When Keira's penultimate day in Lisdoonvarna arrived, she awoke with a heavy heart. It was hard to believe that her plane was tomorrow, that the month was almost over, and that she would soon be returning to New York City. She wasn't sure how well she would cope with all the high-rises and queues of taxis after the quaint quietness of Ireland.
As she showered and dressed for her final full day, William's story about the happily married couple replayed in her mind. Maybe if she could track down Simon and Sylvia somehow, and hear their side of the story, she'd have the last bits of information needed for her article. Because there just had to be more to it than love at first sight and fifty years of wedded bliss. She refused to believe it worked that way, that it could really be that easy.
The problem was, Keira only had her memory of a photo taken fifty years earlier to rely on in finding them.
She checked all the usual haunts, the pubs, the corner shops. Everyone she spoke to either knew Simon and Sylvia personally or knew of them. But no one seemed to know whether they'd come this year. And whenever she asked for their contact details she was met with suspicion.
The woman in the pub next door to Orin's seemed to know Simon and Sylvia well. But she wouldn't help Keira.
"You're the reporter, aren't you? The American?" she asked, accusingly, folding her arms.
"Yes," Keira admitted with a sigh. She was getting used to people distrusting her now. Word had spread quickly about the piece she'd written and how she'd bashed them all in it. Friendly faces were much harder to come by these days.
"Then I'm not telling you anything. I know what you're like. You'll twist it for your piece."
Keira left the pub with a heavy heart.
Despite her failure, she didn't much feel like returning to the St. Paddy's Inn. Orin was still barely saying two words to her. So instead she found herself wandering along the street without direction.
Right on the outskirts of town she found a small patch of grass she'd not noticed before. There was a sign proclaiming that it was a park, the smallest in Ireland, which Keira could believe because it was only about as long and wide as a bus. There was a solitary tree, a bench, and a statue of the Virgin Mary. Keira sunk down into the bench. As she did so, her eyes skimmed over the little gold plaque affixed to it.
Simon & Sylvia.
She couldn't believe it. The Lovers of Lisdoonvarna had built their own park with their own bench and own tree. It was absurdly romantic.
Keira decided that all she had to do then was stay here on the bench and wait for the two of them to arrive. They were certain to do so at some point. She just had to be patient. It wasn't like she had anywhere else to be.
She waited and waited, at times feeling foolish, at others Zenlike in her ability to remain patient. The air grew cooler as the daylight began to fade. Soon people were streaming along the road, filing out of their hotels and B&Bs for the night of festivities. But Keira stayed put. She'd heard enough of their stories. It was Simon and Sylvia's she wanted now, so certain was she that theirs would be the one she needed to finally finish her piece.
She must have fallen asleep at some point because Keira suddenly became aware of two faces peering down at her. She startled up to sitting, her back twinging. How long had she been lying on the hard bench snoozing?
Keira realized then that the two people looking at her—an old man and woman—were familiar. They were the elderly couple she'd seen at the horse and cart race, back when she and Shane had still been on good terms, before she'd ruined everything with him, forcing herself to receive yet another bruise to her heart, so close to the one Zach had caused.
"You're not Simon and Sylvia, are you?" Keira asked.
The man and woman looked at each other.
"That we are," Simon replied, smiling. "We must be famous, Sylvs, if they know about us on the other side of the pond."
The woman chuckled. "It's about time. You know I've always wanted to appear on Oprah."
"I was looking for you," Keira said. "I'm a reporter, writing an article on the Festival of Love. And you're the golden couple, the big success story."
Sylvia seemed to brighten even more when she said that. "We really are famous, Si!"
"Can I ask you some questions?" Keira said.
"Please do."
They sat either side of her, sandwiching her between them. It was uncomfortable to say the least.
Keira got her notebook and pen out. Then she paused.
"Full disclosure," she said. "The article I'm writing isn't the most complimentary of pieces."
Simon frowned then, confused. "Why ever not?"
"Oh no," Sylvia added. "She's a cynic."
Simon looked sad for her. "Breaks my heart how these young people behave these days. No one has any faith in each other. No one sticks relationships out anymore. They think it's all about the lust and passion. But that only carries you through the first few years. Then the work begins."
Keira began jotting down his words. "So you've found your marriage hard work?"
Sylvia laughed at that. "Goodness no! Not hard. Work, yes. But work is rewarding. I'm sure you'd agree with that."
Keira wasn't so sure anymore. She'd found this whole experience grueling and tiring. But she still cared more about her career than her love life.
"I guess," she admitted.
"And even when it is hard," Simon continued, "you don't mind because you want it to work. You're both striving for the same thing, for success in your marriage."
Keira noted down the way the two seemed to share each other's thoughts, one beginning a train of thought while the other finished it. It was as if that'd been together so long they'd forgotten where one of them ended and the other began.
"I suppose I'm most interested in these tough bits," Keira said. "You've both mentioned having to work at the relationship. What's been difficult for you?"
"Most things," Sylvia said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "There's been a great deal of compromise. Should we paint the kitchen green or blue? Should we invite his mother over for Christmas or mine?"
"You must have had more disagreements than that," Keira said. It sounded rather petty to her. "Sylvia, tell me, did you have to choose between motherhood and a career?"
"Oh yes," the woman said. "For a while, when the children were very young and needed me around. I was a nurse, you see. But when you get to my age and look back on all the years you've had, a five-year career pause doesn't seem like that much of a big thing. Hardly a sacrifice at all."
Keira scribbled down the story. She looked at Simon. "Did you appreciate the sacrifice Sylvia made in order to bring your children into the world?"
"Of course!" he exclaimed. "Our children mean the world to me, to both of us."
"Simon sacrificed too, during that time," Sylvia added. "He had to work doubly hard at work to support the family. We both had to make concessions for what we wanted."
Keira tried to see the negatives in their story, to read the bad between the lines, but they were just so damn likeable. They shared a kind of calm demeanor that must have come about through years of patience and compromise.
She folded the cover of her notebook back. "Do you think you're both better people for having found one another?" she asked.
She wasn't asking for the article anymore, but for herself, for her own curiosity. She'd always felt like settling down was giving in. Committing forever to one person was akin to giving up on yourself. But she was starting to consider a different possibility; that being united with a lover in marriage made both parties stronger, better, nicer. There was power in unity. She'd simply never realized before.
Simon and Sylvia smiled at each other.
"We certainly do," they both said.
Keira could see the love and adoration in their eyes as they gazed at each other. She'd seen it before, in Calum's and Eve's eyes when they looked at each other. And in the couple who'd won the horse and cart race, the Polish woman and her newfound beau.
There was another place she'd seen it, and that was in Shane's eyes when he looked at her. Had she been teetering on finding true love only to ruin it by prioritizing her snarky article? Had she done the thing Zach always accused her of, of giving more of herself to Joshua than to their relationship?
"I need some advice," Keira suddenly blurted.
"Go ahead," Simon said. "We've become something of agony aunts over the years, haven't we, Sylvs?"
The woman nodded her agreement.
"I think I found someone," Keira explained. "Someone really decent. But I hurt his feelings. I said some mean things."
"Have you apologized yet?" Simon asked. "That word sorry goes a long, long way. It's one of the greatest lessons you learn in marriage; that even when you're certain you're right, you are often wrong!"
"I haven't had the chance," Keira said, glumly. "He's ignoring me. I haven't seen him since the fight."
"Have you called?" Sylvia asked.
"He never picks up," she said. "And even if he did, I have no idea what I could say to him to get him to forgive me."
"Be honest," Simon said. "Speak from the heart. If your intentions are pure, he'll be able to see that. Whether he acts on it or not is a different matter, and not something we can answer for you. But if you give him every chance to forgive you then you'll be able to sleep easier knowing you've done everything in your power to make amends."
Keira looked from Simon to Sylvia and back again. Their sage advice rang in her ears. There was no way she was going to add them into her article. They were the real deal. And more than at any point during her whole trip to Ireland, she realized that she truly did believe in love. Not just as something that could happen, not as a compromise made through fear of loneliness, but as a pure, beautiful thing to be nurtured, cherished, and tended to like a garden.
Keira stood up from the bench, suddenly filled with motivation.
"Thank you, guys," she said. She went to rush back to the St. Paddy's Inn, but turned around quickly and added, "Happy anniversary!"
As they waved goodbye, Keira hurried away, finding herself filled with renewed energy and focus. Because she wanted what they had. She wanted the silver anniversary, the gold. She wanted the compromise and sacrifice. The respect and patience. She wanted to grow and experience all that love, true love, had to offer. And she knew who she wanted to experience that with. She just had to convince him of the same!