I grunt as I devour the toast like a man who hasn’t eaten in weeks. It’s slathered in butter, just the way I used to have it when I was a child.
“How far along is she?”
I shrug before licking the butter off my fingers. “Seven weeks, maybe eight?”
Ronan stays quiet until my plate is clean and my water is empty.
I would never admit it to Ronan, but the food has helped, and the nausea is starting to pass.
“Eight weeks is still pretty early. Did you not know that maybe Riley wanted to be sure everything was all right before she told you?”
“Don’t you fucking defend her.” I slam my hand down onto the table. The glass and plate rattle, but Ronan doesn’t even flinch. “She should have told me the second she found out. I deserved to know.”
Ronan leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest, quietly studying me in a way that makes me want to claw my own skin off.
“Just fucking say whatever it is you need to say.”
“What’s really bothering you? The fact that Riley lied or that you’re terrified of being a father? Because let’s face it, not forgiving her won’t change the fact that it’s happening. You’re going to be a dad. So, you can either keep being pissed off, or you can figure out how to deal with it.”
“You don’t get it.” I lower my gaze to the table.
“Then make me get it.”
I don’t answer because the truth is, I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore. Anger, betrayal, fear… They’re all tangled together in a mess I can’t make sense of.
Riley lied. She looked me in the eyes every day for weeks and said nothing while I walked around oblivious. And for what? To protect me? Or because she didn’t trust me enough to stay?
Ronan gets to his feet and walks over to the coffee machine and picks up an envelope that is resting against it.
“Here.” He sets it down in front of me.
I frown at the sight of my name written on the front in delicate cursive.
“What’s this?”
“It’s from Riley. She asked me to give it to you, and I suggest you read it.”
I stare at the envelope, but don’t reach for it.
“She’s been sitting outside for the last three hours. Waiting for you to come home.”
That makes me look up. “She’s still awake?”
“She hasn’t moved from that chair by the pool. Looks like she’s been crying the whole time.”
Something tightens in my chest, but I shove the feeling down.
I don’t want to feel sorry for her. I don’t want to feelanythingfor her.
Ronan heads toward the door, but just before he leaves, he glances over his shoulder.
“Read the letter, Kieran. Then decide what you’re gonna do. But don’t let your pride make the decision for you.”
The door closes behind him, leaving me alone with the envelope staring back at me.
It sits there like a loaded gun, daring me to pick it up.
And after a long moment, I do.
