Page 79 of Sinner’s Game

Devlin, however, didn’t need to know that.

He looked up, realizing he’d been staring at the inside of his glass. Devlin was staring at him.

“Just stop it already,” Ronan snapped. “Seriously, you’re getting on my nerves, and we’re going to have issues.”

“Then that’s what we’ll have. You’re my best friend, my closest friend. I’m worried about you, buddy. I’d also be happy to knock some sense into you right now. I’m starting to think that may be the only way. So if you want to step out in the alley, let’s go for it.”

“God, you’re an asshole.”

“This isn’t about you being scared to love her because you might lose her.”

“What the hell do you know about it?”

“I know that you already love her. And if anything happens to her, you’ll be ripped to shreds whether you’re in a relationship or not. Whether she’s your wife, whether she’s your girlfriend, whether she’s a friend who lives a thousand miles away who you see only once a year. You’re in love with Brandy. Anything happens to her, and you will be devastated. You say you don’t want a relationship, and that’s fine. But do you really think that’s going to save your heart?”

“I did not ask you to come in here and psychoanalyze me.”

Devin took a sip of his drink. “No, you didn’t. But that’s what I’m doing.”

“Really. You? Do we really want to have this conversation? Seems to me you’re the one who ran far and fast. Hell, you want to talk about climbing under rocks? You climbed under the biggest rock of all, hid away from the whole goddamn world, not just Ellie.”

“I did. And I got the fuck over it. And you know what? My life is better for it. You’ve been carrying the wrong baggage. You’re not afraid to love her. You’re not even afraid to lose her.”

Ronan leaned back, the words like daggers.

“At least not so much that it scares you away. You’re not afraid of love. You love me. You love Ellie. You love Reggie. You haven’t backed away from Saint’s Angels or asked any of us to. And you love Brandy. Deeply. And that’s not going to change.”

Ronan felt his spine tingling. He wanted to get up. He wanted to walk the hell away. He didn’t want to hear this. Devlin was edging around something—he didn’t know what, but it felt dangerous. And yet he couldn’t help but say, “What the fuck is your point?”

“You’re not protecting your heart from falling in love and having it broken. You’re already in love. You’re punishing yourself for Michelle’s death by staying away despite love, thinking that will hurt less. But you know it won’t.”

Ronan said nothing.

“It wasn’t your fault, Ronan. You were a kid. You didn’t know what your father would do.”

“He told me that he would take care of it. He told me he’d get rid of her, but I didn’t believe him.”

“And why would you have? Why would you have thought that your father would actually kill the girl you loved? Get rid of her? That sounds like he’d try to pay her off, make her go away. You couldn’t have known. You couldn’t have even suspected. In hindsight, you’ve got perfect vision. But back then, you couldn’t see a thing.”

“Don’t,” Ronan said. “Just don’t.”

“It’s not me that shouldn’t. It’s you. Don’t do this, man. Don’t second-guess choices you made when you were younger, when you had no reason to believe that your father would do anything and when you didn’t have the ability to fight back to stop him anyway. It’s not your fault. Quit punishing yourself. Because guess what, by punishing yourself, you’re punishing Brandy too, and she sure as hell doesn’t deserve that.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ronan said, pushing back from the table, the scrape from his chair so loud that the other patrons turned to stare. He stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. Going to go drown my misery in a whiskey by myself. Thanks so much for this talk. I didn’t ask for it. And you’re wrong. I’m not punishing myself.”

“Whatever you say, man,” Devlin said. He lifted his drink, swallowed the rest of it, then stood as well. “Call me if you need to talk. If not, I hope you find your answers. We’re all rooting for you. But you’ve got to walk this path alone.”

And then his friend turned and walked out of the bar, leaving Ronan standing there feeling lost and hollow. He glanced around and saw everyone staring at him. His hand went to his temples, and he rubbed.

Then he turned and went out the back door to the alley. He started walking, leaving his car behind as he walked the four miles to his house. And all the way, he tried to remember what Michelle looked like. But he couldn’t do it. He had photographs of her. God knew he saw her in his dreams, but trying to conjure the real her in his mind, the way her face lit up when she talked, the animation of it? He couldn’t do it.

She wasn’t real to him anymore. She was a portrait of a girl. A snapshot in time. He’d loved her, and he’d failed her. Her and their child. And as he walked toward his home and the life he lived alone, he brushed away a tear and told himself that he was doing the right thing.

The only problem was, he wasn’t sure he still believed that.