Meant To Be

Chapter one - Magilligan, Co Derry, Northern Ireland

"I'm so sorry Ronnie."

Ronnie stared at Patrick thinking about how much of a rush she'd been in to buy that navy shirt last Christmas Eve on her lunch break. She didn't even check the size; tucked the receipt away with more kindness than the shirt. It'll be grand she had told herself. "It'll be grand," mumbled Ronnie, glancing at the sports bag sitting by Patrick's feet. The zip swollen.

"Would ye talk to me properly Ronnie. Please."

Ronnie's eyes brushed up Patrick's body. His arms useless by his side. Face fallen. She wondered why he was looking so sad for. "I need to get to bed." Ronnie's feet shuffled across the kitchen floor. She couldn't remember when she'd taken her crocs off. If she done it as soon as she came in the door. Where she'd put them. "I have to work the night again." She thought she should find them now. To save the hassle later on.

Patrick cursed as she passed by him. Right before he said her name. "Your marriage is over and all you can think about is work?" He shook his head and spat a chorus of bitter laughter that struggled to float. "I dunno why I'm even surprised for."

Ronnie looked at her feet dressed in navy socks to match her crocs. She was almost past the invisible line that marked the living area. A big open space with more windows than walls. She could see the River Foyle and was still unsure about what direction it ran in even though Patrick had told her numerous times before. She thought about asking him again, remembering Derry was to the left. That work was to the left. "If it wasn't for my work you wouldn't a been able to have an affair in the first place. I didn't think ye had it in ye, but," Ronnie shrugged, like laziness was hanging off her. "There ye go."

"Why are you acting like this for?"

Ronnie's eyebrows pressed into the centre, deepening the thin line between them that was more to the left than right. "I'm tired. My head hurts because I'm so tired. My husband is leaving me. And I'm tired."

"Look Ronnie," Patrick said, like he was doing his best to be patient with her. "This doesn't have to be vicious. Let's just call it for what it is and move on. We've grown apart, we want different things, it happens."

Ronnie's hand lifted. "Naw," she said, pointing her finger at him. "You don't get to have that. Like our marriage ending is as normal as the fucking seasons changing! You gave up on us when I wouldn't give you what you wanted when you wanted!"

"Ah now Ronnie that's bullshit. Stop painting me as the bad guy here."

"The bad guy?!" She mimicked a smirk. "You've been having an affair behind my back for months. You had sex with another woman. Repeatedly." The truth drained the malice from Ronnie's face. Her eyes festering with tears. Patrick gravitated towards her like a husband would do. "Don't." Ronnie stepped back, articulating her wishes with her hands. Her chin wobbling as Patrick cracked open the casket buried in the darkest part of her being. "I'm scared of being a mother, ok?" Ronnie blew through whistling lips. A sharp rip of pain shot along one side of her temple. She blamed it on the tiredness.

"Jesus Ronnie," said Patrick.

"I know, I know." Her broken smile trembled.

"Why are you only telling me this now for?"

"Because you were always setting stupid deadlines! You said we could wait until we were 35."

"That was you! And it was also you who set the fucking 30 deadline before you start on to me about that too."

Ronnie's eyes blew up. "Fine! It was me! I had to make the stupid fucking deadlines to get you off my back!"

Patrick rubbed his forehead, dragging his hand down over his face. He moved in a tight circle remembering all the promises they made to one another. Stalling, he clipped his hands on his hips, locking his eyes on Ronnie. "You've always had bother with just being honest with me," he said, his voice low, heavy with hurt.

Ronnie's heart sucked inside itself. When she didn't answer, Patrick walked around the island. The American fridge plastered with holiday magnets and photos was in full view now. Ronnie stuck on the image of her with shamrocks painted on either cheek, Patrick in a Mayo jersey cuddled beside her. Seeing Patrick at the utility room door, Ronnie panicked. "You normally just know without me having to tell you."

Patrick turned; his face wrecked with lines. "And you didn't think when we started to argue all the time and sleeping in separate rooms that then might have been a good time to just come out and say it?"

"You said it was only because of my shifts, not being able to sleep right..." Tears raced down Ronnie's cheeks, one against the other, rallying to the bottom. Patrick retraced his steps. "Naw Patrick." She pushed him away again, but he didn't give up. Ronnie gave in. She tied her hands behind his back, sobbing into his chest wishing he could take it all back. That he would scoop her up and carry her to bed. That he would run his fingers through her hair until she fell asleep and when she woke, they would make crazy love, hoping by the end there would be three of them instead of two. "I don't want to throw everything away." Ronnie peered up at Patrick. His dark brown eyes that were on the verge of black still reached her soul and the thought of not seeing them every day made her body go cold. "This could be a real chance for us to start over." She expected him to kiss her like he used to do when they were selfish and young and drunk on love. "Meant to be right?" She wedged in a hopeful smile. Patrick stiffened like frost.

"What is it?"

"Hayley's pregnant."