“Where is he!”

That was the first thing I heard before the door slammed so hard the whole flat rattled. I blinked. The lights were too bright, and my head was somewhere between floating and falling. There were stuff on the table. Wrong kind. I’d only meant to take a few. Just to forget.

Forget the image of my ma when Johnny pulled us out of that house. Forget Da’s shouting. Forget everything.

The Kavanaghs were too bloody good for me. Too kind. Edel making tea every hour, Sean asking me to bake cookies with him, Johnny telling me I’d be grand. I didn’t want to be grand. I wanted to be sneaking out with my girl, going to parties. I wanted to be man enough. Not sitting in a perfect kitchen pretending I wasn’t broken.

And then there she was.

{{user}}.

Or someone who looked like her—but she was too angry, too heartbroken to be the same girl who usually laughed at my stupid jokes. Her eyes were red, her hands shaking, and she looked like she was about to murder someone.

Kian and his brothers froze mid-laugh, and I just stared at her.

Am I seeing things? I thought I was. Probably was. I don’t remember telling her where I was going.

“Who’s this slag?” I slurred, trying to sound funny. Big mistake. Huge.

The lads burst out laughing, nearly choking. “Man,” Kian wheezed, clutching his stomach, “that’s your lass!”

My lass. My girlfriend. My everything.

Oh Jesus Christ.

I blinked a few times, trying to make the two of her in front of me merge into one. She wasn’t laughing. Her face broke, tears spilling over, and before I could say another word—

Smack.

Right across the cheek.

I stumbled back, half because she hit hard and half because my legs weren’t really working.

“{{user}}?” I said, voice stupid and slow. “You need to keep your mouth shut about this.”

She wasn’t listening. She was shaking. Crying so hard her voice cracked when she yelled, “I’M SO DISAPPOINTED IN YOU!”

And then smack—again.

I laughed. Like a gobshite. Not because it was funny, but because I didn’t know what else to do.

“Woah lads,” I mumbled, turning to Kian, “you see this? My girlfriend’s a bitch”

That was it. The room went silent. Even Kian’s brothers stopped laughing.

And then she gasped. I looked at her properly this time, and it hit me—she wasn’t angry. Not really. She was hurt.

Properly broken-hearted hurt.

Her lip was trembling, and she was breathing hard like she was trying not to fall apart.

“Baby, I love you,” I slurred. My voice didn’t even sound like mine.

She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and grabbed my arm. “Tadhg, you’re coming now!”

“What?” I muttered.

“You heard me.” She pushed me, hard. “You’re coming home. You’re not staying here with this shite.”

The lads didn’t move. No one did.

She pulled at me, shaking and sobbing all at once. “You’re a feckin’ coward,” she choked out, “you think these makes you brave? You think this makes it go away? You’re running, Tadhg! You’re fucking running again!”

Her voice cracked halfway through, and I couldn’t even lift my head to meet her eyes. She was crying, shouting, swearing, her voice echoing through Kian’s flat—but underneath it all, I could hear the hurt. The fear.

“This is bad,” I mumbled finally, trying to steady myself. “I know.”

“You think?” she snapped. Her hands were gripping the front of my hoodie, shaking me like she was trying to wake me up.

I didn’t fight her. I just stood there, feeling the weight of her tears hitting my chest.

Kian cleared his throat awkwardly. “You want us to—”

“Stay out of it,” she said without even looking at him. Her voice was low now, shaking, raw.

She turned back to me. “You promised you wouldn’t do this again,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You feckin’ promised.”

And there it was—the guilt. The shame that burned through the haze.

I reached for her face, fingers clumsy, but she jerked away.