The plane banked to the right. Far below, the ocean twinkled as we approached the US east coast. It had been months since I spent time here. Despite my chaotic emotions, I was looking forward to seeing the kids. And my sister, although Iwasn’tlooking forward to being interrogated.
I refused to think about saying goodbye to the guys. They were no longer my priority. It was time to put my own needs first.
“Pixie, we need to talk.” My resolve wobbled when Ronan took my hand, but I forced myself to step back. Thea had messaged Conal to say she was waiting through the next set of doors, so I needed to get my shit together and leave. Only I was making a half-assed job of it.
“Ronan,” I hedged as Conal joined us, a small bag slung over his shoulder. Two identical sets of gray eyes met mine. One hopeful and the other wary. Conal was way more intuitive than his twin, and I knew he’d picked up on the distance I’d enforced since Sicily.
The words I needed to say tumbled from my lips in a rush.
“I need some space.”
“Space? Why would you want that? I already told you the Instagram chick thing was bullshit. You’re the only woman for me, Pixie girl.” He flashed a megawatt smile at me, but I steeled my resolve, refusing to fall for his charm.
“I need space to figure out my next steps and staying in your orbit just fucks with my head,” I admitted while focusing on his chest rather than the whipped puppy expression on his face.
Conal looked surprised but nodded in understanding.
“Take all the time you need, sweetheart,” he said. “We’re here for you when you’re ready.”
“I’m going to look for a therapist,” I told him. “Work through some of my trauma.”
“But Pixie, I love you! You can’t leave me again!” Ronan looked distraught, like I’d stabbed him in the chest while laughing, but it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t love anyone until I’d learned to love myself first. And for that to happen, I needed to unpick my daddy issues.
Conal’s arms tightened around me. I closed my eyes and inhaled his scent, soaking up his strength and steadfastness. Conal was my rock. The one who propped me up when I needed support. But while I loved how he never judged me, I knew we’d fallen into a toxic pattern of him trying to fix me.
That was not the basis for a healthy relationship.
“I love you, sweetheart. Here’s a new phone if you want to talk.” He handed me a silver iPhone and dropped a kiss on my forehead before stepping back. My eyes pricked with tears, but I refused to give into the urge to cry. This wasn’t goodbye. Not forever, at least.
“I’ll be in touch,” I promised, shoving the phone in my pocket.
Ronan grabbed me, squeezing me so tight I could barely breathe.
“I mean it, Pixie. I fucking love you. If you need space, I’ll give you space, but not indefinitely, you hear me?” He loosened his grip and pushed me away while still cupping my face. “You can run, Pixie, but I’ll always find you. You and me are end-game. Like Romeo and Juliet.”
A small chuckle escaped. “You know they both die, right? And are also teenagers.”
He frowned. “OK, so that’s a shit example. What about the couple in that sappy movie about something wrong with the stars?”
“The Fault In Our Stars?” Conal suggested with a smirk.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Um, the guy dies in that one,” I pointed out.
Ronan huffed with frustration. “So we’ll write our own love story!”
“I have to go, Ronan. Thea’s waiting.” He reluctantly released me, taking a small step back.
“Ver! What the actual fuck is taking so long? The kids are driving me nuts!”
My sister stormed through the doors, ignoring the angry squawks from an enraged security guard
“Miss! You can’t be in here!”
“Fuck off and die!” She stuck her middle finger up at him.
“I was on my way,” I laughed as she pulled me in for a hug. “Now you’ve pissed that man off. He might call ICE and have me arrested.”
