“And then?”
“And then I saw my ex-girlfriend in your arms, and some small part of me was jealous. Not because she was yours, but because you could love her in a way I never could. I swear to god, Liam, if you fuck this up, I’ll never forgive you.”
I raise my brows and snort. “That’s rich coming from you.”
“I know, but I still think you should tell her how you feel.”
“I can’t. It’s too complicated. There’s Aiden to think about, and her career...”
He shakes his head and pins me with a hard stare. “You’ve spent nearly two decades taking care of other people. A job you never asked for, mind you. You’re the selfless one—the man everyone can rely on. But what about you? Don’t you think it’s about time you were a little bit selfish? You deserve to put your own happiness first for once.”
“I don’t have the luxury of putting myself first. I haven’t since the day our parents died.”
We’ve always avoided talking about what happened. He used to ask me about them when we were younger. Those questions tapered off as we grew up. At some point, we came to some silent agreement not to talk about them at all. Maybe if we had, we’d be in a better place now, but regret won’t change anything.
We exchange an anguished expression, and he releases a resigned sigh. “Ok.”
I stand and grab his empty bottle from the coffee table. “Can I get you another drink?”
“Nah. I think I’m gonna call it a night. Thanks though.”
“Why don’t you take the guest room? I’m sure Aiden would love to have you around for breakfast.”
“Yeah? You sure?”
“Positive.”
With a curt nod, he stands, taking two steps in my direction. He holds out his arms, and we hug for the first time in years. It’s brief, but something about the gesture has a lump forming in my throat.
He starts down the hallway, but I don’t let him get far.
“Connor?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for telling me. I’m proud of you.”
A small smile forms on his face, and it’s then that I notice just how much time has changed him. He’s not the little boy I raised anymore.
He disappears into the guest room, and I’m left alone with a million different thoughts playing through my head. Our entire childhood feels monumentally transformed, and I can see how so much of his angst and anger had nothing to do with me or Ruby, and everything to do with his internal conflict. Connor was struggling with his identity, and I failed to notice the signs.
Fuck. I’m a piece of shit. Maybe I could’ve helped him come to terms with things sooner. Maybe we wouldn’t have wasted years on manufactured hostility.
Ruby plucks the empty glass from my hand and replaces it with a full one. “How did it go?”
“Fuck, Goldie. I don’t even know where to start.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
I take a drink and place the glass on the coffee table. I won’t out Connor to Ruby—that’s his story to tell in his own time.
“No. Not yet.” I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her onto my lap. “Right now, I just want to hold you.”
With her legs draped across me, she rests her head against my shoulder and sighs contentedly. “You ok?”
“Yeah. I’m good.”
She kisses the underside of my jaw and nuzzles into me. “Take me to bed.”
