I’m suddenly aware of the tension I’ve been holding in my shoulders since the moment I walked in the door. I bet it’s been there for a helluva lot longer than that. Probably my whole life. “No one thinks it’s real. So you end up as some kind of walking-wounded adult who doesn’t fucking know how to go there emotionally.”
He bobs his head, getting it. “I don’t know how I would have ended up if I hadn’t had Heath in my life.”
Probably a lot like me.
“Heath’s a really good man. I’m glad you had him growing up. Y’all seem tight.”
“Yeah, we are. But…”
I glance over, telling the bird flapping about in my chest not to get ahead of itself. “But?”
He drums his fingers on his thigh, gesturing as though having a whole conversation to himself. Finally, he makes eye contact. “You know, we never talked about it, the way you ran out that day.”
“I know. And I can’t…I was terrified when you said that to me.”
I’m not totally sure why, but saying that aloud to him releases the valve on some of that long-standing tension.
“But why? I totally gave you an out,” he says, gesturing broadly with his hands. “I said I didn’t mean it.”
I shake my head. “But youdidmean it, Ro. And if I wasn’t there with you, I might have been able to believe the lie.”
“Wait…youwerethere? You were in love with me?” he asks, whispering the last part, breathless.
I curl my hands into fists against the abject terror that attempts to wind its way into my guts and instead focus on the possibilities ahead. I let a few moments and a few more breaths pass by before I finally answer, trying hard to keep my voice steady. “Of course I was in love with you. I spent a year getting to know you, Ronan. I don’t know anyone who could hang around you for that long and not be at least half in love with you.”
“I don’t—”
“Ro, it’s the biggest regret of my life.”
It’s his turn to go silent.
After several moments, he turns to me, his expression soft. “Why didn’t you come after me?”
I let out a long sigh, not sure if there’s anything I can say to salvage myself. Probably not. My voice barely above a rasp, I answer him. “I mean it when I say I was terrified. I thought I was protecting myself from something terrible, something so fucking dangerous, that I had to run.”
“How—?” he starts, then stops. Holding up his hand, he continues. “No, I do get it. It’s just…fuck, it hurts.”
Present tense.
“I’m so sorry.” I lower my eyes, physically aching for him.
We stand there in strained silence, not looking at each other but not looking away either. Grappling with the grief of years lost to our fucked-up family dynamics.
I touch his arm. He stills and flicks his eyes up to mine. So much pain. And maybe something less certain. No rhyme or reason to it, I bend down and touch my forehead to his. Ronan’s breath catches, but he doesn’t pull away.
After a few seconds, I break the weighted silence. “Ro, if I could undo one day in my life, it would be that day. If I could do it all over again, I would’ve swallowed my fear and told you that I felt the same way. I would’ve stayed in your bed and let you feed me dinner. I would’ve spent the rest of my life with you.”
My words are rushed, filled as I am with this urgent need to get them out before I swallow them down again. Like they might just crush me if I hold on to them for too long. As though they haven’t been crushing me this whole time.
His hand comes to my chest, his refined fingers grasping the fabric. “And now?”
The uncertainty and hope in his voice are my undoing. I answer by wrapping him up in my arms and holding him. Just…holding him. He tenses briefly, but lets out a gust of air before resting his head on my shoulder. I don’t dare think beyond this moment, but I can’t help the kisses that I lay on his cheeks and jawline or the effect of his small gasp when he turns his face to mine, brushing our lips together.
Terrified, I give myself a beat then sink into the kiss. Even if the words fail me now, I’m willing to be afraid if it means I have a chance to be with him. I pull him tighter. He lets me. Shaky on the inhale, he buries his face in my chest.
After a few moments of breathing in his scent, warming myself with his body heat, I tilt his face up, kissing him again with all of my feelings right at the surface. The words get stuck in my throat, but his answering kiss tells me he understands.
We finally pull back from each other, and his grin crinkles the corners of his eyes. Sure, there’s still a part of me that wants to push him to the floor right now and take him apart. But a larger part of me just wants time with him.
