at the factory. But all I could think about was you. What you could be doing, who you were with, whether you'd met someone else…"

Ciaran sighed, taking a step closer to her. "I was the same. The ship wasn't the same without you."

"I just wish we'd have talked it through. Kept in contact or something. I mean, I'm not saying we would have got back together or anything-"

"No, of course not."

"But maybe if we'd have talked, we could have laid things to rest. Moved on properly." Michelle let out a sigh.

"Then we'll talk now. Get it all out in the open." Ciaran said. Michelle nodded, before letting out a laugh.

"Where do we even start?" She asked. Ciaran shrugged.

"How are you?" He asked. She rolled her eyes, a smirk on her face. He took a step forward. "No, really. How are you? How's your dad?"

Michelle took a deep breath. She had been so busy caring for her father, running around after her mother, and trying to get her head around Robert's seemingly distant behaviour that she hadn't had a chance to stop and think about how she was actually feeling. If she was honest, it was all getting a bit too much.

"I don't know…" She shrugged, dropping her gaze to the floor.

Ciaran's instincts took over and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. Michelle allowed her head to rest against his chest, relaxing into his embrace. They held each other tightly, finding comfort in each other's warmth.

"What the hell's going on?" A shrill voice rang out through the stone ruins, causing both Michelle and Ciaran to startle. As they jumped apart, Michelle's eyes fell directly upon her best friend: arms folded tightly across her chest, a look that could only be described as a mix of shock and disgust spread across her face.

"Well?"

Author: bananabreakdowns