"I had a feelin' you'd be here."

Dessie slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket and smiled when he saw Catherine leaning against his car. He just finished visiting Darragh at Milltown so seeing her did wonders for the sorrow filling his heart.

Once he crossed the Falls Road, the first thing Dessie did was gather her in his arms. She hugged him back with the same tightness, knowing the emptiness he was feeling walking out of the cemetery all too well.

"Were you plannin' on visitin', too?"

With her head resting in the crook of his neck, Dessie could feel her nod. While he was at the point where the visits were becoming easier and easier, they weren't ready to walk through those gates together just yet. The idea of a joint visit still seemed a bit disrespectful.

"I was gonna tell him, but I can see ya beat me to it."

Dessie ran his fingers through her hair. "Figured it should come from me first. Man-to-man, ya know?"

"I get it," she chuckled. "My Da called me a wee bit ago and said ya visited him, too. You didn't have to do that, I would've told him."

"Me and your da - we have a complicated relationship. It's better that I told him."

Catherine lifted her head and snuck her hands through his open jacket, setting them on his sides. "Why's that?"

Dessie looked straight into her deep blue eyes, unable to bring himself to tell her the reason. If he divulged any more information about his first marriage, it would only open the door to more questions he didn't want her to know the answers to. Not because he was ashamed, but because he was afraid she wouldn't accept just how messy his past was.

He kissed her nose. "Nothin' ya need to be worryin' about. All I need you focused on is keepin' your stress down. For the next six-and-a-half-months, let me take care of everythin'."

"I'm pregnant, Dessie. Not an invalid."

"I know that, but ya really need to take what the doc said seriously. You're not as young as you were when you had Eamonn and Sean, so the stress you're under is startin' to take its tolls on your body. Your job right now is to stay healthy so our baby stays healthy."

Catherine hated to admit he was right. She couldn't be running herself ragged or stressing over things that were out of her control. Unfortunately, it was easier said than done.

Breaking her gaze from Dessie's, she looked over his shoulder to the looming gates of Milltown.

"I don't think we'd still be together," she started. "We wanted such different things outta life."

Hearing her say that so brazenly took Dessie by surprise, but he wasn't shocked at all by her realization. Many times Darragh fled Belfast to crash at his flat after a fight with Catherine. On several occasions when too much alcohol was consumed, Darragh would admit he didn't see his relationship with her going anywhere. They were wildly in love but never saw eye-to-eye. When things were good, they were amazing. When they were bad, life was miserable.

As Darragh would sulk, telling Dessie he felt trapped with Catherine because she was pregnant with Sean, it gutted Dessie to think he didn't appreciate her.

He liked to remind Darragh he and Catherine had two very different life experiences which shaped the way they each viewed life.

"That's because his mind never left Maghaberry. Some lads just never get over the shite that happened there."

"You got over it."

That's debatable, Dessie thought.

"I accepted my fate the moment I was arrested," he admitted. "They gave me five life-sentences for what I did. I was supposed to die in that place. Every day I'm outside of those of walls is a miracle and I'll never allow me'self to forget that. Darragh lost years of his life for somethin' he didn't even do. I was guilty as sin and I only lost eighteen months before they released me. He had a right to be bitter."

Ever since she fell head-over-heels for Dessie, Catherine now lived in a constant state of fear. Him being released under the Good Friday Agreement didn't mean those life sentences no longer loomed over his head. The way Catherine saw it, the real miracle was that he's gone nearly a decade without having his license revoked - no longer being in support of, or an active member of a paramilitary organization was the first condition of early release. The PSNI and MI5 suspected he went right back to his old ways, this time they just couldn't prove it.

She hated to even think about the possibility of him being sent back to Maghaberry to serve out his time.

"Darragh was bitter because of Jimmy, too. He blamed himself for me bein' with Jimmy because he was gone when I first…" she trailed off. "I tried to run from Ireland with the boys just to get away from Darragh. But I never thought to do that with Jimmy. The fuck does that say about me?"

Dessie heard the thickness in her voice and saw the bubbles of tears in the corners of her eyes. He placed his finger under her chin, nudging it up so she'd look at him. She fought his gaze for a quick moment, then gave in.

"When you aren't spoon-fed love and affection, ya quickly learn to lick it off a knife. I'm not tryin' to shite on Darragh here, but after Eamonn was born, he was only there for you when it was convenient for him, while Jimmy's always been up your arse. Ya took what you could get. It's not his fault and it's not your fault."

"You blame me or hate me over my past with Jimmy?"

"Never. My past isn't pretty either - all I care about is the future. Even if it's God's will that I live out the rest of my days in Maghaberry, I promise you'll never have to lick that blade again for as long as I'm alive."

Catherine slapped his chest. "Don't fuckin' say shite like that."

Dessie felt like an ass for saying it, but the possibility couldn't be ignored. Obviously, he wasn't the only one thinking about it. By the way her mood completely shifted, Dessie sensed he needed damage control, and while this wasn't how he expected it to happen, it was a moment as good as any.

"Ya wanna know what I went to talk with your da about?" he asked.

Catherine slowly nodded. After scrubbing his hands over his face, Dessie reached into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled the ring box out. He knew he didn't need to get down on one knee or have some elaborate speech ready where he rambled on about how much he loves and cherishes her. Catherine already knew how much he did, and the chances of her remembering any of what he said once the box was open were slim.

Besides, this way was more them. Spur-of-the-moment, relaxed, no pressure. Just how their relationship blossomed.

When Dessie lifted the lid, Catherine instantly covered her mouth with her hands. It was the most beautiful ring she ever laid eyes on. Everything that's happened in life suddenly seemed worth it, because it all led up to this very moment.

"Catherine Mary, you're my best friend, and I love ya more than you'll ever know. Will you marry me?"

"Yes! A thousand times yes! Of course, I will!"

Before he could even get the ring out of the box, Catherine wrapped her arms snugly around his neck. She kissed him over and over, experiencing for the first time what genuine happiness and love felt like.

Finally letting go of him, Catherine held out her left hand as Dessie slid the ring on her finger.

"Not to be a dick, but I had it sized before you got pregnant so hopefully it fits."

Catherine didn't take offense. She was far more bloated this early on than she ever was with Eamonn or Sean. It was snug, but thankfully he managed to get it on.

With the ring finally on Catherine's finger and no longer burning a hole in Dessie's pocket, he was more ready than ever to break the news to Jimmy.


Dessie was three beers deep and halfway through the Celtic's match when his phone rang on the cushion beside him. When he saw Cate sprawled across the screen, a small smile spread. Picking it up, he flipped it open.

"Hey, baby, what's up?" he asked.

Catherine softly sighed. "Just crawlin' into bed. I'm absolutely exhausted, which is to be expected." The line went quiet for a second, making him think the call dropped. "I really miss you…we miss you."

Dessie dropped his head and bit his bottom lip. Hearing her say that made it felt like the wind was knocked out of him. Just three months more, he reminded himself. Three months until they moved into their house and their life together could begin.

"I miss youse, too. How've you been feelin'?"

"I had a hard time eatin' today because the smell of everythin' just makes me sick. And the nurse who took my blood today blew my vein so I have a wee bruise."

"Keep ice on it," he reminded her before finishing the last mouthful of beer in the can. "Did the boys give ya any trouble tonight?"

"Thankfully no. Brien took 'em to the park after school to play some rugby while I ran out to pick up our marriage applications, so they were more exhausted than I am."

Less than eight hours since he proposed and she already got the paperwork. She wasn't wasting a single second as they both wanted to be married well before the baby was born.

"Already got the applications, huh? I think you're just a wee bit excited."

"Hell yeah I am," she laughed. "It's such shite we have to wait twenty-eight bloody days after we get the paperwork in. I'd become Catherine Dennehy tomorrow if I damn well could."

Catherine Dennehy—goddamn did that have a nice ring to it, Dessie thought.

While he was happy she was excited to become his wife, Dessie didn't want it stressing her out. There was already enough on her plate. "Patience, my love. It'll happen before ya know it."

Catherine wanted to ask how his conversation with Jimmy had gone earlier, but she decided against it. He assured her he'd take care of any issues, and nor did she want to ruin the mood when she had something fun in mind. She took a deep breath, finding her confidence. After five months of long-distance dating, she was ready to kick it up a notch.

"I'm wearin' those satin knickers you really like."

"Oh?" he said, his curiosity heightened. "The white ones with the wee black polka dots?"

"Aye."

Dessie set the empty beer can on the table and sat up a little straighter. He had an idea where this was going.

"What else are ya wearin'?"

"Absolutely nothin'," she purred. Her words were slow and drawn out.

At the thought of Catherine sprawled out on her bed in nothing but the panties that drove him mad, all of the blood drained from Dessie's head and rushed below his waist.

She spoke again, "I'm gently tracin' my fingers along my inner-thigh just like how you do it, and I can feel myself gettin' wet."

"Fuckin' hell," he breathed. "You're killin' me here."

"I want you to pin me down, and hold my wrists to the bed as you spread my legs with yours. I want you to completely overpower me; no matter how much I struggle against you, there's nothin' that can stop ya from slidin' deep inside me."

Overwhelmed, he reached for the television remote and muted the volume. He wanted his attention on Catherine and only Catherine. The Celtic's would have to wait.

"Slide your fingers inside yourself, baby. Tell me how wet you are."

"I'm fuckin' soaked, just for you. I'm startin' slow on my clit; those small circles you love teasin' me with." Dessie's head nearly exploded when he heard delicate whimpers start to spill from her mouth. "Fuck…that feels so good, Dessie."

He couldn't take it anymore, nor could he let her have all the fun. Holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder, Dessie managed to undo his belt, and shove down his jeans and boxers in record time. He could feel the small beads of sweat forming along his forehead, the back of his neck.

Spitting into his palm he wasted no time getting to work, gliding his hand up and down the length of his steel shaft.

"I'm not keepin' ya on your back for long," he said, his usually husky voice was strangled with lust. "I'll flip ya over, then prop you up on your knees so your back is against my chest. I'll kiss you as I ease my cock into your cunt nice and slow."

Catherine moaned. "God, I love how much ya fill me up. As you're poundin' into me, I'll hook my arms around your neck and tug on your hair. Then I'll scream your name when you reach around and start rubbin' my clit at the same time."

"Ya like when I do that?"

"I do. It drives me fuckin' mad. I love it, even more, when you take my hand and make me feel your cock slidin' in and out of me." It was only when he grunted did Catherine realize what he was up to. "Are you close, Dessie? I want you to cum for me, baby."

"So fuckin' close…not until I hear you first."

Listening to Catherine getting herself off made it difficult for Dessie to hold back his release. Once he heard the sweet sympathy of her cries of ecstasy, it was all over for him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he stroked one last time. The stars floating behind his eyelids exploded like supernovas and a bolt of lightning shot down his spine. His voice was nowhere to be found as his breaths came out in short, sharp huffs. When it was over, Dessie uncurled his fingers from around his sensitive cock, surveying the gooey mess left behind.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph." He caught his breath. "Nice work, O'Toole. You've made me spunk all over me'self."

"Not my fault at all," she giggled. "I never told ya to have a wank."

"Don't ya be tryin' to play coy, you devilish minx. Ya knew exactly what you were doin' when ya picked up the phone."

"Fine then. I just won't call ya to that again."

"Hey now. I wouldn't get that hasty. I will gladly be a willin' participant over the phone the next time you're feelin' randy and I am unable to personal service ya."

"Dear Lord."

Tossing the phone down for a second, he pulled off his t-shirt. He used it to wipe himself off then tossed it aside, pulling his jeans back up.

"Did ya take the meds the doc gave ya?" Dessie reminded her.

He knew just how scatter-brained she was as of late, and it frustrated him he couldn't be there to help Catherine stay on top of everything. Both Dessie and the doctor had been less than enthused about the results of her latest blood test, which now meant she was on a new vitamin regimen. Not to mention, the stress she was under from daily life was teetering her blood pressure, so she was being monitored for preeclampsia. The last thing Dessie wanted to see was her become a high-risk pregnancy over Jimmy and the IRA.

"Not yet," she stopped to yawn, "I'll do it right now."

He heard her rustling around as she got dressed, then the squeak of her bedroom door opening.

"So, I was lookin' and I saw the Rangers'll be home this weekend. Figured we'd take the boys to see 'em play."

"Wow!" Dessie hollered, lighting a cigarette. "Hell has officially frozen over if you're proposin' we go to a fixture that isn't rugby."

"Oh, don't worry, once I'm livin' in Cross I'll still drag your arse up to Belfast to watch the Ulster lads play."

"Ya just like watchin' those fellas run around in the wee shorts. Maybe hopin' somethin'll pop out."

"Aye," Catherine sighed. "Guilty as charged. It's no different than you and the lads crowdin' around the telly to watch ladies volleyball."

"I just don't understand the point of wearin' shorts that tight. In my professional opinion, they should just be playin' in their knickers for even better mobility."

"Well, it's my professional opinion-" she stopped midsentence, her tone unchanged. "Hey Ma, I'll have to call ya back, I've company."

Those were the words Dessie hoped he wouldn't have to hear Catherine mutter. He dropped his half-smoked cigarette into the empty beer can and got up to find a fresh shirt. "I'm on my way; I'll be there as soon as I can."


Catherine snapped her phone shut and gently set it on the counter as she crossed the threshold into the kitchen. She didn't have the slightest idea how Jimmy managed his way into her house, considering she had taken back her key from Fiona over two months ago. On top of Dessie making it every clear to Jimmy, he isn't to come within a three-block radius of the house.

He was sitting at the table, a neglected cigarette pinched between his index and middle fingers. He held a thousand-yard stare, fixated on the photo stuck to the fridge with a magnet. It was of Dessie and Catherine - Eamonn in his arms and Sean in hers. It had been taken on Christmas morning so the four of them were in their matching pajamas. Jimmy fucking hated how happy they seemed together. The smiles were genuine, there was a sparkle in the four pairs of eyes.

In his jaded mind, Jimmy felt sorry for Catherine. Dessie wasn't a real man, because to him, no real man would ever wear let his woman push him into wearing those tacky matching pajamas.

"You need to leave," she said, picking up the prescription bottle of folic acid off the window sill above the sink. She kept him in the corner of her eye as she shook a tablet into her hand and filled a glass with water.

"You weren't gonna tell me yourself?" His words were slightly slurring. He was drunk. Wonderful. "Thirty-fuckin'-years I've been by your side and you didn't have the decent common courtesy to tell me you've a goddamn baby on the way."

Catherine sat across from him. "I didn't even wanna tell ya. If it were up to me, I'd already be livin' in Cross without so much as a bloody goodbye. It was Dessie who wanted you to know, and it's Dessie who doesn't think it's a good idea to pull the boys outta St. Matthew's when they only have a few months left."

"You're a real piece of work, ya know that?"

She didn't say a word. She had to keep her cool and not upset him until Dessie got there to handle it. Maybe this would be the wake-up Dessie needed to realize her staying in Belfast would do more harm than good. The boys were resilient, they'd adjust to a new school in no time.

Jimmy tossed the cigarette into the ashtray and reached out to grab Catherine's left hand. He raised his eyebrows as he examined the ample round diamond sitting on her ring finger.

"When did this happen?"

"Earlier today."

She tried to pull her hand back, but Jimmy kept in it in his strong grip, moving it side-to-side so he could see how it sparkled in the light. Even he had to admit it was a gorgeous piece of jewelry that suited her. Now he knew what Dessie had spent this month's cut of the cigarette profits on. It was undoubtedly expensive, yet he still wasn't impressed.

"If you marry me instead of that low-life, I'll get you a bigger diamond."

Catherine didn't give a shit about the size of the diamond Dessie gave her. She'd marry him with a piece of string tied around her finger.

Locking eyes with Jimmy, Catherine spoke honestly. "I wouldn't marry you even if doin' so would bring independence to the six counties." He dropped her hand with a huff and picked up another cigarette. "Dessie isn't a low life, either, so stop talkin' shite about him. He's a good man; more of a man than you'll ever be."

After lighting his cigarette, Jimmy tossed his lighter on the table. "Ya think he's a good man. He ever tell ya why his first marriage fell apart? Or anythin' about the two kids he abandoned?"

"He said it just didn't work - his ex-wife couldn't handle him bein' in prison. And he didn't abandon 'em; she took off for Scotland after the divorce was finalized. He was in Maghaberry, there was nothin' he could do."

"He's lyin' to ya. It fell apart because he's a dog, Catherine. The man fucked nearly the entire female population of Northern Ireland, and probably half that of the Republic while he was married. Ya sure he's not doin' the same to you?"

"You're the fuckin' liar," she scoffed. "Dessie would never do that."

Jimmy's smirk was mocking and sarcastic. "Don't believe me? Ask him yourself. Has he ever told ya when his daughter, wee Rosie, was born?"

"No," she whispered. Catherine felt like she was going to be sick, and it had nothing to do with her raging hormones.

"Let's see here," Jimmy blew out a stream of smoke. "I joined the Ra in '83 after I got outta the Army, and it was also the same year Dessie joined. Eilish popped only a few months later, so '84, I would guess."

Jimmy watched as all the color drained from Catherine's face while she did the math in her head. Maybe the marriage wouldn't be happening after all.

Oh, well.

"She's - she's...Jesus-fuckin'-Christ."

Catherine's entire world came crumbling down around her. Now she understood why Dessie never talked much about his past. She always thought it had been because he never wanted to relive it. Turns out, he kept it under lock and key because he didn't want her ever finding out that very damning piece of information. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Every breath lodged in her tightening throat.

"Kinda weird, isn't it?" Wantin' to be with someone who's only five years older than your daughter? And the way he would speak of ya when you were only eighteen was downright awful."

Even drunk, Jimmy knew exactly what he was doing.