Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the love you showed the first chapter! I am so grateful and thank you so much for coming back to read chapter 2!


With the kitchen surfaces all wiped down, Margaret put the rag in her hand in the sink before bracing herself against the counter and touching the heel of her palm to her forehead when a sudden dizziness came over her. Her legs felt unstable and she was certain her knees would buckle beneath her should she try to make her way to the table, so she just stood there and took several long, deep breaths in the hope it would help the moment pass and she could get on with the multitude of other jobs she needed to get through before lunchtime arrived.

Since it was Sunday, her husband was home from the mines all day and that only ever meant an awfully early start and a much later end. He tended to wake earlier on his day off than on the days he had to work – it was truly as though he did it on purpose, though she would never dare accuse him of such – and one would hope he would be careful and quiet when he rose so as not to disturb her, but this was her husband she was talking about and if there was one thing that man didn't believe in then it was letting her have a luxury such as that. No, every Sunday without fail he would wake at around four and this morning wasn't different in the slightest.

He made sure to nudge her when he got up, though he swore it was unintentional, and then he stomped and clattered about the room for a time to ensure she was fully awake before making his way downstairs and doing the exact same thing. By the time she actually made it downstairs, the kitchen was a state and the lounge was no better and she very nearly crumbled at the unconcerned look he gave her when she found him sitting in his chair. He only did it because she made sure to neaten the place up before she went to bed so she would have a little less on her plate this morning. He did it to be cruel, there was no other motive, and she hated him for it.

In the end, she never made it to church – her only time away from him and only moment of peace all day – because he refused point blank to let her leave the house until her cleaning was done and done to his standard.

It was nearing ten o'clock now and she had only just gotten done with the kitchen and was already exhausted. She sorted the lounge beforehand, so at least that was done, but now she had piles upon piles of laundry to do and there was no doubt in her mind that it was going to take her the rest of the day to get through all of that.

"Margaret!"

Her husband shouting her from the lounge pulled her from her thoughts and she let out a shuddering breath, running her hands down the front of her apron before she turned on her heel and wandered out of the kitchen and into the other room. He was in the bath where she left him some time ago and he looked displeased with her to put it lightly which was nothing new at this point. "Sorry, I was just sorting the kitchen and I was in…"

"Oh, be quiet," He muttered, pushing a hand through his damp hair. "You let my bath water go cold."

She frowned. "But I only put more in about ten minutes ago."

"Are you insinuating I'm lying, woman?" He spat as his eyes darkened.

"No, not at all," Was her quick response as she walked over to him before turning to the hearth and reaching for the bucket that hung above the flames. "Let me go and get some more water and I'll sort this out for you."

He hummed. "You could perhaps make yourself useful for once and make me some tea while you're at it."

"Of course," She nodded with a slight smile. "I'll be back in a minute."

When he sank further into the water and closed his eyes, going back to ignoring her, her smile faded and she glared at him for a moment before making her way out of the lounge again and returning to the little kitchen. Her shoes were by the door and so she pushed her feet into them before leaving the house to wander down to the end of the street to the well. In all honesty, they were lucky to have one so close by so that she didn't have to walk miles each time she needed to collect some water because she truly had no doubt that it would kill her.

Once she reached the little well, she collected enough water to top up her husband's bath and a tiny bit extra for the kettle before heading back home and sighing to herself as she entered the kitchen again. She then put a little water into the kettle and started it boiling on the stove before carrying the bucket through to the lounge. Ciarán opened his eyes and looked at her again when she entered and set about hanging the bucket back over the flames in order to heat up the water, the same miserable expression etched into his features that she simply chose not to pay attention to. It was something she learned not to do years ago, let his dark moods get to her.

"Ciarán…?" She turned to him with a raise of an eyebrow, playing nervously with her hands.

"What?" He huffed with exasperation. "Can't a man even take a bath without his wife in his ear anymore?"

For a moment, she was silent as she looked at him before he gave her a look that told her to continue talking. "I meant to ask you the other day, but I forgot. When Aoibheann and I went out for tea together, she asked if I would mind watching the wee ones for her because Riordan has plans to take her out to dinner on Thursday night. It…it would only be for a matter of hours and I can make your dinner before I leave so it's ready when you want it. I told her that I don't mind watching them for her, but I made sure to let her know that I would have to speak to you about it before I could commit to anything. Would you mind if I helped her out with it?"

"If it means a peaceful evening for me, you can stay there all night as far as I'm concerned." He replied.

"I'll let her know that I'll be there when I next see her then." She nodded, turning to walk away once again.

"You'll be seeing her tonight." He told her which prompted her to look over her shoulder at him.

"I will?"

"Yes, she and Riordan are coming to join us for dinner."

"When was that arranged? She never mentioned anything about it to me the other day." She said.

He shook his head. "It was a last minute thing. I said you wouldn't mind cooking for the four of us."

"I don't, uhm, I don't mind exactly…" She stammered. "I'm just not sure we have enough food in for us all."

"Well, that's where you use something called common sense and go into town." He pointed out.

Oh, she loathed it when he spoke to her in that way.

When he made out she was some kind of idiot that had no idea what she was doing.

"I can do that," Her voice was soft. "I might not be able to go until later though because I have a lot to do."

"I don't care when you go as long as you do it," He brushed her off. "Now, you were getting me my tea?"

In silence, bristling with frustration, she left the room again and when she entered the kitchen and spotted the teacup sitting there on the counter she found she couldn't hold back. She stormed over to it and picked it up before launching it at the wall opposite, breathing heavily as she watched it shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.

"What have you gone and done now?"

"I…I dropped a teacup. I'll clean it up."

When her husband never gave her a response, she stopped holding back the tears blurring her vision and lifted a hand to her mouth to quieten the sob that left her as her legs gave way beneath her. Her tears trickled down her face as she brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, burying her face in the skirt of her dress, and she stopped caring about anyone or anything else and let herself break down completely.

Honestly, she was unsure how much more of this she could take.

Her sole reason for staying with Ciarán was because leaving him would undoubtedly mean her life, but at this point she was questioning if it would actually be better for her to just fade away and be forgotten by the world.

Perhaps…perhaps it would be better if she'd just never been born.


Closing the bedroom door behind her later that day, she padded over to the little window and shut the drapes before turning to the bed and making her way over to it. On her way home from town she was hit by a horrid wave of nausea and, by some miracle, she managed to keep from vomiting in the middle of the street. Luckily, it eased as she walked and it was far more bearable now than it had been earlier, but she now had a headache and the light-headedness she experienced that morning had come back tenfold. Before she could even consider making a start on dinner, she needed to lie down for a bit because she wouldn't be able to work at all like this.

Once she was in bed and she was comfortable she laid her head on her pillow and sighed, closing her eyes and willing her head to stop pounding quite so much, but just as it started to ease and she felt herself beginning to slip into slumber she heard the creak of the staircase and her heart sank. It came as no surprise, really, for she was well aware before she even came upstairs that he would come looking for her, but she knew what she was in for and it would be putting it lightly to say that she didn't feel strong enough to sit and listen to him moan.

Before long, the bedroom door opened again and she slowly sat up when her husband came in.

"I know I need to make a start on dinner and I will in just a minute, I…I just had to come and lie down for a while because I'm really not feeling myself," She explained as he glared at her. "Ciarán, I need to see a doctor."

"So you keep reminding me," He muttered. "All right, if I arrange an appointment for you will you drop this?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean. Drop what?" She asked.

He rolled his eyes. "I mean this daft 'woe is me' act you keep putting on."

"I promise." She nodded, her voice no higher than a whisper.

"Right, then I'll arrange for us to go to the surgery tomorrow if possible." He told her.

"Us?"

"Yes, 'us', I'll be coming with you."

"You don't need to do that, I'll be all right by myself." She shook her head.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're hiding something from me, I can see it in your eyes."

"I'm not, I swear, I just know you won't want to hear what the doctor and I have to talk about." She said.

"And how do you know what I do or do not want to hear about?"

"Ciarán, I'm going to be asking him about my cycle at some point during the consultation."

He made a face. "I'll sit in the waiting room then, but I am still coming with you to the surgery tomorrow."

"Right you are," She replied. "Thank you for agreeing to let me see him."

"Mmm," He made a sound of acknowledgement. "Ten minutes and I expect you downstairs."

Without waiting for a reply, he left the room and she laid down again when he shut the door behind him and she heard him on the staircase. It was a complete lie, of course, the whole thing about her cycle, she wouldn't be speaking to the doctor about that, but it was a necessary lie. If he was in the room with them, how on earth would she be able to talk about the pregnancy and inquire as to whether he could help to ease her symptoms? Luckily, anything she and the doctor conversed about would remain between them and Ciarán never needed to know. She would simply have to fabricate something to tell him when she went back to the waiting room after.

What that would be though, she had no idea as of yet.

Making the most of the unusual peace and quiet she'd been granted, she laid there for a couple more minutes before deciding it was probably time for her to get up and pushing back the covers. She wanted dinner tonight to be a success and for it to go smoothly, so she was making her husband's favourite yet again with the hope it would put him in a decent mood. One thing was for sure though, he would be nice to her when their friends arrived and even though it would be forced she was looking forward to it. He wouldn't snap, he wouldn't pick on her for menial things, he would be respectful to her and he would just give her a break until they both left.

If she got started on cleaning up right away and didn't make comments about the evening, there was a chance he would just go and sit in the lounge and let her get on and then she could go to bed and get some sleep and they wouldn't have a falling out. It was a slim chance, a very slim one indeed, but it was a chance all the same.

Brushing a curl from her face, she left the bedroom and made her way down to the kitchen to make a start on dinner and that was when her husband came wandering into the room in his hat and overcoat. He didn't say a word to her as she brought the meat and vegetables she purchased in town to the kitchen counter, he only put on his gloves and walked straight through the back door to venture into town and get this appointment sorted.

He was far from pleased with her for making him do so, she could tell.

On a Sunday, all he wanted to do was sit in his chair and do nothing and she was "inconveniencing" him.

She truly didn't care at this point though because it was something she needed and she was going to have it.

All that mattered to her now was what was best for her and her baby and if he didn't like it, he could lump it.

And, oh, would he undoubtedly lump it.


"Oh, bless their little hearts." Margaret laughed when Aoibheann was done telling the table about her children.

"A handful, the lot of them, but we wouldn't have it any other way, would we?" Aoibheann turned to Riordan.

"We would not," He agreed. "And what about you two? Planning on giving us all some news at some point?"

Ciarán chuckled, throwing back his scotch. "I don't think so. Children? Not really for me, I'm afraid."

"Margaret?" Riordan turned to her with a raise of an eyebrow. "How about you? Are you wanting any wains?"

Glancing at her husband, she returned the tiny smile he gave her before looking across the table at the man a second time. "You know, whatever happens is going to happen and there isn't much we can truly do about it."

"Is that you giving us a little hint at something?" Riordan smirked.

He was teasing her, there was no doubt in her mind about that, but the second those words left his mouth she failed to see the humour in them and felt sick to her stomach. What was once a relaxed atmosphere was all of a sudden tense and when she risked a glance at her husband she could practically see the gears inside his head turning. He was piecing it together bit by bit, thinking about her feeling under the weather and needing to see the doctor, and there was no doubt in her mind that he was growing more and more suspicious by the second. "No, don't be daft," She blurted out, taking a sip of water. "I've not been myself lately, but I'm getting sorted."

"She would have told me if there was any chance of that anyway," Ciarán brought a hand to her back and she froze, turning her head to look at him again when he ran it slowly along her spine. "Isn't that right, my love?"

"Of course," She made herself rest a hand on his knee beneath the table. "Absolutely right."

A silence fell over the table for a time after that, the four of them continuing to eat their meal and drink their drinks, and once they were done and Riordan had wiped his mouth with his napkin he glanced at his watch. "Well, I appreciate you opening your home to us, but I think we had better be getting home so we can relieve my poor mother," He chuckled. "I fear the wains have driven her up the wall by now and she'll need a break."

"Of course." Ciarán nodded before the four of them rose from their chairs.

Making her way around the table to Aoibheann, Margaret allowed her to wrap her in a warm embrace and just as she was about to pull back again she heard her murmur quietly in her ear, "Your secret's safe with me, pet."

When the embrace broke at last, all she could do was look at her friend and blink back the tears that came to her eyes. "I, uhm, I'll be coming round at about eight on Thursday night to watch the wee ones for you both."

"Sounds perfect," Aoibheann beamed. "We couldn't ask for anyone better, could we, my love?"

"We could not," Riordan agreed, giving Margaret a smile. "Those three love their Aunt Mags."

She smiled at that and clasped her hands together. "Well, you tell them that I love them just as much."

"Will do," He assured her. "Now, we can probably see ourselves out. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." She and Ciarán said in unison.

Until their friends were out the door and they were alone together, neither one of them moved or said a word. Almost as soon as the front door closed though, Ciarán turned to her and she slowly lifted her head to look at him. "I want to believe you," He said quietly, his voice trembling as his gaze never left hers. "So, why don't I?"

"Ciarán, I…"

"Don't you dare promise me anything because I don't want to hear it."

"I was only going to say I don't know where Riordan got the idea from." She told him.

"It makes sense," He growled. "The nausea, the light-headedness, the wanting to see the doctor."

She swallowed. "I don't know anything you don't know, but perhaps I could ask the doctor when I see him."

"I do not want a child in this house, you know that."

"But…but what if it turns out I am pregnant? What then?"

He crossed his arms. "If you are then I suppose we're stuck with the thing. Not much we can do about it."

"Ciarán, that 'thing' would be our baby and you would be his or her father." She told him tearfully.

"Not in my eyes," He shook his head. "I want nothing to do with it. It's going to be your burden, not mine."

"If that's the way you want it to be." She whispered.

"You deal with your own mistakes, you don't drag me into them. Get this place cleaned up. I'm going to bed."

Before she had a chance to say anything else, he left her standing there alone in the kitchen and she set about moving the plates on the table over to the sink ready to be washed in the morning. Stacking them up, a single tear rolled down her cheek and she berated herself for her weakness as she reached up to brush it away. What on earth was she upset about? Him not wanting anything to do with their child was what she said she wanted the other day and she got that wish, so surely she should be greatly relieved and shouting it from the rooftops.

In this moment though, she felt anything but.

In this moment, she was feeling more alone than ever.

Aside from Aoibheann, she was all alone in the world with this innocent little baby depending solely on her.

And she had never, not once in her whole life, been so terrified.


Author's Note: Thank you so much for taking the time to read! I hope you liked this chapter and would love for you to let me know what you thought of it. See you soon!