Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
LILY
The grocery store doors slide open with a quiet hiss, and I force myself to step inside.
I probably should have waited until after the board meeting before coming out in public, but my kitchen is empty, and I can’t hide in my apartment forever.
I grab a basket and keep my head down, moving through the aisles and trying to avoid other shoppers.
If I stay quiet enough and don’t make eye contact with anyone, hopefully they’ll leave me alone.
It's a futile hope, because this is a small town, and everyone knows everything that happens here.
Conversations die when I pass, only to resume in whispers once I’m far enough away that I can’t hear the words, just the sound of their voices. Kate’s mother sees me in the fresh fruit aisle and actually turns her cart around, wheeling away as though my presence might contaminate her.
That thought makes me laugh quietly. The hypocrisy is strong, considering the things her own daughter gets up to.
I try not to let it get to me, and focus on the list of essentials I need to buy.
Bread. Coffee. Enough food to eat for at least a couple of days. Each item is a reminder that life goes on, even when everything else is falling apart.
“Well.” Beverly Walsh’s voice cuts through the quiet. “I didn’t expect to see you showing your face in public.”
My stomach drops, but I don’t turn around.
“I must say.” Her tone drips with artificial concern. “Getting caught up with him again seems particularly unwise, given your job role.”
The threat isn’t even subtle. I will my hand not to shake as I reach for a carton of milk, and tell myself not to respond to her. That’s what she wants. Don’t give her the satisfaction.
“The school board takes the behavior of our teachers very seriously.” Each word is a carefully aimed arrow. “Especially those who are working with impressionable young minds.”
“Did you practice that speech in front of your mirror, Beverly?” Okay, so apparently I’m not going to stay quiet after all. “Or does your self-righteousness come without any effort at all?”
She clicks her tongue. “Such hostility. Although, I suppose that’s to be expected, given your associations.”
I whirl to face her, rage burning through any self-control I had. “You don’t know a damn thing about me. Or him.”
“No?” Her smile is sharp. “I know enough to question whether someone who encourages violence in broad daylight should be trusted around children.”
“That isn’t what happened, and you know it.”
“Do I?” One perfectly sculpted eyebrow rises.
“The entire town witnessed what happened outside Wilson’s.
Just as they saw your little … display outside the cocktail bar.
” Her lips curve into a cruel smile. “Tell me, Ms. Gladwin, what are you teaching those children about consequences, judgment and morality?”
The tenuous grip I have on my temper shatters.
“You really want to talk about morality? Okay. Why don’t we talk about how you’ve spent years deciding who deserves redemption in this town?
Or the way you weaponize your position on the school board?
In fact, why are you even on it? You don’t have any kids of school age anymore.
There is no reason at all for you to be present there.
” I wave a hand when her lips part. “Don’t bother answering me.
I know the answer. You enjoy destroying lives because it feeds your God complex. ”
Color stains her cheeks, creeping up from her collar. “I protect our community.”
I snort. “You protect nothing but your own ego.” All the anger and pain I’ve bottled up for years comes pouring out.
My voice rises, carrying along the aisle.
“Where was your protection when he was seventeen and homeless? When he was sleeping in abandoned buildings? When he was starving? You didn’t give a fuck about protecting anyone then.
You only cared about appearances. Just like now. ”
“How dare you!”
“No! How dare you.” I’m shaking, adrenaline coursing through me.
“You stand there in your thousand-dollar shoes, passing judgment on people’s lives when you’ve never known what it means to go hungry or cold.
You have no fucking idea what it’s like to lose someone who’s drowning, or to watch how this town’s selective morality destroys the people who need the most help. ”
Beverly’s mouth opens, but before she can speak another voice cuts in.
“Is there a problem here?”
Ronan.
I was so focused on Beverly, I didn’t hear him approach. But here he is, standing to one side of us, radiating barely concealed violence. Beverly’s eyes narrow.
“Well.” Her lips thin. “I suppose this proves my point about your judgment.”
I whirl around, needing to escape, needing to get away from her and the air that’s been poisoned by her sanctimonious bullshit. I walk away.
“Lily.” Ronan’s voice follows me as I hurry down the aisle. “Wait.”
I ignore him, abandoning my basket on the nearest shelf, and keep moving until I’m outside. I reach my car before he catches up with me, but I don’t get the key in the lock fast enough. His fingers close around my arm, and he spins me to face him.
“Get off me!”
“No.” His grip loosens, but he doesn’t let go. “Not this time.”
“Haven’t you done enough damage?” I wrench my arm free, skin burning where he touched me. “Or did you come to watch the fallout and see how thoroughly you can destroy my life in real time?”
His jaw pops, muscle ticking. “That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” I laugh, the sound loud and shrill. The move sends a jab of pain through my lip, pulling the stitches. “You want to talk about fair? I’m about to lose my job. Everything I’ve spent years working for and building. And you have the nerve to stand there and tell me what’s fair?”
“I never wanted this for you—”
“Then what did you want, Ronan? Because I sure as fuck don’t know!
” Tears burn the back of my eyes, and I hate it.
I hate that he can see them. I hate that after all this time, he still has this power over me.
“I never knew. You never gave me the chance to understand what you wanted. You just decided for both of us that I couldn’t handle whatever truth you were hiding. ”
“Because you couldn’t handle it.” He steps closer, tension vibrating off him in waves. “You couldn’t handle watching me destroy myself, watching as I became—”
“Became what?” I despise the weakness in my voice. “You never even gave me a chance to try. You just shut down and pushed me away. You made me think everything between us meant nothing. Well, congratulations. You got what you wanted, Ronan.”
“Do you really think that’s what I wanted?” He takes another step, and I back up until I hit my car. The metal is cold against my spine. “Do you think I enjoyed hurting you?”
“Don’t!” I slam my hands against his chest and shove. He doesn’t move. It makes me even angrier. “Don’t act like you were protecting me. You were protecting yourself. Because that’s what you do, isn’t it? You run. You hide. And you push away anyone who dares to care about you.”
“I did what I had to do. I’m not going to apologize for it.”
“No!” I shove him again, harder, my palms stinging with the impact. “You did what was easy … safe. Because, god fucking forbid, you actually let someone in and see past those walls you built.”
“Easy?” It’s his turn to laugh, all sharp edges and brittle. “You think any of that was fucking easy? Watching you refuse to give up on me when you should have walked away? Watching you try to fix me?”
“I never wanted to fix you!” The words tear from my throat. “Don’t you get that? I wanted to love you! But you—”
Warm hands curve over my cheeks, and his mouth lands on mine.
Pain shoots through my lip, but the storm of other sensations pushes it aside.
The kiss isn’t gentle, it’s desperation and fury, and years of unsaid words.
His fingers tangle in my hair, tilting my head back as his tongue sweeps into my mouth.
My hands slide up his chest, over his shoulders, nails digging into his skin through his shirt.
I don’t know if I’m trying to push him away or pull him closer.
He tastes of coffee, and anger, and everything I’ve spent years pretending I didn’t miss.
My back presses harder against the car as he moves closer, one hand dropping to my hip, while the other buries deeper into my hair.
A sound escapes me, half-protest, half need, and he swallows it, kissing me harder, deeper, like he’s trying to steal every word I just hurled at him.
The pressure on my lips makes the stitches pull, and the sharp pain drags me back to myself.
I twist away. “Don’t!”
“Phare.”
“No!” My voice breaks again. “You don’t get to call me that. And you definitely don’t get to kiss me like that, and act like you have the right to touch me. To—” I swipe angrily at the tears spilling down my cheeks.
“I never stopped wanting to.” I almost miss his words, he says them so quietly. “I never stopped wanting you.”
“Then why did you send me away?” I can’t help but ask.
His lashes lower, veiling his eyes. “Because I couldn’t watch you try to save someone who didn’t want to be saved.”
“That wasn’t your choice to make.”
“It was the only choice I had!” His voice rises, and heads turn toward us in the parking lot. “I was drowning, Lily. And you kept trying to throw me lifelines I didn’t deserve.”
“That’s what love is!” I shove him again, tears falling faster. “It’s being there even when it hurts. It’s fighting when the other person won’t fight for themselves. It’s—”
“Is it watching someone you love destroy themselves?” His laugh is low and bitter. “Is that what you really wanted to do, Lily?”
“I wanted you to let me in. I wanted you to trust that I was strong enough to handle what you were dealing with. I wanted …” My voice wobbles, and I pause to take in a shaky breath. “I wanted you to believe that loving you wasn’t a mistake.”
He stares at me, and then his chest moves beneath my palm as he sucks in a deep breath. “I was dying, Lily.” His voice is quiet now. “I was dying, and I couldn’t let you watch that happen.”
The words twist something inside me. Another fucking metaphor. Another way of excusing the fact he pushed me away.
“So you made me watch you disappear instead, and let me think I meant nothing to you? That was the better option?”
“It was the only way I knew how to—”
“No!” I yank my car door open. “I can’t do this again with you.”
“Lily, wait.”
“No.” I slide into the driver’s seat, my whole body shaking. My lip is throbbing. I’m sure I’ve split a stitch. But I don’t want to take the time to check in the mirror. “Stay away from me, Ronan. I mean it. Just … stay away.”
This time when I drive away, I don’t look in the rearview mirror. I can’t. Because if I do, it might destroy the pieces of my heart I have left.