From what I can gather, he’s extremely private, and I know there has been some tension between him and Kieran that doesn’t seem to be getting better. I thought he would have gone back to the West Coast after his father’s funeral, but it seems he still has some unfinished business in the city.
“Ciara? Did you hear what I said?”
I blink, peeling my attention away from Ronan’s brother to focus on Mila.
“Huh?”
“You were lost for a second. What were you thinking about?”
“Oh…nothing.”
I take a sip of my hot chocolate, sighing at the rich, creamy taste.
Over the past few days, I’ve been going back and forth between being so nauseous I can barely eat a slice of plain toast to stuffing my face with everything in sight, because I’ve been so hungry only to feel sick and throw up anyway.
But for some reason, the hot chocolate is both settling to my stomach and satisfying my hunger.
“You sure?”
“If I drink nothing but hot chocolate for nine months, do you think this baby will come out looking like a marshmallow?”
Mila looks at me as if I’ve finally lost my mind, so I decide to shift the conversation away from myself and back to her.
I sneak another look at Cormac just to make sure he’s not paying us any attention. “So, the excuse you gave Ronan about the grief counseling… Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.”
Mila’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, maybe you should actually talk to someone about Max.”
She stiffens, her eyes suddenly glassy with tears. “I’m fine.”
I give her a knowing look. “You’re anything but fine, Mila, and that’s okay.”
She opens her mouth to argue but then closes it again. Her lower lip trembles slightly, and I see the crack in her exterior seconds before the dam finally breaks. Tears start to fill her eyes, and she covers her mouth with one hand to muffle a sob.
“I don’t know how to do this without him.”
My chest aches with grief. “I know.”
“I wake up every day thinking he’s going to call, and then I remember he’s gone and that I’ll never hear his voice again. The pain is so overwhelming it feels like I can’t breathe?—”
Mila sucks in a breath as she tries to keep a lid on her emotions.
I reach across the table and take her hand, trying to offer her any comfort I can. “You’re allowed to grieve, Mila. You don’t have to hold it together all the time.”
“I thought I could pretend it wasn’t real, but it is. He’s really gone, and I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
I know there’s nothing I can say to fix it, so I just sit quietly while she cries.
After a while, Mila wipes her face with a napkin and lets out a shaky laugh.
“God, I didn’t mean to turn this into a scene.”
“It’s not a scene. It’s real, and you're allowed to cry.”
She nods slowly. “Maybe I will talk to someone… I guess it can’t hurt to try.”
“It won’t always feel like this. I’m not saying you’ll get over the loss, but you will find a new normal.”
