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RONAN
“Bring me good news, son.”
The words that have been haunting me. It has been impossible to do anything without seeing the eyes of Cesare and his family scrutinize me as he threatens me as nonchalantly as he puffs his pipe.
I have her for only one day before a mob war arises and the blood bath begins.
When did I get the chance to get her back?
How cruel can life be to mock me this way?
I need her with me.
It was one thing to know she was alive and happy with another man, which was something I used to tell myself to feel better when we were apart. But it’s an entirely different thing if she dies.
“You don’t have to agree to it,” I stutter as I watch her turn red from my request.
“No,” she chuckles, “I would love that.”
“We don’t need to do anything, I just want to have you close.”
“That’s fine, too,” she breathes.
I chuckle and nod to that.
“Shall we?”
I stand, extend my hand and she takes it.
I know I get impulsive, I know I act before thinking, I know I get all over the place when I’m angry, but I swear to the fucking heavens that I never wanted to lose her, and everything I fucking did, I did because I loved her.
Even letting her go was done out of love.
I grind my teeth, feeling my chest squeeze.
I lead her down the hallway, catching her eyes briskly in the mirror down the hallway, close to the door of my quarters.
There she is. My fucking heartbeat. The core of my very being. The center of everything that has ever truly meant something worth living for.
I loved her.
I loved her so fucking much that when shit went down, I thought the best thing to do was let her go. Now, I cannot help but think that if I had never let her go, if I had never fucking ruined what we had by stepping in the way and doing things without her consent, we wouldn’t be here.
I would have married her in a heartbeat. I would have given up this life if there was ever a flinch of doubt that she could cope with it. I was a boy in fucking love, and like every other teenage boy, I acted the fool.
I push the door open and lead her into my bedroom.
I close the door, and she steps further in, looking at me as I step away from the door.
I have always loved how she makes me feel like there is nobody else but me. I wish I could take back time because I know I would spend every fucking second holding her to my chest.
“I know you have always loved the cold, but I…” she says, rubbing her hands together.
I nod and strut to the walk-in closet, feeling her come after me. I pull out a sweater made of soft, wooly fabric. It's one of my favorites, Riley knitted it.
I smile at the hideous teddy on the front of the sweater. The brown and purple knitted teddy is disturbing to look at.
I hand the sweater to Olivia, and she smiles. I want to look at her as she changes but I don’t want to violate her privacy, so I look in the wardrobe to find something to wear.
