“Ciara…” I reach for her arm, but she snatches it out of my reach, her green eyes flashing.
“Just because you’re ready to deal with everything doesn’t mean I am.”
My jaw clenches as I fight the urge to reach for her again. “Please don’t shut me out.”
She finally meets my gaze, and I wince at the sadness in her eyes, but there’s also something else. Something like fear…
“Tine Bheag?—”
“You’ve been ignoring me for days. And now you want to pick up where we left off like nothing ever happened? Well, I’m sorry, but it doesn’t work like that.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying we need to talk before this gets worse.”
“It alreadyisworse.” She steps past me. “And I’m tired, Ronan. I’m tired of being your emotional punching bag. I’m hurting too, but you only seem to care about how any of this affects you.”
“I’m sorry. I know I’ve not been fair to you.”
“You’ve been like a stranger, Ronan. I don’t even recognize you right now.”
Fuck.
Is that how she really feels?
“When I’ve needed you the most, you haven’t been there. Any time I need you, you shut me out, disappear. It’s always about what you want, what you need, never a thought about me. Even now, you are ready to talk and assume I’m just here waiting and willing for your crumbs. Well, I’m sorry, but I have feelings too. And if this is how you are when things get rough, then I want no part of it.”
Before I can respond, Ciara turns her back on me and stalks from the room.
I don’t try to stop her as she leaves or offer any other words of comfort, because I have none.
The fact is, Ciara was in pain the moment she learned of Max’s death, and the only thing I’ve offered her is coldness and silence. Instead of consoling her, I’ve only added to her pain, so she has every right to be angry with me.
I couldn’t put my own anger aside long enough to be there for her as she deals with her grief, leaving her feeling even more alone.
I was a fool to think she would accept my apology when, quite frankly, I don’t deserve it.
As Ciara’s footsteps disappear upstairs, I’m left wondering if I’m even capable of fixing what I’ve so thoroughly broken.
Chapter Seven
CIARA
So far,pregnancy sucks, and not just because of morning sickness.
If anything, the constant underlying nausea I’ve been experiencing is a distraction from having to be stuck in the house. Add to that the fact that I’m currently not on speaking terms with my husband, who has no idea I’m carrying his child, and I’m at my breaking point.
I’m due at the hospital for my first appointment with the OBGYN in an hour, and I have absolutely no idea how I’m going to get there.
Sure, I could just come clean to Ronan about the fact I’m pregnant, and it would solve a multitude of problems. But anytime anything out of the ordinary happens, he closes himself off from me, and we’re already not talking, so I have no idea what that would look like.
Besides, if I’m honest with myself, if I tell him, regardless of how he reacts, this will be real. And that scares the hell out of me.
I’ve been up since before dawn, pacing around my room as I try to come to terms with my new reality. But every time I place ahand on my stomach and think of the life growing inside me, my anxiety spikes, and I have to rush to the bathroom to throw up.
I want this baby, more than I care to admit out loud, but that’s what makes it terrifying. The thought of telling Ronan and him not being happy…
I’m not sure what that would mean for us.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I try my best to ignore the fluttering of nerves in my stomach as I think of a way to leave the house without having to talk to Ronan.
