My purpose is right in front of me.

Padraig.

I’m already up on my feet.

“Valerie,” he says to me in his Irish brogue, so much hope and longing on his brow.

All he had to do was say my name and I was his again.

My chin trembles and I burst into tears.

He pulls me into his big arms, wrapping them around me, holding me tight, so tight.

I sob into his coat, breathing in the smell of him, feeling my heart lift and lift and lift, right up into the sky, soaring away like a bird.

“I am so sorry,” he whispers, pressing his lips into the top of my head and now I hear him crying too. “I am so, so sorry.”

I hug him tighter, afraid that this is a dream that I can wake up from at any second, afraid that he’s not really here at all.

So I stand there holding him and he holds me and the rest of the world does its thing whenever the two of us are together.

It just dissolves.

Until it’s just us.

Eventually, though, the world comes into focus and I realize we’ve been hugging in the corner of this coffee shop in Philly and I’m not even sure how that’s actually possible, that he’s here.

I pull back and peer up at him, not letting go.

He gazes down at me through his long, wet lashes, tears at the corner of his eyes.

“Are you really here?” I ask.

“I am.”

“How?”

“I’ve come back for ye, Valerie,” he says, his voice a low murmur. He pauses. “If you’ll have me back.”

He’s come back for me.

“What changed?”

He gives me a small smile and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Everything changed. Every single thing. I realized how horrible I’d been. Made the biggest mistake of my life by telling you to leave. And I understand if you want nothing to do with me. I won’t blame ye, not even a little. But … if I could somehow convince you to hold my heart again, it would mean the world, darlin’.”

“I’ve had your heart this whole time,” I tell him. “I held it with my own. I just didn’t know for how long. If I’d ever see you again …”

He winces. “I did an awful thing. I said things I didn’t mean. And I really didn’t mean them, you must understand that. I won’t blame my condition because it sounds like an excuse and I’m tired of excuses. I’ll own up to it. I’ll own it full so that I never make a mistake like that again.”

“It’s okay.”

“It isn’t. It isn’t okay what I did.” He shakes his heading, looking pained. “You don’t do that to someone ye love, especially not to you. You’re so special, my darlin’, ye don’t even understand. I think I already loved you the moment I first saw ye, even if it took me a bit to catch on.”

He pauses. “But that love … well, that love became infinite when you saw the darkest parts of me, like that sky above Shambles at night. Remember how deep and fathomless that was? Dark and cold. And instead of running away, you ran toward me. You threw yourself into my darkness and you showed me the stars that I never knew were there. You were never afraid of what was in me, you wanted to see it all, you wanted to be there for me in every way that you could.”

Another tear rolls down my cheek and he puts his hand against my face, wiping the tear away with the gentle caress of his thumb. “And that’s when the fear hit me,” he says. “That I could lose you, lose this, forever. I was so afraid that I pretty much cut off my nose to spite my face. I thought that maybe you wanted to leave, I thought maybe you would eventually. I was so bloody selfish, as I usually am, and I wanted to save myself. But it didn’t save me at all. You’re the only one who can do that. Without you, I’m drowning in that darkness, darlin’.”

I know Padraig means what he says. I know it because I know him. And I know the man in that hospital, that scared lonely boy who was scarred from loss, I know that wasn’t him. I just didn’t know when the real Padraig would ever come around. There was a chance I could have lost him to that darkness, just like he said.

And yet though he says I’m the one that saved him, he’s here, now. He’s the one standing in front of me.

“You’re the one who saved yourself,” I tell him softly. “And don’t you ever forget that. You’re so much stronger than you know, Padraig. You have that darkness within you, but we all do. You’re already one step ahead of the game by battling it, by refusing to let it win.” I take his hand and place it on my heart. “You’ve won. And you’ve won me.”

A shaky smile comes across his lips. “You’ll have me back?”

“I never even left.”

That smile breaks into a grin. He leans down and kisses me. He kisses me like it’s our first kiss and our last kiss all at once. It’s a kiss that makes my toes curl in my boots and my stomach do belly flops. It’s a kiss that makes someone in the coffee shop mutter, “Jeez, get a room.”

We break apart and we laugh, dizzy and intoxicated by each other.

“Want to go for a walk?” Padraig asks me, gesturing to the door. “I’ve never been to Philly before. Maybe you could be my tour guide. We could get lunch. I’m fucking starving.”

“I’d love that,” I tell him as he grabs my hand. “But I’m supposed to meet my sisters here … I’m guessing you already knew that.”

“They’re not coming until tomorrow,” he says, holding out my coat for me as I slip it on.

“So how did all of this happen?”

“Well, after my nan beat me with the wooden spoon, I got to thinking that I needed to go to ye. I needed to find ye and bring ye back and if you didn’t want to come back, then I’d stay with you and if you didn’t want that either well, at least I was fighting for it.”

“The fighting Irish,” I say as he leads me out of the coffee shop and we start walking down the street, heading toward the Liberty Bell.

“That’s the stuff. Anyway, I had your sisters’ numbers in case of an emergency so I contacted Angie because she seemed like the sensible one—”

“This is true.”

“And then she called me back and yelled at me for an hour, so I quickly regretted sending that text.”

I laugh. “So then I’m guessing you contacted Sandra.”

“Yea, she was less yelly over all. And she had this idea for you to come here and they would do a bait and switch. Said you probably wouldn’t want to see me if you knew.”

“But my mom this morning …”

“She knew too. I already spoke to her on the phone.”

I stop dead in my tracks. “You spoke to her on the phone??”

“I did. Seems like a nice lady. She talked to me for an hour, too.”

“And did she yell at you?”

“No, she just talked about herself and all the issues she’s working through. I’m not sure what went down over this last week but whatever it is, it sounds like progress.”

“Speaking of progress, how are you?” I ask him as we start walking again. Though his gait is even and steady (unlike mine), I’ve noticed his hands have a bit of a tremor to them and there’s this tic along his jaw, though that could be from stress or jetlag.

“I’m okay,” he admits. “I knew the flight would be rough but I got through it with a lot of melatonin. My vision is fine, like nothing happened, though I do get this blurriness at the corners when I’m tired. And I’m tired all the time. That’s the worst part. The fatigue.”

“Should we stop and rest?” I gesture to a park bench.

He shakes his head. “Nah. I feel better already. It’s probably because I’m with you. You’re the pulse of my heart, Valerie. A tonic to my soul.”

He stops and pulls me to the side of the sidewalk, placing his arms around my waist and pressing me again him. “You’re everything to me.”

And I’m happy. I’m just so fucking happy with this beautiful world of mine.

“Tell me you love me,” I whisper. “Tell me you love me, and I’ll tell you I love you more.”

“I love you, Valerie,” he says softly, his eyes pining me in place, making me feel his words to my very soul, where they grow and grow, like flowers on a vine, wrapping around me, making me feel beautiful.

“And I love you more.”

Padraig ends up staying with us for a week.

Right here in my parents’ house.

Squeezed on my old twin bed.

It actually goes pretty amazing, considering everything that happened and how everyone’s relationship seems to be in the middle of being repaired. There was no awkwardness or strained conversations, no faking a smile.

My sisters were there for the weekend, like they promised. We did more of the fun touristy stuff together and even took the train to New York City for the day. Sandra did her best to bug him and be inappropriate, while Angie grilled him until it was almost a sport for her.

But in the end Sandra pulled me aside and said, “If you don’t keep him, I will.” And then Angie pulled me aside and told me she approved and he had groveled enough and if I didn’t head back to Shambles with him soon I was an idiot.

Well, I’m not an idiot.

Or an eejit, either.

The minute I saw Padraig in that coffee shop, I knew that I was going back with him. I had been so deeply hurt by what he did but I also understood why he did it. I know he wasn’t himself and I know it’s still going to be a rough road ahead of us at times, but as Padraig says, may the wind always be at our backs.

“Bye sweetie!” my mother says to me as they drop us off at the airport, bringing me into one last hug while Padraig brings my suitcases out of the car and to the curb. “Remember to call!” she yells in my ear.

“I hear Ireland is real pretty in the summer,” my dad says, hugging me next. “Might be a good time for a visit, wouldn’t you say?”