“We did.A lot.”
Mae and Murph let us hang out in here as much as we wanted when we were younger.They even let me sleep over occasionally, camped out in a sleeping bag on the floor.Things changed when we started dating; no more sleepovers, and our time alone was monitored more closely, with the bedroom door remaining open at all times.Even then, I knew they trusted us.They wouldn’t have let me in Fiona’s room at all otherwise, door open or not.Over the years, Mae and Murph have trusted me with some of their most precious things, including the work I’ve done on this house, and taking care of Murph when he was sick.And then there’s the thing they hold most dear: Fiona.
“I’d like to call a truce,” I say suddenly.
Fiona’s eyebrows wing up.“A truce?”
“Yeah.”I pace around the room, giving myself a moment to collect my racing thoughts before I’m able to look at Fiona again.“A truce.Remember the day of Murph’s wake when I told you how he hoped I’d be able to forgive you, and that maybe we could even be friends someday?”
She nods silently.The hope in her eyes tells me there’s no going back now.
“I wasn’t sure if I could.I mean, Ihaveforgiven you, if you can really call it that.”
“What do you mean?”
I sigh, jamming my hands in the pockets of my jeans, and looking down at my black socks.“I don’t know that there was ever anything to forgive youfor.Not really.I always knew you were going to leave.You made that clear from a young age, and I knew you were working toward it, saving money, researching places to visit.I guess I hoped...”I trail off and force myself to meet her eyes.“I hoped you’d change your mind.I know that’s incredibly selfish and probably stupid, but I hoped you’d love me enough to stay.Or at least come back.”
“Nathan.”Her voice is a choked whisper.
I hold up a hand to cut off whatever she might say next.I need to get this out while I can.“I know now it had nothing to do with that.I don’t doubt what we had or...or that you loved me.”I say the last part in a rush, then swallow hard.“Murph and I talked about it a lot.No matter what he said or how much sense he made, there was a part of me that refused to listen.Refused to believe that you leaving wasn’t selfish.
“ButIwas the selfish one, making it all about me.I didn’t fully realize that until after he was gone.”I rub a hand absently over my chest where an ever-present ache now dwells.“I’ve experienced loss before, but this is different.Having a front-row seat to Mae’s grief, to yours, to all the people we love, it’s reminded me how fucking short life is.How precious.”
Fiona’s throat works for several seconds before she swallows audibly.There have been so many times in the last few weeks when I’ve wondered if she has the same lump in her throat as I do.The one that threatens to choke me at any moment.
“Death puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?”she says.
“It does.So I want to try.Regardless of how long you’re staying, I need to get to a place where I’m okay being around you.Where I’m not flooded with memories or old hurts every time I see you.”Head tilted down, I peer up at her, trying to gauge her reaction.Her expression is surprisingly neutral.
I’ve come this far, so I might as well lay it all out there.“It’s not going to be easy, at least not at first,” I continue.“I was angry for a really long time.And under that anger, I still loved you, which just fed the anger, because I kept thinking it would have been so much easier to hate you.And that maybe if I’d been able to hate you, I could have moved on sooner.”
She looks slightly stunned, her eyes still wide and her brows arched high.
“That’s on me, though,” I say quickly.“All of it’s on me.But I want to keep making Murph proud.Before he died, he...he...”I huff, my eyes burning.“He made me promise to take care of his girls.And if nothing else, I’d like to consider myself a man of my word.”
Fiona presses her lips together so tightly they turn white.She makes a soft, choked sound as tears fill her eyes and spill down her cheeks.“Youarea man of your word, Nathan.You always have been.That was always one of the things I loved most about you.And I know my dad would be proud of you, whether you simply tolerate my presence or we end up as friends again.”
Long seconds pass as we stare at each other.I imagine she’s feeling a similar tsunami of emotions to the one roiling inside me.Some long-buried instinct in me wants to dry her tears, press a kiss to the furrow in her brow, and pull her into my arms.She takes the smallest step toward me, and I move forward without conscious thought.
There’s still a foot or so of space between us when Mae calls up the stairs, asking if we’re coming down for breakfast.Fiona and I both blink heavily, as if we’ve awoken from a strange spell and forgotten where we are.I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved.Other than the day of Murph’s wake, this is the most I’ve said to Fiona in ages, and allowing myself to be vulnerable and honest has left me exhausted.
We head in unison toward the door.Fiona pauses outside her bedroom, stopping me with a hand on my arm.“I do want to be friends again.Our friendship was always one of the most important things to me.”
“Me too,” I say.“So we’ll…give this a try?See how it goes?”
Her lips lift slightly.I don’t allow my gaze to linger on them.“Yeah, we’ll give it a shot.”
I motion that we should make our way toward the stairs.“Thanks for listening to me ramble earlier, and again now.”
“Are you kidding?”she says.“I should be thankingyoufor saying more than a few words to me.”
I chuckle under my breath.“And not jumping down your throat?”
“That too.”We pause at the top of the stairs.She gives me a genuine smile, the kind I’ve only caught brief glimpses of since she’s been back home.“Friends,” she says, bumping her hip against mine.
The word rings in my ears.I meant it when I agreed that her friendship was always one of the most important things to me, but it’s been a long time since Fiona Murphy and I have been friends.And despite my best efforts to deny it, I’m not entirely sure what I feel for her could be described solely as ‘friendly’.
CHAPTER ELEVEN ~ FIONA
