Page 73 of The Irish Goodbye

Then her stomach growled.

“Oh,” she said, embarrassed and Niall chuckled against her neck.

“Shall I make us some breakfast?” he asked.

“Yes please!” she said eagerly. He got up and got her a towel from the bathroom, then threw on his underwear and jeans and headed into the kitchen. The day was cloudy but the sun peeked through in some spots. Niall had no idea what time it was. He had no idea what day it was. He thought he could live in this cottage forever, surviving on nothing but Cordelia.

He opened the fridge and gasped. “What the fuck …”

Cordelia came into the kitchen wearing a pair of striped sleep shorts and a hooded sweatshirt, her hair tied up in a messy bun. Only the sight of her loveliness could distract him, however briefly, from such horrors.

“Cordie,” he said, “what is this?”

She beamed. “You’ve never called me Cordie before.” She looked from him to the open fridge and her face fell. “Oh.”

“I thought Róisín was exaggerating,” Niall said. Inside the fridge there was a solitary apple, three different kinds of cheese, and two Mars bars.

“I told you I don’t know how to cook,” she said, coming up to wrap her arms around his waist.

“You do know how to eat, though, right?” Niall said.

“I go to O’Connor’s for that,” she insisted.

“Okay,” he said, closing the fridge door. “We’re going to the market today. Cooking isn’t rocket science. I can show you some really easy things to make.”

“All right,” she said happily, leaning up to peck him on the lips and then prancing off into the living room. “I hope nobody was upset we sort of disappeared from the party last night.”

“It’s called an Irish goodbye,” Niall said, pouring coffee grounds into the French press and putting water on to boil. “I promise you, no one was surprised. Bet you’ll be getting some sass from Róisín today, though. So will I, come to think of it.” There was silence from the living room. “Cordelia?” Niall called. “You okay?”

More silence. Niall hurried out of the kitchen and found Cordelia in the middle of the room, her purse hanging limp from one hand, her phone clutched in the other, a blank look on her face.

“What?” he asked, coming to her side. “What’s happened?”

“Liz texted me last night,” she said, bewildered. Niall leaned over to see a string of texts growing more frantic.

Cordelia!!!!

CHECK YOUR INSTA

NOW

Hello??? Girl that pic is blowing UP

People are loving it!! You need to post more. Right now. ASAP.

Hi are you alive answer me please.

“Did you check it?” Niall said. Cordelia shook her head. She blinked up at him. He smiled softly and kissed her temple. “Go on then.”

She sent a quick text to Liz saying Sorry, I’m alive, checking now! Then she switched over to the app. Niall took note of her handle—@cordjamesshoots—and then found himself staring at the picture of him at the Black Fort. By the little heart in the left-hand corner was a number—20.3K.

“Holy shit,” he said. “That’s quite good, isn’t it?”

Cordelia was staring at the number with a look of shock or horror, he couldn’t tell.

“Cord?” he said. “It’s good, right?”

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “It’s so many,” she said. “I’ve never … all these people like my photo? Niall!” She flung her arms around him. “Oh my god. Oh my god!”