The house was full.

Low music. Chocolate cake smell in the air.

You smiled among your friends, but inside you still struggled to keep everything firm.

Edel cut slices of the cake with the same skill with which he read souls.

She watched everything with attentive eyes. And especially now...

She watched Feely.

He was leaning against the door, the dim light from the kitchen hitting his face.

But it was the way he looked at you, even when you weren’t seeing, that made Edel squeeze the napkin harder.

Later, while you were putting the glasses in the sink, she appeared next to you, drying her hands with a dishcloth.

Shut up for a second.

And then:

“He looks at you like your father looked at me when I didn’t even know it was love.”

You turned around, surprise.

“What?”

Edel looked at you tenderly.

“Feely. He looks at you like someone who loves in silence.”

You bit your lip, looking away.

“He’s Hughie’s friend, Mom...”

“And Hughie hurt you,” she replied, firm, but kind. “And that boy there... He didn’t. He stays. He takes care even when he thinks you don’t notice.”

You swallowed hard.

“Maybe it’s too late.”

Edel smiled.

That smile that said: you still don’t understand anything, dear.

“It’s never too late to choose who really chooses you. Just don’t be afraid of wanting to be loved right.”

You nodded, swallowed by the silence of the kitchen.

When he left, he found Feely leaning against the wall of the back garden, away from the party, his eyes down, moving the arm bracelet as he always did when he was nervous.

You took a deep breath.

Maybe Edel was right.

Maybe you just needed to stop running away.