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For my husband, who ensures the rum is never gone. (And by rum, I mean gin.)
“Ah, I’ve rendered you speechless. With my good looks, no doubt.”
“I didn’t have much choice.” Her voice came out a near whisper, so low she wondered if he’d hear. “There’s always a choice. Good outcomes? That’s another story. But a choice always remains.”
the pirates certainly would all know about it. Pirates talk.” “Of course. Like a bunch of gossipy old ladies.” Aoife stifled a laugh. “Pretty much. Perhaps worse.”
“No one would have been happy with them.” “That ruthless and callous?” “That stupid and dull.”
“Your actions here matter. We each have a role to play. Don’t let yourself ever believe that yours is less important because it’s done in the shadows.”
Aoife flashed him her best version of his smirk and waited. “You know something I don’t,” he said. “Surprising, I know. I’m trying to relish this moment.”
“It seems the best way to move on is to learn to laugh about it,” she said, sounding resolute despite the twinkle flashing in her green eyes.
“So when we’re alone, you’ll smile. And I’ll call you Declan.” Another nod. “How scandalous, Captain.”
“You’re a goofy drunk, you know that?” “Who said I was drunk?” “So you’re just goofy then.” “Only with my friends.”
“Aye. But perhaps I came to realize if we don’t enjoy ourselves a bit, if we don’t keep our mind focused on the good things we have—or could have—then what is the point? Is success worth losing sight of everything worth living for?”
