Whiskey in the Jar Romance

“Do you truly want to be married again?”

“I am a woman,” she said. “It’s what we do.”

“If you had freedom—”

“My sister tried to play this game with me,” she said. “Freedom is an adventure. I have had enough of adventure. I want security. Home. Children. People to . . . ”

“Love?”

“I am not that much a fool. Not anymore.”

How astounding to realize that he was. He was that fool.

“But I would like to have someone to care for. Work beside.”

Tears stood out in her eyes and she blinked them away. Such power she had. Such control. “What is the difference?” he asked.

“I don't know. But love, faith, trust . . . all those things bring ruin to women. And I have been ruined enough.”

“None of us can ever get back what we lost,” he whispered.

“I know,” she said. “But it doesn’t mean I have to live in exile from what I want for the rest of my life, does it?”

Her words shook him to his core and he realized that was what he’d been doing for long, long years. Living in exile. From the life he wanted.