The Saoirse Chronicles-Healing @ 21 Plus - Page 2

She flopped back onto the bed, the wind completely knocked out of her sails. Father's Day always hit hard. There had been a few good men in her life. Her Uncle John, for one. If it hadn't been for him, her childhood would've been absolute shite. The handful of happy memories that hadn't been buried somewhere deep inside her mind almost all revolved around him and his family.  The Jersey Shore.  Great Barrington, Massachusetts and endless trips to Bennington, Vermont.

But he wasn't her father.

He was simply present and dependable.

Everything a father should have been—without ever carrying the title.

Father's Day was just another annual reminder that her childhood had been fifty-two cards short of a full deck. Abnormal. And it could have been worse.  A story that often felt more like fiction than memory.

Truth be told, no one was entirely sure who had contributed the sperm responsible for her existence. There were two possible candidates in America. But for all anyone knew, he could just as easily have been wandering around a dairy farm somewhere in Ireland. After all, she'd been born in the tiny village of Crosspatrick, County Kilkenny. Stranger things had happened.

The story she'd always been told was that her mother had traveled to Ireland to visit family before the so-called ‘nuptials’ back in the States. Somewhere along the way, she supposedly discovered she was pregnant. Complications forced her to give birth in the homeland before she could return.

That was the official version, anyway.

Mind you, the tale was always delivered with raised eyebrows and strange glances, leading Saoirse to conclude it was absolute horseshit—much like most of the stories surrounding her life. There was always some wild spin attached to her mother, Kathleen. Separating fact from fiction had become an impossible task.  It was easier to herd cats.

Nevertheless, after making her grand debut—delivered by a midwife in her cousin's home—she'd been whisked back to the States, where she'd remained ever since.

Still wondering...

Who did she belong to?

Who was Saoirse Nolan?

A woman still undone by a holiday. A patchwork of half-truths, unanswered questions, and missing pieces, forever trying to assemble a life from fragments that never quite fit.

The window above her bed stood open. A brisk breeze drifted through the sheer curtains, carrying the sweet, earthy scent of rain.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. That smell always felt like a renewed promise.

Her weight shifted. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and planted both feet firmly on the floor.

No safe room needed.

No pity party today.