"Andy, could you grab that bag for me?" his mother called from the driveway.

"Yeah, coming Mum!" he replied, pushing through the door and picking up the bag on the porch with his free hand. He covered the distance to the car in three large strides and helping his mother put the back in the boot of the car.

"You know, I am so glad you decided to join us on the trip," his mother said, shutting the boot. "I was beginning to think I'd lost you to that lovely girl you've been with all summer."

He stiffened slightly but played it off with a smile. "Of course not!" he said, putting a long arm around his mother's shoulders.

"Speaking of, why don't you invite Molly to come along?" she offered. "There's plenty of space."

"Its a two bedroom cottage, Mum," he said with a nervous chuckle. "Where would she sleep?"

Raine stopped and looked at him. "Andrew, I wasn't born yesterday," she said with a knowing look and a pat on his chest.

He felt his face heating up and looked away. "I actually didn't want to invite her," he lied, clearing his throat. "I wanted to enjoy my time with you guys. And support you, obviously."

He was actually suffering as much as Prometheus begore Hercules freed him, constantly feeling like part of him was being ripped away. But when his mother told him she was having an art showing at a gallery in Galway, he jumped at the chance to go with them. In his continued bid to create distance between himself and Molly, he was hoping that a weekend away would make her think he was okay with moving on when she left. Now he just had to convince his parents that he'd rather be with them instead.

He had purposefully not told her he was busy this weekend. No, this weekend would be completely Molly-free. It was all about his mother and her art. She had worked a long time on her current series and this gallery opening was a major step for her. He was more than happy to play Supportive Son.

"Andy, give us a hand, will ye?" he father called from the front stoop.

Andrew rushed over to the older man and helped him across the grass. He'd been doing better lately, which was why he wanted to come along on the trip.

"Passenger side," John said. "Your mam's driving."

He had just managed to put his father in the seat when a bicycle bell rang at the end of their driveway. He looked up and saw Molly climbing off her bike and wheeling it up the gravel, an overnight bag slung across her shoulder.

"Sorry I'm late," she apologized, allowing his mother to hug her. "There was an issue at the main house I had to deal with."

"Molly - what are you...why are you here?" he stammered, confused.

"Your dad invited me," she answered, putting her bag in the car.

"Lovely to see you, Molly," his father called from the car. "You can just put your bike round the back in the shed."

"Yeah, I - Let me help with that," Andrew said, trying to catch up to her. She was halfway around to the garden before he caught her.

"Thought you could sneak away?" she asked, a playful look on her face.

He took the bike from her and propped it again the wooden side of the shed while he pulled the creaking doors open. "I wasn't trying to sneak," he grunted with effort. The doors swung open, letting out the smell of earth and mustiness. "I just figured you would have something better to do than come with me and my parents to Galway," he said, wheeling the bike into the darkness.

"I'm not going for you," she replied. "I'm going to support your mom."

"That's really nice of you," he answered.

He was torn between the excitement of spending the weekend with her and the frustration of how hard he had worked to create distance between them. All of that work was gone.

"Are you okay with me going?" she asked, clearly picking up on the tension in his voice.

"Yeah, of course," he lied as he walked out of the shed. He forced a happy tone to throw her off. "It'll be really good for my mum to have all the support she can get."

He pushed the doors shut with another grunt and wiped his hands off. As he passed her, Molly reached out and took one of his hands in hers and just like that, he was under her spell again.

"Come on, you two. We'll hit traffic if we don't get a move on!" his mother exclaimed.

Andrew dropped Molly's hand and opened the back door for her before clambering in on the other side. He tried to act like he was comfortable with his knees essentially around his ears, but Molly noticed.

"Are you sure you have enough space?" she asked. "I don't have to come."

"Don't be ridiculous," Raine replied. "Its a quick ride."

Its three hours, he thought, cursing his mother.

"Are you sure?" Molly asked.

"Yes. Its fine. Let's just go," he insisted. "The sooner we get there, the better."

Aware that his mother kept glancing back at him through her mirror, he kept his hands to himself. He wondered if this was his parents' way of injecting themselves into his romantic life. In the past, they'd left well enough alone. He'd brought home a girl or two and they had been just as polite and generous as they had been with Molly. But obviously this time was different.

"So Molly, only a week left here, then right?" his dad asked.

"Yeah, unfortunately," she replied, leaning forward.

"Well, we'll be sad to see you go," his mother answered. "I'm sure Andy will miss you."

Yet again he was hoping the ground would swallow him and save him from embarrassment.

"We have certainly enjoyed having you here with us," John said. "You're welcome here any time, of course. No need to call."

"I'll keep that in mind," Molly said with a chuckle.

The countryside passed by as they drove down the R148. A moment of nostalgia hit him as he cranked his window down. Despite being over 13 years old, the 2003 VW Golf was still running strong. He could remember the days as a teenager when he'd pack the boot of the hatchback with gear and drive off to a gig. Or when his mother would drive him to school while he rushed to finish maths assignments in the back seat. It still smelled the same: oil paints mixed with cigarette smoke and earth. A Springsteen song blared through the old speakers and he settled into his seat for the ride.

A couple hours later, they were pulling up to a cottage on the outskirts of Galway. A train was coursing by, the noise rattling the car's windows. The cottage was on the end of a long row of houses that had seen better days.

"This'll be nice to sleep next to," he remarked as they got out and began unloading things.

"There's a benefit to it - you can set your watch by each train so you'll know exactly how many hours of sleep you're missing out on," Callie teased, sticking her tongue out at him.

Andrew grinned as he helped his dad into the house. It was set up much like his parents' home, with a front room and dining area on one side of the house and the kitchen on the other.

"There's a bedroom downstairs and I think the second one is upstairs," Raine offered, taking one of the suitcases from him.

"Mum, it's fine. I can do it," he protested.

He returned to the car and picked up Molly's bag along with his own before going back inside and climbing the narrow staircase behind a worn wooden door to the second floor. The ceiling was low enough that he had to slouch, but a gable on one side of the room allowed him to stand fully. The room was much more like an attic conversion than a full bedroom, but it had its charms. Exposed beams overhead and a large picture window above the head board of the double bed made it feel like he was in a hidden room in a cottage by the sea, like he'd dreamed of having when he was a child. A place to hide away from it all and just be.

"Wow, that's one hell of a view," Molly's voice met his ears. "Its a shame your parents can't stay up here to see it."

She stood next to him, surveying the ocean in the distance. He felt himself harden as she slid her fingers between his.

"I know what you're doing, Andrew," she said softly. "You're pushing me away."

He bit his lip and took a step away from her, busying himself with pulling things from his bag. "No - no, I'm just trying to focus on my parents," he lied.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head, staring at him for several seconds. "You're lying," she said firmly.

He looked up and sighed heavily. "Look, Molly," he started, searching for the right words. For all his literary prowess, she was the only person who routinely left him speechless. "I asked you to stay longer and you said no. And I respect it - I do. Just...I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed. I mean, I get it. You've got a life in Los Angeles. You're in the middle of school. This is just a fun thing to pass the time. I get it."

Molly stood there, staring at him intently.

"But its like you waltz into my life and flip everything upside down," he continued. "You've ripped me open and completely changed everything about me and I just..." He took a breath and turned his back to her to compose himself. For several seconds the only noise around them was his parents moving things around downstairs. He chose his words carefully. "You leaving isn't going to be easy for me. So of course I'm trying to protect myself. Can you blame me?" he asked, facing her.

She shook her head. "I can't blame you for that," she replied. "Do you want me to go then? I can catch a train back. Its still early enough."

"No. I don't want you to go," he sighed. "I just want...I don't know what I want. Can we just enjoy the time we have left instead of being upset, please?"

You know exactly what you want, you dumb fuck. But you can't have it. So you're going to engage in the most masochistic behavior possible rather than be honest and tell her that it would be much better for you if she did leave.

"Your mom said she was heading over to the gallery to check on a few things and I told her I'd help her," Molly said. "I was just coming up to grab something from my bag."

He shook his head to clear it of his internal monologue. "Sure. Whatever you had planned, go for it," he said, forcing a smile.

She pecked him on the cheek and left, carrying a book with her. He lost himself staring out the window as clouds raced across the sky.

"Andy!" his father called, jarring him out of his thoughts.

"What?" he asked.

"Your mum wanted us to have dinner ready by the time she got back," his father called up the stairs. "Come down and help me."

Andrew had a flashback of the many afternoons in his youth where his father said the same thing. It was almost always a ruse and he ended up doing all the work while his father talked. Many an excellent conversation had been had while Andrew peeled potatoes and chopped onions as his dad sat at the kitchen table.

"Yeah - I'll be right down," he replied, standing up with effort and wondering what the topic would be that time.

***

That evening, after Raine and Molly had returned and they had all sat down to dinner, Molly and Andrew were busying themselves with the dishes while his parents watched the small television in the lounge.

"The exhibit looks fantastic," Molly beamed. "Your mom really outdid herself on this one. Its a shame John couldn't come for it."

"It is," Andrew replied, placing a pot on the dish rack. "This is the first time mum has put herself out there like this. She could use all the support she can get."

Their hands brushed briefly as she handed him a plate. It very nearly slipped through his soapy fingers.

"I can sleep downstairs if you want," she said softly.

He scoffed. "My mother would kill me for letting you sleep on the sofa," he replied. "I don't care if you sleep next to me. If anything I can just sleep on the floor."

She wiped her hands off on a dish rag and turned to lean against the bench top. "How did we get to this point, Andrew?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the running tap. "A couple weeks ago, we were practically fucking in public and now you won't even look at me."

"I'd have thought it was obvious by now, Molly," he replied, his voice barely over a whisper.

She sighed and walked out of the kitchen. He could hear her tell his parents she was going to sleep and then her footsteps ascended the staircase. He took longer than necessary to rinse the remaining dishes and set them up on the drying rack. He even scrubbed the bench tops and cleaned the sink basin out. When he had no other tasks, he turned out the light and went into the lounge. An evening news show was running, casting bright lights through the dim room.

"Headed to sleep?" his father asked. Andrew could swear he saw a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"No, actually. I thought I'd stay up with you for a bit longer, if that's okay," he replied.

"We were actually just going to head to bed," his mother said, turning the television off. "I want to get over to the gallery before the show to make sure everything is still perfect."

Andrew could sense his mother's anxiety and he knew what she must be feeling. It was daunting and terrifying to share pieces you have poured your heart and soul into, especially on a large scale. He knew she probably wouldn't sleep a wink that night, just like he hadn't the night before his first gig years ago in school.

"Feel free to stay up if you want, though, Raine said. "Just keep the volume low."

"Goodnight," he said, watching them go back to their bedroom.

He flipped the television back on, turning the volume low, and tried to focus on the show. Unfortunately, his efforts were in vain as his mind kept drifting to Molly upstairs. Surely she'd be asleep by now and he wondered how easily he could creep up the staircase and get into bed. Part of him worried that if he didn't, it would make her feel like he wasn't interested. Part of him felt that if he did, it would ruin the work he was doing to try to distance himself. And then another part of him was so addicted to her presence that he wanted to go be with her, even though he knew it would destroy him.

As with every addict, logic disappeared and he found himself turning off the TV and climbing the steps to the attic room. Darkness had fallen and the stars were out. He could hear the waves crashing nearby and smell the salt in the air. Moonlight came in through the open window, casting Molly in light on the bed. She was asleep under the blanket, her hair pulled up into a messy bun. He watched her breathing for several seconds, calm and steady. She was facing away from him, but he knew exactly what she'd look like.

As quietly as he could, he changed from his jeans and t-shirt into his pajamas and slid under the blanket next to her. His eyes were closed and he was almost asleep when he felt her fingers whisper across his chest and her weight settle on top of his hips. He opened his eyes and saw her silhouette in the moonlight. He hardened underneath her touch as she leaned over and kissed him. His hands automatically went to her waist and he was surprised to find that she was naked.

A small animalistic growl came from his lips and she smiled and sighed softly. Without words, he reached down and slid his sweatpants off, allowing her to slide on top of his cock. He hissed in pleasure, biting his tongue to literally keep from making a noise. The only sounds around them were the waves and the wind in the trees outside as Molly rose up and down at a torturously slow pace. He watched as she leaned back, the moonlight catching the planes of her face, highlighting them perfectly.

It seemed as though she was lost in her own world of hedonism, oblivious to him underneath her. And he was happy to be a spectator to her pleasure, happy to be a witness to her beauty. He wasn't sure how long they were like that, lost in a haze of pleasure as the world slept around them, but he'd have stayed that way all night if he could. He allowed his hands to explore every inch of her body, memorizing every curve. She brought him to the edge multiple times and when it felt like he was about to fall over, she stopped and assaulted his mouth with her tongue.

It took everything he had not to make a single sound, but found that he didn't miss it. There was something so natural about the sounds of night around them that he didn't want to spoil it. But eventually he couldn't contain himself any longer and he felt Molly clench around him, triggering him to release inside her. He lay there, shaking as she trembled on top of him. He brought his arms around her, holding her tightly, not wanting the moment to end.

***

The sun rose too soon the next morning and Andrew blinked awake in the light. Molly was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on a pair of worn Doc Martens. She looked over her shoulder at him as he stirred.

"You're awake," she said simply, grinning.

He groaned and raised his arms over his head. "It would appear so, yes." He yawned loudly. "Where are you off to so early?" he asked.

"Just thought I'd go for a walk," she replied.

"Oh - I'll come with you," he said, tossing the sheets off and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

"No its alright," she said standing quickly. "I kind of wanted to go on my own."

He deflated. "Oh. Yeah, cool," he said quickly.

She opened her mouth to respond, but didn't. After giving him a quick smile, she went down the stairs.

He knew better than to follow her, even though it was what his heart was screaming for him to do. Yesterday, she had made her position perfectly clear with him. He would spend time on his own that day before the gallery show that evening.

So he took himself on a walk of his own down to the beach. The wind was wicked and whipped through his hair, tossing it around. The sea air always relaxed him when he was growing up. For a time, in high school, he and his friends would take bets to see which of them could stay in the icy waters the longest. It was a dangerous game to play and he almost never won.

He walked along the water and watched the seagulls flying overhead. Already he could feel the chill of autumn creeping back in. The summer had been too brief and he wasn't ready for it to end. But true to his word, he had planned out Molly's last weekend in Ireland.

The hotel was booked - he'd debated if splashing out on a nicer room was too much, but in the end he thought it was a nice touch. He was tempted to book reservations at a nice restaurant but he knew Molly wasn't into that (and neither was he to be honest). Instead he had phoned Chester, Jamie, Maeve, and Connor and invited them to a pub near the hotel. And on Sunday, he didn't intend on leaving the room at all. It would just be the two of them holed up in their own little world. The irony was not lost on him that his heart would be breaking on what was supposed to be the holiest day of the week.

Eventually he found his way back to the rental, in time for lunch. His dad told him Molly was at the gallery with his mother, so it was just the two of them tucking into simple sandwiches in the small kitchen.

"Molly leaves next week," he said slowly.

"Well we'll be sad to see her go," John replied carefully. "I know you two have grown really close over the summer. She's a great young lady."

Andrew nodded and ran his tongue along his teeth. "She is."

"Go after her Andrew," John said quietly.

Andrew scoffed. "And do what? I don't like Los Angeles. I'd hate living there. She'd hate me for coming because she'd feel like she was obligated to stay with me if I moved my life over there for her. We'd eventually resent each other. That's not how I want things to go with her."

"But you love her," his dad replied.

"Yeah. I do. But she doesn't love me back. So that's that, isn't it?" Andrew said, standing. He checked his watch. "We'd better get ready if we want to get to the gallery early."

The dress code for the evening was cocktail formal, which he thought was a bit pretentious. But wanting to be a supportive son, he had packed a pair of slacks and a sports coat that hadn't seen the light of day since the Grammys several years prior. When he was dressed, he helped his father get ready. They were just pulling on their sport coats when Molly came in.

"Hey," he said, putting his coat back on its hanger. "I thought you were just going to meet us there."

"I did too until I realized I had left my dress here," she rushed. "Just give me like twenty minutes and I'll be down."

She rushed up the stairs and the two men exchanged a look before settling into the sofa to wait.

"Your mum took everything she needed with her this morning, right?" his father asked.

"As far as I know," Andrew replied. "She said she'd change at the gallery."

"Good."

They could hear Molly rushing around above them. A loud thud and several curse words drew their eyes to the ceiling.

"Maybe you should go check on her," John suggested.

"Yeah," Andrew replied, taking the steps two at a time.

He found her sitting on the end of the bed with a small mirror hastily applying makeup. Her hair was pulled back in a high pony tail and she was just in her bra and underwear. A pair of black high heels sat next to her feet.

"Everything alright?" he asked. "We heard a thud and figured you might need some help," he chuckled.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Molly replied with a smile. "Could you hand me that dress?" she asked, closing her mirror.

He closed the door and found a cherry red dress hanging on the back. He took it off the hanger and walked it over to her. She stood and slipped it on, pulling it up and putting her arms through the sleeves.

"Zip me up?" she asked, pulling her pony tail over a shoulder and turning away from him.

"Yeah," he gently pulled the zip up and closed the clasp at the top.

"How do I look?" she asked, slipping on the high heels and picking up a small purse from the bed. "I got it when I was in Galway and I didn't think I'd have a reason to wear it. Does it - do I look okay?" she asked nervously, fidgeting with her hair.

He was suddenly very aware of his father below them waiting in the silence. What he wanted to do to her in that moment would not have been quiet. The dress fell just above her knees and pulled in above her hips, highlighting her slim waist. The lace sleeves fell just below her elbow and were perfect for the cooler night ahead.

Suddenly, Andrew had a vision of her future. She would argue cases in the mornings and attend drinks events with friends after work to celebrate her wins. She would spend hours researching old laws to defend the wrongfully-accused and end her late night study sessions with her equally-talented coworkers. She would help the less fortunate and change lives. And she would do it all by herself, without anyone else's help. She had earned it all on her own. And if he went after her, he would only be in her way. It was better this way.

"You look beautiful," he said, taking her in. "Except," he took a step closer and gently pulled the pony tail down. Her hair fell gently over her shoulders. "Perfect."

"We should go," she said. "Your mom will be scared shitless if we show up late."

He helped her down the stairs, holding her hand gently. His father let out an appreciative whistle.

"Molly you look stunning," John said.

Andrew noticed the slight blush that rose in his father's cheeks when Molly gave him a sweet peck on the cheek. "Thank you," she said. "We'd better get going."

Half an hour later, they met Raine at the gallery. She was obviously anxious as she looked around, putting finishing touches on the converted industrial space. 

"Oh good, you're here!" she exclaimed hugging the three of them. "John, I'd love you to meet a few people," she said, guiding her husband off to the side. 

"You helped her set all of this up?" Andrew asked Molly as they drifted into the open space. She nodded.

The large white walls were filled with his mother's works under fancy gallery lighting. The room flowed from one piece to another, leading to a larger one at the very center. It was full of vibrant colors - a drastic shift from his mother's typical color palette - a featured a young woman with jet black hair falling over her shoulders, blocking her bare breasts. The rest of her naked body was hidden by a fur blanket over her hips as she leaned back on a sofa. Her face was in profile, but he would have recognized it anywhere. 

"When did you do this?" he asked Molly as she sidled up next to him. 

"Here and there," she shrugged. "Your mom asked if I wanted to pose for her and I agreed. We met over several weeks. I enjoyed it."

"Its beautiful," he remarked, taking in every curve, every angle. "And you said you'd never be a model," he said with a smirk. 

She shot him one of her sunshine smiles and he felt his heart break all over again.