Page 37 of Finn

“Roisin had a stroke—a bad one. Niall needs me. She needs me. I don’t have much choice.”

“Of course not—they are your family. You have to go. Oh, I wish I were there with you.”

“So do I.”

There was a pause. I cleared my throat.

“Roman Costas is running everything while I’m gone. If you need something, you call him. Anything.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Una. Anything. You understand me?”

“Yes.” She hesitated. “You can call me anytime too, Finn. If you need to talk or a shoulder. I’m here.”

“I know, mo chroí. I know.” I took a deep breath. “We’re going to talk when I get back, do you hear me? Really talk.”

“Finn…”

“My patience is done.”

Her intake of air was fast.

“Done,” I repeated.

“I heard you the first time, Finn.”

“Just so you understand. Life is too fucking short, Una. I’m not spending it without you anymore. Think about it while I’m gone.” I paused. “Tá mé i ngrá leat. I love you.”

I hung up before she could reply.

CHAPTER EIGHT

FINN

The plane trip was smooth and mostly silent. Niall was lost in his thoughts, no doubt worried and upset. He and I weren’t good at discussing feelings. He knew I was there, would offer any support I could, and that was enough for him.

The onboard staff stayed away, offering food and drink we accepted, although the food was mostly picked at.

The drinks, however, were replenished a few times.

I spent the flight checking emails, texts, checking in with Roman and getting told off for doing so.

For fuck’s sake, O’Reilly. It’s been 6 hours. What kind of catastrophe are you expecting in 6 hours? Look after your family. I have it in hand.

Somehow his message made me feel better.

I leaned my head back, thinking of what I had said to Una. Why I had said it. I hadn’t planned it. It simply came out.

But it was the truth. I was tired of pretending. Pretending she didn’t mean what she meant to me. Pretending that I was fine with being on the fringes of her life. Worrying constantly that one day I would see her with another man. One who didn’t deserve her—who would never treat her like the queen she was. She needed to be adored, cared for, protected. Lavished with gifts and love. Fucked on a regular basis and made love to other times. And both done by a man strong enough and clever enough to know the difference.

And the only man suitable for that job was me.

I recalled waking up in the hospital, Una hovering over me, pale, scared, and panicked. I was weak and in pain, barely able to talk. Niall was a constant shadow behind her, assuring me quietly the threat had been eliminated and that Una was safe. I was in and out of it for days, the loss of blood and the length of surgery taking its toll.

When the haze began to lift, Una was there. Helpful, careful, always encouraging.

And distant. She kept her emotions in check and stayed close enough to care, but not feel. She held herself back. I hated every second of it.