Lucky This Isn't Real: MacBride Brothers Series St. Patrick's Day Fake Fiance Romance by Jamie Knight (digital e reader .TXT) 📕

“What’s up with you, sad sack?”

“Nothing,” Eoin lied, wiping his eyes.

“Denial is a river in Egypt. Spill.”

He stared up at the ceiling.

“Da fell off the wagon again. It’s not like before— or at least not yet, anyway, but I know it will be. It’s less obvious so far.”

I scrubbed a hand over my face and sank onto the sofa.

“Shit. Have you seen him do it or how did you find out?”

“No, I don’t have to. I can tell by the way he’s been acting. I stopped by the sober living place to see him. His eyes were rolling, and he smelled like whiskey. He must have a stash somewhere. I think he might be back on junk, too.”

I blew out a breath and clasped my hands.

“No, I don’t think so. Not after last time, when he nearly died. I could see him drinking again, but there’s no way he would start shooting up again. He has too strong a sense of self-preservation.” I sighed. “We’ll let the director of the facility know your suspicions. There is nothing you can do about it in any case. He has to want to change for it to work, and there is really only one way that’s going to happen.”

“What’s that?”

“We have to wash our hands of him. Tell him from here on out he’s on his own.”

Eoin reared back like I’d threatened to stab him.

“No one cares; no one but me,” he said, “and I can’t even figure out why. Are you angry about what he used to be like? You and Jim are always so busy with work, you didn’t even notice he was sick again.”

It was almost cute, how dedicated he was, except that more than that, it was sad. He clearly had yet to realize that dad was just the way he was and would repeat the same cycle over and over again.

We had all seen it before and had had more time to deal with it than Eoin had. Even Jim, who was only a couple of years older than Eoin, had realized there was nothing we could do.

I didn’t want dad to die, either. The difference was, I knew there was nothing to be done about it, and I was no longer convinced that dad himself could break the cycle.

I really did believe it when he said he wanted to get clean. But that wasn’t enough to make it happen. In some ways, he was his own worst enemy.

“I know it sucks, Eoin, but he’s the only one who can help himself,” I repeated. “We all just have to do what we’re going to do. I don’t want dad to die either, but there’s not much to be done.”

Eoin never ceased to surprise me. That instance was no exception. My little brother, who was actually taller than me, hugged me and started to sob again.

On the upside, I think he might have finally been struck by the reality of the situation, and, as I’d feared, it hurt. Still, better sooner than even later.

“When he gets here with Jim, I’ll keep an eye on him. If he’s drinking again, he won’t be able to hide it from Gavin or me. We know the signs.”

Eoin nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t convinced.

His accusation did stick with me, though. Maybe I did work so much to escape the possible heartache.

Reality can’t get to you if you ignore it, right?

Alas, I was a bit too old to honestly believe that anymore. I’d missed the signs of our dad’s relapse and let an emergency at work pull me away from Darcy just as we were getting started. Even though work was far from the worst vice in the world, my priorities were going to need some serious review.

It was a bit tight, but we managed to make another place at the table for Maggie, who had been welcomed with open arms. Of course, my brothers and I had already met her, but that didn’t mean they had to like her. Luckily, we all did, and Aunt Tricia loved her like a daughter.

As for Dad— he was definitely on the sauce again, though it wasn’t quite so obvious of a downward spiral. Either his tolerance had gone up, or he had learned to drink in something resembling moderation. There was a lot to be said for small improvements. Particularly when they grew and accumulated into a big change.

I didn’t hold out too much hope. But an eventual recovery to some extent did seem a little more possible than before.

“So, what do you think of Belfast?” Aunt Tricia asked Darcy when the prayers were said, and the bread was broken.

“It’s beautiful. I love it here! Sean drove us out to Dunluce Castle this afternoon. It was even better than I’d imagined. I mean, I’d seen footage on PBS and stuff, but it was nothing like the real thing.”

“Funny, I’m starting to feel the same way about L.A.,” I said. “When I get more time off work, I’d like to go back to visit and see more of it.”

“See more of Darcy, you mean,” Gavin said, with a cheeky wink.

“Who’s this then?” Aunt Tricia asked, going into mama bear mode.

“My best friend Darcy,” Maggie said in a distinctly teasing tone. “She’s as starry-eyed as Sean.”

There was a flurry of hoots and whistles around the table, with even Dad and Eoin joining in the fun.

“Oh, good, another American sister-in-law,” Patrick said, the sarcasm dripping from his words.

“I’m not sure if we can make a tenth place at the table. I might have to get the leaf out,” Aunt Tricia said.

“Or we could set up a kiddie table for Jim and Eoin,” Gavin suggested.

“Fuck off, Gav,” Eoin