“And what about you two, huh? Did you know?” I ask, looking at Orin and Ronan. But they don’t respond to me either. Rage and betrayal fill me up, a stark contrast to the numbness I felt last night. I laugh hoarsely, feeling dizzy. “I should have fucking known. God, I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I actually trusted any of you.”
I have to get out of here. I try to walk around Callum, but he grabs my arm.
“Let me go,” I say coldly.
“Listen—” Callum starts, but I’m done listening.
“No! You listen. I’m over the secrets and the lies! All three of you,” my voice breaks. “You're no better than Nessa.” I turn and head for the front door, grabbing my purse off the table in the entryway.
“Where are you going?” Callum yells, his footsteps pounding behind me.
“I don’t fucking know, but I can’t be near you right now,” I say, not looking at him.
“Maeve,” he says, a plea. His voice is raspy, broken. But I don’t look at him. I can’t. I refuse to let him off the hook again.
“No, Callum.”
“I’ll go with her,” Orin chimes in, and I whirl on him.
“I don’t think so,” I say, letting venom seep into my voice. “You can stay here with them and stew in your bullshit,” I grit out, pointing to Laoise. It’s a low blow. Orin pauses, his face collapsing into a mask of hurt, and some distant part of my conscience screams at me. But in this moment, I don’t care.
“You arenotgoing out alone. I won’t allow it!” Callum's tone is harsh, and his stance is aggressive as he leans down, his face only inches from mine.
I push him away and step back. “You won’tallow it? What are you, my fiancé or my father?” I laugh, unable to believe his condescension. I take a couple of steps back toward him, getting intohispersonal space now. “You don’t control me. No one does. I’m fucking leaving, no matter what you say.”
He runs his hands through his hair roughly. “Please, Maeve. Let someone go with you,” he begs, trying to soften his voice.
“Saoirse, let’s go. I’m taking the first vehicle with keys, so you’d better hope you’re in the car when I pull out of the driveway or I’m leaving without you, and everyone will just have to get the fuck over it,” I say, turning to the door.
“Fucking go, Saoirse!” I hear Callum yell from inside as I open the second car door.
“I'm fucking going, arsehole,” Saoirse yells back, and I swear I hear a growl from within the house. I don’t give a fuck as I turn the keys to the car, and Saoirse jumps in the passenger seat with only a second to spare as I peel out, distancing myself from that house, from Callum, from the lies and whatever other bullshit I still wasn’t being told about.
It isn’t until we're fifteen minutes from the house that I let the first tear fall. I pull to the side of the road and stare out of the windshield. I slam my fists on the steering wheel over and over until I can’t feel the pain anymore. I’m sobbing and almost forget that I’m not alone in the car until Saoirse places a handkerchief in my hand. Does everyone keep one of these in their pocket here? I take it and clean my face, but I realize she handed it to me because the cut on my hand from last night busted back open.
“Thanks,” I say, dabbing at the blood.
“Don’t mention it,” she responds, looking at her lap. “Why don’t I take you to one of my favorite spots? It’s about another hour out, and we can grab lunch and spend the day away, or night if that’s what you need. I have an apartment there that I use when I need it.”
Not a demand, not a request. Just an option for me to decide.
“You’re driving.” And that’s all I say before I open the door and pass Saoirse as we swap seats. She slides into the driver's seat and adjusts it slightly to fit her taller frame. I turn the radio on, and that’s when I realize I’d left my phone at the house. I ask Saoirse for hers and connect it to the car's Bluetooth. I find a Sleep Token playlist and hit play before setting the phone down in the cup holder. We ride in silence for the next half hour, until she speaks, so quietly I almost don’t catch it.
“I’m sorry for causing any issues.”
I don’t break my resolute stare out of the window. “If they hadn’t kept it from me, then it wouldn’t have been an issue in the first place.”
I’m still so angry, but more hurt than anything. All three of them, and not to mention our parents, lied to me. I can understand being fed a different story during childhood, but as an adult, I deserve the truth. Underneath all of that, though, I can’t shake a nagging doubt. What is it about me that causes everyone to keep me in the dark? Am I really as fragile as they seem to think? I’ve been through hell myself, just like most of them had, and I made it out the other side alive. True, I have a few scars, but who doesn’t? Why don’t I deserve the truth?
“I know, but still,” Saoirse says, breaking my reverie. She cracks her window, and I look over to see her pulling out a pack of cigarettes. She sees me looking at them and holds the pack out, offering me one. I slide one out and roll it in my fingers, waiting for her to pass the lighter. It has been ages since I last had one. I smoked a lot while I was in college, but Lorcan found out and was not happy with me. He made me train twice as long each day until I finally quit.
Well, Lorcan’s not here right now, and I’m done with orders.
“Thanks.” I put the cigarette between my lips and light it, inhaling deeply, feeling the silky burn all the way down into my lungs. I blow smoke slowly out of the window, watching it roll over the glass and dissipate in the open air.
“Would you have said yes to his proposal if you’d known about the marriage contract?” No judgment in her tone, just curiosity. So I take a moment to really consider it as I watch the smoke curl over my fingers.
“Yes,” I tell her honestly.
