𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧

Believe In Miracles

Joey leaned back against the cool brick wall outside the café, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. The rain had stopped, but the wet pavement still gleamed under the streetlights, reflecting the quiet hum of the Cork night. It was a typical late evening, the sort that felt too long yet too short at the same time, but in this moment, it felt like everything had come to a standstill. Orla was standing next to him, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist as she looked up at the sky, her green eyes sparkling despite the darkness around them. She had this way of lighting up the space around her, making everything feel just a little brighter.

The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, it felt like the kind of silence that could stretch on forever, full of unspoken understanding. Joey couldn't help but glance at her from the corner of his eye, trying to take in every detail. Her hair was damp from the rain, curling a little at the ends, and the way her lips curved into that soft smile of hers made his heart beat a little faster. It wasn't just the smile, though; it was everything about her. The way she'd always been there for him, even when he didn't deserve it. The way she never judged him, never gave up on him.

"Do you believe in miracles?" she asked suddenly, breaking the stillness. Her voice was light, almost dreamy, as if she was asking him to believe in something grander than life itself. She stared up at the sky again, and for a moment, Joey felt a pang of awe. Orla had this way of making even the simplest questions feel profound.

He took his time, allowing the weight of her words to settle around him. He could have laughed it off, made a sarcastic comment like he usually did, but he didn't. He didn't want to break the moment. Instead, he turned toward her, his gaze softening as he looked into her eyes.

"Yes," he said, his voice steady but quiet, like he was speaking a secret only she could hear. "I do believe in miracles."

Orla tilted her head slightly, studying him, a glimmer of surprise flashing across her face. "Really?" she asked, almost incredulous. Her eyes held that familiar spark of curiosity, as if she was asking for the deeper truth behind his answer.

Joey felt his heart thudding louder in his chest, and he had to fight the urge to look away. He'd never been one to open up easily, especially about something as deeply personal as this. But with Orla, it felt different. She was his anchor. She'd been there through the darkest parts of his life, always patient, always understanding, even when he couldn't find the strength to help himself.

"I do," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper this time. His gaze dropped for a moment before it found hers again, more intense now, more meaningful. "You, my love, are the greatest miracle."

Orla blinked, the words sinking in as her chest tightened with emotion. Her heart skipped a beat as she processed what he'd just said. Joey had never been one to be overly sentimental or romantic, and this—this confession—was as raw and honest as he'd ever been. It wasn't just about the words. It was about everything they meant, everything they had been through together.

For the past two years, Orla had seen Joey at his worst. She had watched him struggle with his addiction, the weight of his abusive father's words still echoing in his mind. She had been there when he fell, and she had been the one to lift him up every single time. There had been moments where Joey felt like giving up, moments when he thought there was no way out of the mess his life had become. But Orla had been there—her unwavering support, her gentle encouragement, her love. She had been his miracle, pulling him from the depths of his despair and reminding him that he was worth fighting for.

Joey didn't see it that way, though. He never saw himself as someone worthy of miracles, but Orla had always seen something in him that he couldn't see himself. And now, hearing him say this—hearing him call her his miracle—felt like the most beautiful and terrifying thing in the world.

She took a step closer, her hand reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She didn't say anything for a moment, unsure of how to respond to something so... intimate. But as she looked at him, her heart swelled, and she couldn't keep the smile from creeping onto her lips.

"Joey..." she started softly, her voice full of emotion. "I didn't do anything special. I just... I just cared about you. I always will."

Joey shook his head slightly, the faintest trace of a grin on his lips. "You don't get it, Orla," he said, his voice almost breaking. "You're the one who saved me. You're the one who helped me find myself again. When I was drowning, you were the one who kept me afloat. I don't know what I would've done without you."

Orla felt a lump form in her throat, the words he said touching her more deeply than she could express. She had always been there for him, but hearing him say it out loud, knowing how much he truly appreciated her—it made everything worth it. Every sleepless night, every time she had to pick him up from a dark place, every moment of doubt—it was all worth it.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said quietly, her voice full of conviction. She took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "I'm always going to be here for you."

Joey looked at her, his eyes soft and full of gratitude. For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to feel hope—real hope. He didn't have to fight alone anymore. He had Orla, and that was all that mattered.

In that moment, under the quiet glow of the streetlights, with the cool breeze blowing through their hair, Joey felt a peace he'd never known. It wasn't about the big, grand miracles. It was about the small moments. The moments that Orla had brought into his life. The miracle of her love, her care, and the fact that she had chosen to stay by his side through everything.

For the first time, Joey truly believed in miracles.