“Of course. Do what you need to do.”
His eyes search mine, lingering for a moment as if he senses the weight pressing down on me. Then he nods, squeezing my arm once before stepping past me toward the door.
“I’ll be upstairs using Ronan’s office if you need me.”
I watch him go, every step dragging him further from me.
The house feels emptier once he’s gone, like he’s taken the air with him.
I sink onto the couch, Ciara’s words echoing in my head as I catch the sound of the office door slamming shut.
The timing will never be right.
She’s right. I know she is. Every time I’ve tried to tell him, something has gotten in the way. But now it’s not just circumstance holding me back. It’s fear.
I press both hands against my still flat bump as I close my eyes.
It’s not just about me anymore. I have to find the courage to tell the truth, not just for myself, but for the life growing inside me.
Kieran has no idea that his life is about to change, and whether it's for the better is up to him.
But I can’t keep this from him any longer. The longer I wait, the more impossible it will become.
Chapter Two
KIERAN
I drop heavilyinto the chair at Ronan’s desk, the old wood creaking under the impact. My head pounds, and my chest aches, and none of it is easing because the same thought keeps circling like a vulture.
Why, Cormac?
I knew he was hiding something. I’ve known about it for months. Hell, the moment he came back into our lives after years of being gone, part of me was waiting for him to stab a knife in each of our backs. And yet, I let Ronan talk me down. I let him smooth it over with his words about family and second chances.
Now Cormac is gone.
Why the fuck didn’t I stand my ground? Maybe if I’d forced Ronan to take my concerns seriously, we wouldn’t be in this mess, and I could have caught him before he had the chance to vanish.
I slam my fist against the desk just as Ronan appears.
“I’d rather you didn’t take your anger out on our father’s antique desk.”
“We need to talk.” My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to be.
Ronan closes the door behind him. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”
Leaning forward, I brace my elbows on the desk. “Then talk.”
“What do you want me to say, Kieran?”
“I want you to tell me what the fuck it is that you’ve been keeping for Cormac.”
Ronan’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t answer.
“Jesus Christ, Ronan. How the hell am I supposed to step up and act as the head of this family when it’s clear you don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth?”
“It’s not about trust.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit.” I push back from the desk and rise to my feet, the chair scraping across the floor. “Itisabout trust. If you’re covering for him?—”
