Author's Note: It's Oliver and Shane's last day in Dublin, and a little more sightseeing is on the agenda. I love their deep connection which continues to grow. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 5

Their last day in Dublin was ushered in on a thick blanket of gray clouds obscuring the sun. A fine mist hung in the air, not enough to pitter-patter like rain but enough to coat everything with a slick sheen. The air was quiet, broken only by the occasional splash of water as a car drove through a curbside puddle. Had it not been for the two remaining sights on their list before leaving Dublin, Oliver, and Shane might have chosen to spend the morning wrapped in the cozy warmth of their bed, watching channels of rain run down their hotel room window.

They strolled at a leisurely pace, fingers laced together, unconcerned with the weather. Shane snuggled into Oliver's side, and they shared a warm, intimate connection, huddled under the protection of the umbrella he held above their heads. From the very beginning, Oliver and Shane had a sixth sense with each other. Their connection had always been strong, but, like many married couples, it ebbed and flowed despite their deep love for each other. This trip was a reminder for them that they needed to prioritize nurturing the small intimacies that would keep their connection strong.

Their steps hurried as they grew closer to their destination. Partially hidden by the edge of their umbrella, they didn't get the full impact of the majesty of Christ Church Cathedral until they were stopped in front of it. The rain stopped, and the clouds broke apart, allowing the sun to reveal itself and cast a warm glow on everything in its path. They stood in front of the awe-inspiring structure built from grey limestone and sandstone. The building's exterior, dulled by the rain, was transformed as the sun emerged. The stone, weathered beautifully over time, held a rich patina that was a testament to its storied history.

Oliver shook out the umbrella and closed it, giving them a full view of the impressive structure. Oliver was overcome by the grandeur of the Gothic architecture which towered over them. He glanced at Shane, whose open mouth and silence told him she was equally awed. An imposing tower and spire rose from the building, soaring higher than any other structure in the area. The juxtaposition of the centuries-old Cathedral with the modern architecture buildings down the street created a unique view. A smile crept across his face. He supposed many thought the same of him and Shane. Him being the relic from the past, and Shane being the epitome of the new and modern. What he saw before him showed that both could coexist in beautiful harmony.

He gave a squeeze to Shane's hand, breaking her from her spell. "Shall we go in, Shane?" She gave a slight nod and followed him.

The entrance brought them to the rear of the Cathedral. Oliver was a few steps behind Shane and saw her reach for him. His fingers closed around her hand, enveloping it with a solid and reassuring grip. He pulled her close, the scent of her perfume wafting around him. "Are you okay, my love?"

She held tightly to his hand. "I'm fine, Oliver. It's just so big and beautiful."

Her voice was barely a whisper. Oliver leaned closer to Shane's ear. "And it got even more beautiful when you walked in the door."

Shane's flawless complexion turned a bright shade of pink at Oliver's compliment. She leaned in to kiss him but stopped herself and backed away.

His eyebrows arched in surprise. His mouth, already anticipating hers, was now left disappointed that the kiss he'd been expecting was not going to come.

"Oliver, we're in church."

Oliver's thumb gently caressed the soft skin on his wife's hand, his touch tender. He matched Shane's hushed tone and leaned in, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. Her hair tickled his nose as he reminded her. "I seem to recall you kissing me in a church last night."

Shane chuckled as her eyes lit up. "Touché, Mr. O'Toole."

His eyes softened as he placed a sweet, gentle, church-appropriate kiss on his wife's forehead.

The nave was divided into three separate areas by imposing stone arches, Gothic in style with their pointed tops. The arches were as functional as they were beautiful. The hand-carved stone also supported the breathtaking vaulted ceilings.

They had yet to walk very far down the aisle when Shane took a seat on one of the chairs that constituted the pews. She patted her hand on the chair next to her. "Come sit with me for a minute," she encouraged Oliver.

Lines formed between Oliver's brows. His lips pressed into a thin line. "Are you tired, Shane?"

"No, no, I just want to sit quietly for a moment and soak it all in." Her hand tightened around his.

Oliver's focus remained on Shane, and he gave in to the irresistible urge to run his finger through the soft, golden waves that wreathed her face, tucking a stray lock behind her ear.

Shane leaned into his touch, then whispered in her husband's ear, "Thank you, Oliver."

A shiver ran down his spine as her warm breath danced across his ear. Shifting his gaze, he met his wife's eyes. His pulse quickened when he saw her eyes glistening. "For what, my love?"

"Thank you for guiding me back to my faith and being incredibly patient with me as I continue my journey." A tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away.

Oliver's mouth curled up slowly, and his eyes brightened. He lifted her hand and rubbed his thumb over the smooth stone of her engagement ring. "From the very beginning, I knew you had faith. I never doubted it." He held her eyes captive with his intensity. "You just needed to find it again."

"You did know, didn't you?" The memory of Oliver's words to her as they awaited Charlie's release hung between them. She brought her hand to cradle his cheek. "I'm glad you knew it because I certainly did not. I was so bitter when I first came to the DLO." She lowered her head.

Oliver lifted her chin, bringing her gaze back to his. "Well, often someone from the outside sees things that you can't when you're in the thick of it."

"It took me a long time to come around, but when you and your dad were lost in Eldorado Canyon, and Sandy appeared just at the right time, well, that was a miracle I couldn't deny."

"Yes, that timing was perfect, wasn't it?" He would never forget the fear he felt as he and his dad were lost, with no idea if anyone was looking for them or if they would ever get home.

"Remember when you found me in the chapel?" She bit her lip, just as she did that night.

He did what he wanted to that night and reached up, freeing her lip and tenderly caressing it with his thumb. "It is etched into my memory, forever." His lips brushed against Shane's forehead.

They lingered a few more minutes, as they had that night after Oliver declared his hope for their relationship. Shane's head rested on his shoulder, his hand holding hers against his heart. He felt the sting of tears in his eyes, so overwhelmed by emotion that he could scarcely catch his breath. He closed his eyes, offering up a quick prayer of thanks for the honor of sharing in Shane's return to faith.

They rose and walked down the center aisle, created from richly colored tiles curved and worn by years of parishioners' and visitors' steps. And yet, the intricately laid-out geometric patterns that formed the stunning mosaic art were as breathtaking as Oliver imagined them to be when they were first laid in the nineteenth century during the Cathedral's extensive renovation.

Their eyes were drawn upward as the sun that had broken through the clouds earlier now filtered through the stained glass windows. The vibrant reds, blues, yellows, and greens blended, no longer confined by the lead strips that outlined them in the window. The melting pot of colors bounced off the light color of the polished stone arches. Oliver kept his hand firmly around Shane's, observing her as she occasionally looked down at the phone in her other hand, no doubt reading something about the Cathedral on Wiki-whatever.

"Find anything interesting?"

"Did you know this is the oldest building in Dublin? A Viking king built it back in the eleventh century."

"Yes, but I think I read it was rebuilt at some point."

"Yes, in the nineteenth century. Look at the ceilings, Oliver."

They craned their necks in search of a better view of the awe-inspiring ceiling, again built in the Gothic style. "Those arches are carved out of stone. I can't even imagine what it took to build them."

A partition in the design of gothic arches, carved from stone and wood, separated the congregational seating and the area designated for the choir and altar. Elaborately carved wooden stalls, positioned to face the aisles, were assigned explicitly for the choir's use. "Quite a bit different than the choir seating at our church, isn't it, Oliver?"

Oliver's face lit up. "I like hearing you say that."

"Saying what?"

"Our church."

Shane looped her arm through Oliver's. "Me, too."

They stopped to admire the altar but found the walls surrounding it even more fascinating. From floor to ceiling, a grid-like floral pattern carved from the same stone used for the arches ran.

Shane continued scrolling her phone screen. "Oliver. Listen to this. They have the heart of, you won't believe it, Sir Laurence O'Toole here in the Cathedral."

Oliver's eyes lit up at hearing the name O'Toole, but his mouth twisted, and eyes narrowed when he realized the context. "Just his heart?"

Shane referred to her phone. "Yes, he was the Abbott of Glendalough when he was twenty-six and then Archbishop of Dublin when he was thirty-two. Oooo, I wonder if you're related to him."

"I don't know. I suppose anything is possible."

They found the O'Toole heart encased in a bronze reliquary and locked inside a heavy iron cage.

Their expressions mirrored each other. Heads were tilted, and rows of creases stretched across their foreheads. "Rather anticlimactic, isn't it?" Oliver finally said.

Shane snickered. "Yes, it is. And creepy, too." She continued reading from her phone. "The heart was stolen in 2012."

"Who would want to steal the heart of a thirteenth-century Archbishop?" Oliver wondered.

"They don't know, but it was returned in 2018. Apparently, the thieves believed it was cursed after several people close to them died of heart attacks."

"Hmpf, I am not a believer in curses any more than I am luck." Oliver grabbed Shane's hand. "Anyway, I think I've seen enough of the O'Toole heart."

As they stepped outside, they stumbled upon a stunning prayer labyrinth constructed from stone identical to the exterior of the building. Its winding circular path was set within a geometric pattern that had a series of symbols to guide visitors as they prayed and contemplated.

Shane asked Oliver to go first. With each step, waves of peace washed over him, and his prayers came effortlessly. His thoughts were centered on Shane, their bond as husband and wife, and the precious life she had growing within her. He prayed that they would be good parents, for unwavering faith, and for the ability to nurture their child with love and guidance.

When he finished the experience, he waited for Shane, who was moving at a much slower pace. He saw her digging in her purse for a tissue and felt rather helpless, watching her wipe her eyes.

As she completed the labyrinth, Oliver rushed to her, handing her his handkerchief. "Are you okay, my love?" Oliver's voice was tinged with concern. He searched her eyes for any hint of what had upset her.

"I'm fine, Oliver. I wasn't expecting to feel so emotional," she dabbed at her eyes.

Oliver pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. "We have a number of responsibilities all coming together at once. I find it overwhelming at times, too." Oliver kept her in his embrace until he felt her relax. "Would you prefer to go back to the hotel?"

Shane tightened her hold on Oliver. "That is certainly a compelling alternative, darling, but we still want to go to St. Patrick's, don't we?"

"Yes, it's not far from here, and it's on the way back to the hotel."

Oliver was right. St. Patrick's Cathedral was a short walk from Christ Church. Constructed during the same era as Christ Church, the building bore a noticeable resemblance in style, yet it featured several additional spires that extended towards the heavens. Like its counterpart, it showcased Gothic architecture, a stone exterior, and a commanding bell tower.

Their visit to St. Patrick's Cathedral was abbreviated. Shane had yawned several times, and Oliver had caught her eyes closing repeatedly. He wanted to get her back to the hotel for a nap before dinner.

Their suite had been meticulously cleaned, with fresh sheets and fluffed pillows on the bed. As soon as the door clicked shut, Oliver brought Shane into his arms and kissed her as he'd wanted to do since they'd left their room earlier in the day.

Shane's arms wrapped around Oliver's waist, hugging him. "Thank you, Oliver, for another wonderful day. I could get used to this. Sleeping in, enjoying leisurely breakfasts, playing tourist, and returning to a spotless room every day makes for a wonderful holiday."

Oliver found her lips, his kiss filled with tenderness. "I agree, Mrs. O'Toole, but right now, you need a nap. I've made reservations for dinner tonight at a restaurant that comes highly recommended."

Shane's brow arched. "Really? And where might we be going?"

"That is for me to know and you to be curious about. Now go get some rest."

Shane's eyes sparkled as she coyly ran her hand up the front of Oliver's jacket, her flirtations proving to be quite distracting. "Are you joining me?"

He answered her question with his lips, exhilaration replacing fatigue. "That is a most alluring offer, my love, but no, I will not be joining you. You need to sleep, and I believe my joining you would hinder your ability to do so."

Oliver couldn't miss the disappointment as her lips curled downward and her shoulders slumped. "You do make a good point, Mr. O'Toole." She dutifully complied as he turned her around and pushed her toward the bedroom.

A couple of hours later, Oliver, out in the living room of their suite, heard repeated grunts and groans coming from the bedroom. Giving a couple of short raps on the doorframe, he leaned his head in. "Is everything okay in here?" He opened the door and found Shane standing before the mirror, red-faced and tears threatening.

"No, Oliver. It's not." Her frustration-laced voice cried. "I wanted to wear this dress for dinner tonight, and it won't zip. I thought I could wear it one more time before my belly got too big."

His breath caught deep in his throat when he saw she was in the same sapphire blue dress she'd worn during their dance in the DLO.

Oliver swiftly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in one smooth motion. She rested her head on his chest, blowing out her irritation. "I'm sorry, Oliver. I don't want to ruin our evening before it's even started."

"I can't imagine you ruining anything, Mrs. O'Toole." Oliver's voice had its intended effect, and he felt her tension melt away. Without heels, Shane's head came just to Oliver's shoulder. The scent of her hair, blended with the hint of rose in her perfume, made him momentarily forget their dinner plans. He felt her shiver under his touch as his finger delicately traced a path down the creamy skin of her exposed back.

Shane lifted her head and met Oliver's teasing eyes. "Mr. O'Toole, are you trying to tempt me?"

A rumbling chuckle came from within him. "If I was, I don't think I would need to try very hard." His eyes turned the same dark blue as his navy jacket.

Shane stepped back, her eyes moving from the top of his head all the way down his body. Oliver was impeccably dressed in grey slacks, a crisp white button-down shirt, and a well-fitted navy jacket. "You do look rather dashing tonight, darling." Shane traced Oliver's jawline with her finger, then dipped it into the gap where his shirt buttons were undone, sending his heart rate skyrocketing. "If I wasn't so hungry, I might test your theory." She turned her back to him. "So, would you please see if you can get this zipper up?"

Oliver kept wisely silent as he tugged at the zipper. Maybe it was his angle, but after a couple of tugs, he managed to get it up. Shane spun around and gave him the same suggestive look she did that night so long ago. His eyes brightened, and his breath came out in a loud exhale as he locked eyes with Shane.

"I have no words, Shane. You are as beautiful tonight as the night we danced in the DLO. I was so close to kissing you, but I took the coward's way out and left you standing alone. He tugged her to him. "It seems I have been given a second chance to kiss you in this dress, and I do not intend to waste it." He attempted to temper their kiss, knowing how easy it would be for him to get swept away in his desires.

His attempt was futile as Shane brought her hand around Oliver's head, her fingers twirling the tuft of hair at the back of his neck. Oliver wove his fingers through the silky strands of her hair. Their embrace intensified as their lips met, igniting an intense and fiery passion between them. A loud rumbling, coming from the direction of Shane's stomach, quickly doused their heated exchange, and Oliver, unable to contain his amusement, let out a laugh. Shane smiled sheepishly as she backed away. "Well, I did tell you I was hungry."

Oliver watched Shane's eyes sparkle as she entered Fire Restaurant on his arm. He did love surprising her. The cab driver had given them a brief history lesson as he drove them to the Mansion House, which still served as the residence of the Lord Mayor of Dublin after more than 300 years. The restaurant was located in what was once the Lord's supper room.

As they stepped inside, Oliver offered his arm to Shane. Soft strains of soothing jazz and the soft, romantic glow of lights set the perfect mood for the lovely dinner Oliver had planned. The high vaulted ceilings gave a feeling of grandeur, while luxurious velvet curtains suspended from the ceiling created cozy, intimate spaces. Each table was its own private, romantic haven.

"How did you find this place, Oliver?" Shane, still soaking in every detail of the space, even after they'd taken their seats.

Oliver's eyes twinkled. "I may have had a little help from the concierge at the hotel," he admitted. They studied the menu, Oliver selecting prime rib and Shane deciding on scallops.

Oliver stretched out his hand across the table. A frisson of electricity sparked as Shane placed her delicate hand in his. He leaned in, unabashed admiration in his eyes.

"Well, Oliver, you've certainly outdone yourself. Is it just me, or does this place remind you a bit of Montaldo's?"

"There are certainly similarities, though I'm disappointed that there's no dance floor."

Shane's thumb drew small circles on Oliver's hand. "That's okay. We can always dance later." Her eyelashes fluttered as she flirted with him across the table.

"I think that's an excellent compromise, Shane." His eyes locked with hers in a penetrating gaze.

"Oliver, do you remember our first date?"

Oliver felt the heat rise in his cheeks. "Ahem, not my finest hours, "

Shane gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "No, no, no, that's not why I brought it up. Do you ever wonder what would have happened had it not taken such a...turn?"

"How do you mean?"

"Had it gone better, would we have become a 'thing' sooner?"

Oliver leaned in. "That is a very thought-provoking question."

Shane's eyes danced as her melodic laughter escaped her lips. "Remember when you suggested that I plant a dead animal under my rosebush?"

Oliver couldn't help but drop his head as soft laughter bubbled from his chest. "I suppose I should be thankful that you gave me a second chance after that."

Her eyes were tender. "It probably didn't help that I told you I'd been there before with Lester and Steve."

Even now, a shadow clouded Oliver's face at the thought of Shane being anywhere with Steve. And, considering how he'd taken her away from him for a time, he felt justified in those feelings.

Shane must have been reading his mind. "Oliver, I'm sorry I ever brought Steve into the conversation that night. I thought I was making it clear that he was no longer in the picture." She grasped his hand firmly. "Oliver, the truth is, I'd been in love with you for such a long time. I wasn't going to give up, but it was obvious that you needed more time." She spun his wedding ring around his finger. "I would have waited forever for you, Oliver."

Oliver's heart pounded with such force he thought it might beat out of his chest. He looked deeply into Shane's eyes, knowing that she spoke the truth. It had been the same for him. It just took him longer to break free from the pain of the past.

"You were so beautiful that night in your pink satin dress. You wore your hair up, showing off the curve of your neck." His lips gently lifted into a smile. "I remember sitting there, wondering what it would feel like to kiss it. It seems rather foolish now that I couldn't admit my feelings for you."

Shane covered his hand. "Oliver, it wasn't foolish. There was a lot for both of us to work through. Besides, what do you always say?"

"Trust the timing," they said in unison.

Oliver gently lifted Shane's hand to his lips and placed a tender, affectionate kiss on it. "Earlier today, you thanked me for being patient with you. Now it's my turn to thank you for being patient with me, so thank you."

The flicker of the candle's flame danced in Shane's gleaming eyes. "Oliver, if we had to go back and do this all again, I'm not sure I would change a thing."

Oliver's eyebrow arched. "I can think of a couple of things, but you're correct. We had a lot to work through, and every experience brought us to where we are today. And now, I will spend the rest of my days cherishing you and what we have together."

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "Thank you, Oliver. I love us."

They arrived back at their hotel, and once the door was closed and locked, Shane quickly pulled up her music. Oliver's fingers ran down her bare arms, and he grasped her hands as the strains of And So It Goes filled the air. There wasn't enough room for them to do their dance, so they held each other closely, swaying back and forth, their hearts beating in unison. As the song came to an end, he lifted Shane's face with his finger. "I love you, Shane."

"I love you too, Oliver."

Their faces were so close, their breaths mingling in the space between them. Tenderly, Oliver pressed his lips against Shane's, igniting a spark that quickly grew into a passionate and urgent connection. The kiss was filled with longing and desire, leaving them both breathless and lost in the moment as they stood with their foreheads gently touching and steadying their breaths.

Oliver completed his evening ablutions, anxious to continue what they'd begun following their dancing. What he found when he stepped into the bedroom was his beautiful wife, sound asleep, her hair splashed across her pillow like feathers. A rush of warmth and tenderness quickly replaced any disappointment he felt. A less confident man might be concerned if his wife had fallen asleep before he could join her, but he was no longer the man he'd been before Shane. Crawling into bed, he was careful not to disturb her. He turned onto his side and gently rested his hand on her stomach. With a silent prayer of thanksgiving, he drifted off to sleep, his hand still cradling her and their baby.

Author's note: I can't tell you how surprised I was to find that Christ Church Cathedral is really the final resting spot for the heart of Saint Laurence O'Toole. When I read that during my research for this chapter, I knew I had to include it. And, I agree with Shane, it is a little creepy!