The Red Dress

April 23rd

Keira Delaney will be the death of me. I can feel it; I've known since day one that she was dangerous, a hazard to my health, but it's only now that I'm sitting shotgun in the car as she drives through the not-so-mean streets of the quiet Irish countryside that I've come to the conclusion that she will be the one that kills me. 

To be honest, a car accident at twenty-four wasn't the way I foresaw it all going down but who doesn't like a surprise in life, huh? 

Slamming on the brakes of the car, Keira swears in Gaelic as I jolt forward, thankful that I'm wearing my seatbelt. I'd have become part of the dashboard otherwise. Slowly moving to sit upright, I turn and glare at my girlfriend of six years, wondering if she's deliberately driving like a lunatic. See, there's a reason that I do most of the driving but tonight, she insisted on getting behind the wheel, saying that we're in her country now and she knows the laws of the road better. I call bullshit on that. She doesn't know any laws of the road, regardless of country. I'm so close to calling the Garda on her just so they can revoke her license.

Then again, this is Keira we're talking about- she'll intimidate the cops into letting her keep it. 

"Fucking sheep," Keira mutters, moving her hand to honk the horn. I manage to reach over and stop her in time, telling her that she shouldn't spook the animals like that. "They're a hazard, Logan. They're lucky I didn't run them over and make stew out of them."

Rolling my eyes, I lean back in my seat, grateful that we're stationary so that my stomach can stop rolling around and the nauseousness I'm feeling dies down. It's late April and we're in County Mayo, Ireland, heading out for dinner having been at Keira's grandparents' country house for the past week. It was a miracle that she and I managed to get time off together since her studies took up a lot of her time. Since graduating, she's been undertaking a Masters in Linguistics and that comes first in most instances. 

Meanwhile, I have an amazing boss who supports me in everything I do and when I asked for a week off, she turned to me and said, "About time you took a break." Honestly, I'd hate to work for anyone but Lyanna Taylor. 

In typical fashion, the weather tonight was awful. Every time I've come to Ireland, it's been gloomy. When I lived in Dublin for two years, it wasn't any better. It's like this country only has one season: rain. Being April, too, meant that it darkened earlier than in the summer months and the inky sky outside was proof that it was late evening and we should probably head back to the house. At this rate, we weren't making it to the restaurant I'd picked out for us. 

"I'm going to go move them along," Keira muttered, unbuckling her belt and opening the door. 

"Keira, don't," I warn her, the sternness in my voice making her rethink her actions. "I swear to God, if you get out of this car, I'll jump into the driver's seat, reverse, do a u-turn and I'll leave you stranded out here all night with the sheep."

She stares at me, trying to suss out if I was really threatening her or just making her think that I was threatening her. After a minute of silence, she shuts the door and sighs. "I hate you."

"I can live with that," I tell her, knowing how much it annoys her when I'm immune to her sarcasm. In all the years we've been together, I've come to learn to just roll with whatever comes out of her mouth. Looking out the window and up at the sky, I sigh in resignation. "This rain doesn't look like it's going to stop so it's probably better if we just go back to the house."

An outburst of Gaelic comes from the driver's seat, words that I don't understand, but from the delivery, I was guessing that Keira wasn't whispering sweet nothings at me. She has a fierce temper which I find endearing in a way; Keira isn't a pushover which is one of her many qualities I love because she's never afraid of putting me in my place. When we met, I was a bit of an asshole, a guy with a reputation for breaking the rules and leaving a trail of destruction in my path. Mom used to joke about it and call me Hurricane but since being with Keira, I've been tamed. Or perhaps 'tamed' isn't the right word to use here. 'Outdone', is maybe a better word to use. Keira Delaney made me look like a saint in comparison. 

We've both mellowed over the years, as well, having grown up from being the reckless, irresponsible teens we were. Everyone thought we were crazy for moving to London together, saying that we'd live to regret it. I think my family believed that it would all end in tears while her family thought it'd end with one of us in prison for killing the other. Both would be regretful scenarios. 

However, we proved them all wrong. Not only did we excel in college, we both graduated at the top of our respective class, myself in architecture and Keira in English and Linguistics. Since I already had a job to walk into, Keira and I decided to buy an apartment together and six months later, we adopted a cute little puppy together. He's called Tripod for the very simple reason that he only has three legs. We adore him. Keira got a job at a magazine- her cousin, Sophie, pulled a few strings- but last summer, she decided that she wanted to go back to do her Masters. It was a world away from her plan to become a teacher a few years ago; after a brief placement at a local school, Keira announced that teaching a bunch of ungrateful kids was not a profession her personality was fond of. Her fear of calling a kid 'dickhead' was enough to get her to reconsider teaching. 

Our life together was perfect and but recently, I've felt that there's something missing. For a few years, I tried to figure out what it was but it wasn't until Keira's friend, Nina Taylor, became engaged last summer that it clicked. 

What's missing from our relationship is this: a marriage.