Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
The first time Ronan avoids my touch, I think I’m imagining it.
The second time, I know I’m not.
It’s clear in the way he moves to the side, his fingers twitching before he shoves them deep into his pockets. His shoulders lock when I get too close, and he won’t meet my eyes for more than a second before shifting his gaze away.
He’s hiding something, and I can’t figure out what. I don’t understand it.
For weeks since my birthday, we’ve spent most evenings wrapped around each other under blankets in the factory.
We’ve whispered to each other, our bodies tangled together.
We’ve learned each other in ways that felt like we were building toward a future.
And now he’s behaving as though none of that ever happened.
He makes excuses for why I can’t come and see him. He no longer spends his free time in the library. He’s never in the factory when I ignore his refusal to see me, and show up anyway.
I don’t know where he’s going, or what’s changed, or why he’s holding himself in a way that looks like he’s trying not to fall apart. But I do know something is very wrong.
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were as chaotic as ever at home, and I wasn’t able to find an excuse to slip away and check on him.
But today, the day after Christmas, is quieter, and with the weather taking a turn for the worse I’ve almost convinced myself that something could have happened to Ronan.
My parents didn’t want me driving anywhere with heavy snow on the ground, but I argued that I wanted to see Cassidy for a couple of hours since I wouldn’t get to see her again until after New Year.
I need to see Ronan, make sure he’s okay, and give him the Christmas gift I’d bought him—a new hoodie, some thick socks, and two notebooks.
I suck in a sharp breath when I get out of the warmth of my car, and wonder if I can convince him to come and sit with me inside it for a while.
Snow crunches underfoot and my breath curls in front of me.
It scares me that I’m going to turn up one of these days and find him frozen to death, and for the hundredth time, I think about telling my parents about his living conditions.
But Ronan had made me swear not to say anything, and I don’t want to break my promise to him, even when he’s treating me like he wants nothing to do with me anymore.
Reaching onto the back seat of my car, I grab the flask of coffee and sandwiches I made before leaving, then set off across the parking lot.
The factory is silent inside, except for the wind rattling against broken windows as I make my way through the debris-covered hallway to the room Ronan has made his home.
He’s standing near the far wall, the dim glow of the moon carving shadows across his face.
His stance is odd, slightly off, leaning to one side. His breathing is slow and shallow. In the dim light, I can see the sweat beading his temple, which makes no sense because it’s freezing in here. He’s staring out of the window, yet his gaze seems unfocused, pinned to nothing.
He doesn’t turn when I step inside.
“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice is even, emotionless.
My stomach flips. “Since when?”
There’s a beat of silence before he replies. “Since now.”
I take a breath, and set down the flask and bag of food. “I brought you some coffee.”
“I don’t want it.”
I swallow, bracing myself for an argument. “Ronan—”
“Fucking go home.”
“I have something—”
“Get the fuck out of here. I. Don’t. Fucking. Want. It.”
I flinch. He’s never spoken to me this way before. I move closer to him, and his entire body reacts. Tension rolls through him, shoulders straightening, jaw clenching. He forces his weight to one side, leaning away from me, but there’s a slowness to his movements that makes alarms ring in my head.
“Are you hurt?”
His head jerks toward me, and I catch a wild look in his eyes before his lashes lower. But it’s too late, I’ve already seen the glazed quality in them.
“I said go home.”
“Ronan, talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Every instinct I have is screaming that there’s something wrong. “That’s bullshit.”
Emotions flash across his face—anger, frustration, pain, and something else that I can’t quite read. His mouth twists, and when he next speaks, his voice is harder.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Lily. You’re fucking exhausting. You show up here night after night, acting like I need you. I can’t even fucking breathe without you hovering. Do you ever fucking stop?”
The words are a slap I didn’t see coming. “That’s not what I—”
“Yes, it is.” His voice is colder now, meaner, yet there’s still that weird flatness underneath.
“You love the way it makes you feel, don’t you?
Playing the savior. Keeping the poor, broken boy warm at night.
Bringing me food so you can sleep peacefully in your bed knowing you’re a good person.
You think that makes you different? News flash, it fucking doesn’t.
It makes you worse than the people who just fucking ignore me. ”
I shake my head. “Ronan, I never—”
“You did. You do. You think you see me, but you don’t.
You just see what you want to see.” His eyes flick to the flask on the floor, and his lips twist before he laughs.
“Look at you. Standing there claiming I’m wrong, when you’ve brought a doggy bag of scraps like I’m some stray fucking dog you’re trying to keep alive.
I don’t need it. I don’t fucking need you. ”
I can’t breathe. There’s a vice around my throat, crushing down. My eyes burn with the need to cry, but I force the tears back. I will not cry in front of him. “You don’t mean that.”
His laugh is derisive. “Don’t I?” He shakes his head, the movement erratic and jerky. A tremor runs through him before he stiffens his spine. “Go home, Lily. Go play pretend with someone else.”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to reach him. All I do know is that he’s locking me out, and I’m standing in front of a version of Ronan I don’t recognize.
His fingers move at his sides, curling into fists and then loosening. The movement is subtle, restless, as though he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. A muscle ticks in his jaw. His weight shifts again, that same careful redistribution.
He hasn’t looked at me properly since I walked in.
I try to swallow past the lump in my throat and step forward, setting down the gift I’d wrapped near his blankets.
He moves, his body swaying toward mine for just a second before he catches himself.
His hand brushes my coat as I straighten, so light a touch I almost miss it, then he’s backing away, putting distance between us.
“My parents are taking me out of town tomorrow. We always visit Mom’s sister for New Year.”
“Good for you.” He sounds completely disinterested, back to staring through the window again.
“I just …” I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. My heart is hammering against my ribs, each beat painful. “I wanted you to know.”
He nods, without turning.
I hesitate, waiting for anything else, but that’s it.
That’s all he gives me. No final words, no last look.
Just a sharp sigh and a flex of his fingers before he shoves them back into his pockets.
I turn, forcing myself to leave, my pulse a dull roar in my ears.
There’s no movement behind me. He doesn’t ask me to stop, and he doesn’t follow me out.
The ache in my chest gets stronger the farther away from him I walk.
When I push the door open and step outside, the wind cuts through my coat, numbing my face, my fingers, everything but the pain inside me.
I don’t remember the drive home. I’m on autopilot while my mind replays his words. I sit at a red light, staring at nothing. The light turns green. I don’t notice until someone honks behind me.
When I finally pull into the driveway, it takes four attempts to open the front door because my fingers won’t work properly. I kick off my shoes and almost run to my room before my parents can see me. Once inside, I sink onto the bed, my body aching in ways I can’t explain.
But I don’t cry. I just stare at the ceiling and wait for the pain in my chest to ease.
It doesn’t.
Hours slip by, or maybe just minutes. I don’t know anymore.
My limbs are heavy, my head full of static.
Eventually, exhaustion wins and my eyes slide shut, but sleep doesn’t bring relief.
It brings dreams … nightmares where I’m standing outside a glass-walled room, while Ronan slowly freezes to death inside and people walk past ignoring my screams for help.
When I wake up, the light outside is gray. Mom is moving through the house, her voice floating in from down the hall as she talks to Dad about the trip to her sister’s. Their voices and laughter fill the house. Normal sounds, normal conversations.
But nothing is normal. Nothing will ever be normal for me again.
I drag myself out of bed, and take a shower before heading downstairs for breakfast. I smile where needed, and nod at the right moments.
Mom glances at me over her coffee cup. “You feeling okay, honey? You’re quiet this morning.”
“Just tired. I didn’t sleep very well.” It’s not a lie.
She studies me for a moment, then nods. “Well, you can always nap while we’re on the road.”
It’s easier once we’re in the car because I’m in the back seat and can pretend to read. But I can’t take in any of the words on the page. All I can see is Ronan, standing there in that factory, breaking my heart with his words.
I reach into my coat pocket for my earbuds, and my fingers brush paper. I frown, pulling it out and unfolding it. My stomach drops when I recognize the handwriting.
Some stories don’t get happy endings, Phare. Some people aren’t meant to be saved. Don’t waste your light trying to guide this shipwreck home.
A choked sound escapes my throat, and I press my hand over my mouth to muffle it. My eyes fill with tears, vision blurring as I read the words again.
I don’t understand this. I don’t understand him. I don’t know when he did it or how he did it. But at some point, between all the words, and all the ways he broke me, he slipped this into my pocket.
A final note.
A final goodbye.
My fingers crumple the paper, then smooth it out again.
In the front seat, Mom and Dad talk about the New Year’s Eve party my aunt is planning, not noticing that their daughter is quietly falling apart on the back seat.
I fold the note carefully, and tuck it back into my pocket. And then I let the tears come, while the world rolls past the window, taking me far away from Ronan.