“No soundtrack today. Just us.”
One year later.
In a cozy apartment in Dublin, with a window overlooking a garden damp with a typical Irish drizzle, Patricia was trying to teach her husband how to chop an onion without crying. In the background, a vinyl record from an obscure German indie band spun quietly on the turntable.
"The key is not to overthink it, Cal," Patricia said, laughing at Cathal's squinting face. "Just chop."
"Easy for you to say," Cathal retorted. "You have 'the Schmidt Stare' that can make an onion submit to your will."
Their married life was filled with moments like these. Normal, simple moments, full of easy laughter. Patricia was now the vice principal at an international school in Dublin, and Cathal had just started his internship at a law firm. "Operation Summer Sunshine" felt like it had happened in another lifetime.
Suddenly, the front door opened without a knock, and an energetic figure burst in.
"You won't believe what I just found!" Andrea Corr exclaimed, placing a few brochures on their kitchen counter, which was already covered in cooking ingredients.