I couldn’t speak. All my feelings had gathered in my throat and were choking me.
The sound of a baby’s sudden wail sobered me.
“Damn it,” Quinn muttered. “Thanks a lot, whoever you are.” Then he hung up.
The sob burst out of me, the phone dropping to the floor with a thud. I fell sideways onto the bed, clutching my pillow as I muffled my cries in it. It hurt like that first day. And I hated Quinn more than I ever loved him in that moment. I hated him for doing this to me. I hated me for my inability to just fucking let him go.
But I had to.
I had to let him go, or I’d spend the rest of my life this broken person I didn’t even recognize.
After a while, I calmed, having cried until I just couldn’t anymore.
I turned, staring up at my ceiling, the tears drying on my cheeks, my nose stuffed and my head pounding.
“I’m letting him go,” I whispered out to the universe, hoping that the fates would help me keep my promise.
23.Quinn
July, This Year
“Do you know how much it hurts my pride for you to know that, Quinn?” Taran seethed, lowering her voice as a couple came out of the main hall of the community center. “For you to know that you broke me? And that’s twice now you’ve forced me to say it.”
A now-familiar burn flared under my sternum. “The problem, Taran, is that you believe you were the only one left devastated. I’m trying to tell you that you weren’t.” My voice rose on the end, drawing the couple’s curious gaze. “Please, let’s go somewhere and talk.”
I waited, heart in my fucking throat, for what felt like forever.
Finally, she offered, “If I let you tell your side of the story, do you promise to drop it? To leave things well enough alone between us?”
My whole body railed at the idea of giving up. But if it was what she truly wanted, then I had to abide by her wishes. “I promise.”
“Fine.” She gestured to the exit. “We can talk at my place.”
Nerves rattled through me, making me feel like the fourteen-year-old who needed weeks to gather the courage to ask out his best friend. It took me a moment to realize Taran was already opening the front door. Hurrying to her side, I took the door from her, holding it so she could step out. I quickly fell in beside her as we took the stone stairs down to the community hall’s car park. The building was situated on a parcel of land by itself two streets elevated behind Main Street and only a few minutes’ walk from Taran’s childhood home.
There was a vehicle parked in every space because folks had come from all over for the ceilidh. A group of teenagers huddled together near the shadowed end of the building, laughing and drinking.
Taran hadn’t even seemed to notice them. It was a still, humid evening, and yet she crossed her arms over her chest, huddling into herself as if cold. Her defensive demeanor made me feel like shit. It made me resent the fact that I couldn’t just put my arm around her and cuddle her close—promise her that everything would be all right.
I opened my mouth to speak, to alleviate the thick tension between us, but the sudden sound of squealing tires and a roaring engine cut me off. I glanced over my shoulder, wincing at the flare of headlights.
My body registered the threat before my brain did. I dove at Taran, wrapping my arms tight around her waist as I swung her off her feet, hauling us backward out of the path of the vehicle. As it screeched by, I landed on my back with Taran on top of me.
The breath was knocked out of me as the car skidded from the car park and disappeared around the corner.
Pain flared up my back and neck as I released my hold on Taran with a groan.
“Oh my God, oh my God.” Taran scrambled off, turning to cover me. “Quinn, are you all right?”
“Are you okay?” The teenagers appeared around us. One girl waved her phone. “I’ll call the police!”
“Quinn.” Taran pushed her face into mine, eyes big with worry. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” I grunted, pushing up into a sitting position. “A bit bruised, but fine.”
“Are you sure?” She tentatively rested her hand on my shoulder. “You went down hard on concrete. Did you hit your head?”
Cognizance returned as the pain in my back dulled to a low throb. “No. Who the fuck was that?” I pushed to standing.
