"You didn't embarrass me." He turns, and his expression is intense. "You defended me. No one's ever done that before."
"They were being cruel."
"They were being honest. I did fail that job."
“I’m sure there was a good reason why.” My voice shakes. “I’ve seen you fight… in that garage. You couldn’t… there must be a reason.”
Sean’s jaw tightens. “There is. But I should have done it, all the same.”
“Why?” I swallow hard. “Why are you blaming yourself for it? What happened?”
He dodges the latter question. "Because that's what I am, Maeve. That's what I do. I kill people. That's all I've ever been good at." He runs a hand through his wet hair. "The Council knows it. Flynn knows it. And you should know it too."
"I do know it." I look up at him. "But that's not all you are. You're also the man who taught me to cook last night. Who's teaching me to protect myself. Who's kept me safe when everyone else I've ever known is dead."
He flinches at that last part. "Maeve?—"
A long silence stretches out between us. Sean runs his hand through his hair and sheds his coat, walking into the living room. I take mine off, too, and follow him. When I reach the window where he’s standing, I can see a dark, pensive look on his face.
“Sean?” I say his name cautiously, and he looks at me, his expression tight.
"I knew your family was dead," Sean says quietly. "But I didn't realize how traumatic it all was. How much you've been through. I'm sorry, Maeve. For all of it."
A sob catches in my throat, and suddenly I'm crying—really crying for the first time since Desmond died. Sean pulls me against him without hesitation, his arms coming around me, and I bury my face in his chest and let it all out. All the grief I've been holding back. All the fear and loneliness and pain.
He holds me through it, one hand stroking my hair, murmuring quiet words in Gaelic I can't understand, but that soothe me anyway.
"I'm sorry," I gasp when I can finally speak. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall apart?—"
"Don't apologize." His voice is rough. "You're allowed to fall apart. You've earned it."
I pull back slightly to look at him, and his expression is so tender, so different from the cold mask he usually wears, that it makes my heart ache. For the first time, it looks as if he’s open to me. As if he’s softened in a way that he never has before. The possibilities of what that could mean for us make my head spin.
"I promise I'll protect you," he says, his hand coming up to cup my face. "No one else is going to hurt you. Not while I'm alive.”
"Sean—"
"I mean it, Maeve. I swear it."
I realize, looking at him as he guides us to the couch and slowly sits down with me next to him, that I believe him. I really do believe him.
We sit like that for a moment, his thumb brushing away my tears, his eyes locked on mine. And suddenly, before I can think about it, I’m talking.
"My family was..." I take a shaky breath. "They weren't good people. Not really. My father was cold, distant. All he cared about was the business. And my siblings..."
I stop, looking at him. He doesn’t want to hear all of this, I think. He couldn’t possibly. He doesn’t care. But his face is still more open than it’s ever been before, his expression calm and quiet, and after a long moment, he speaks.
"Tell me," Sean says quietly.
So I do. I tell him about growing up overshadowed by Siobhan's beauty and Desmond's charisma. How they both had these huge, commanding personalities that filled every room, and I just... faded into the background.
"Siobhan was cruel," I say, the words tumbling out now. "Not obviously. Not where anyone else could see. But she'd say things. About how plain I was. How boring. How I'd never amount to anything because I didn't have her looks or Desmond's charm. How I wasn’t needed because the family had her. I was… an extra. An unnecessary burden. A part of the family that could fade into the background because no one had any use for me."
Sean's jaw tightens. "And your brother?"
"Desmond was... complicated. Sometimes he'd defend me. But other times he'd join in. Make jokes at my expense. Let Siobhan tear me down and laugh along with her." I wipe at my eyes. "And my father just ignored it. He kept me sheltered, kept me ignorant about the business, like I was a child who couldn't be trusted with real information."
I swallow hard. “They just... kept me locked away. Like I was something fragile and useless." My voice breaks. "And then, after Siobhan died, my father wanted to marry me off to Ronan O’Malley. Her husband.”
