Chapter 58
Chapter Fifty-Eight
RONAN
Lily doesn’t let go after throwing herself into my arms. Her arms stay locked around my neck, her face pressed against my chest. She’s trembling, her entire body vibrating with leftover adrenaline and emotion from whatever happened in that meeting.
My hand moves slowly up and down her spine, feeling each shaky breath she takes.
“I can’t believe it worked.” Her words are muffled against my shirt. “Whatever Tom put in that envelope … the look on Beverly’s face.” She laughs, it sounds choked. Is she crying? “When I walked in there, she was so sure she’d get what she wanted. That she’d take everything I’ve worked for.”
I dip my head and press my lips to her hair. “But she didn’t?”
She gives another one of those choked laughs.
“No, but she tried.” Her arms tighten. “God, do you know how many times I’ve thought about telling you something good?
When I graduated college. When I got my teaching license.
My first class. All these moments I wanted to share with you, and you weren’t …
” Her voice breaks. She sniffs. “You weren’t there. ”
The admission hits me hard, and guilt twists in my chest. I understand exactly what she means. Every certification I earned while I was inside, every new skill I mastered, every small victory … they all felt hollow with no one to tell.
“I got into the habit of writing letters.” She doesn’t lift her head, and her voice comes out thick.
“The ones you saw. Things I wanted to tell you. About my students, the books I’d read, everything really.
I never sent them but …” She pauses to take another shaky breath.
“But you’re actually here. And I don’t know how to … ”
She doesn’t finish the sentence. She doesn’t need to, because I get it. Seven years of carrying all our words inside, and now we’re standing here, and neither of us is quite sure how to let it out.
Having her in my arms is both familiar and foreign. Part of me wants to run, to get in the car and drive until I hit a state line. But the bigger part, the part that’s been starving for this, wants to hold on to her and never let go.
“We should probably move.” It’s all I can think of to say. “Half the school board is probably watching us from the window.”
She laughs a little, the sound watery, and her arms tighten instead of letting go. “I can’t. Not yet.” Her voice drops, turns vulnerable. “Is that okay?”
The question carries more meaning than just standing here. She’s asking permission to hold on. To need this. To need me.
“Yeah.” I wrap my arms around her more securely, pulling her closer. “It’s okay.”
We stand there while cars pass by and clouds build overhead. When she finally eases back, her eyes are red-rimmed, but her smile is real. She swipes at her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“Can we go back to my place?” The words come out quiet, hesitant.
“Yeah.”
I don’t move until she lets me go. First, she unwinds her arms from around my neck, then she takes a small step back, letting her hands fall to my chest and smooth down my shirt. I cover her hands with mine, and squeeze. She gives one final sniff, then steps away.
Unlocking the car, I open the passenger door for her.
By the time I get to the driver’s side, she’s already buckled in.
The drive to her apartment passes in silence.
There’s nothing awkward about it. In fact, it’s oddly comfortable.
Every time I glance over at her, she’s watching me, eyes tracking over my face.
Whenever our eyes meet, she smiles, and the desire to run fades more.
Inside her apartment, she moves to the kitchen, shrugging out of her coat and tossing it over the back of the couch as she walks.
“Coffee?”
“Yeah.” I follow her, the comfort from the drive receding, replaced by uncertainty.
What is happening between us? Is this the start of something new, or is it closure for something old?
I watch as she goes through the motions of measuring beans into the grinder, turning it on, the quiet whir of the machine. She knows exactly how I take my coffee without even needing to ask.
I turn away, the weird domesticity of the moment hard to watch, and look around the living room. It’s no different from this morning, yet …
When she touches my arm, I startle before catching myself, and take the mug she hands me. She doesn’t say anything, crossing to the couch and sitting down. I take the armchair opposite, giving her space to decide how this goes.
“I keep thinking about what you said in the factory yesterday.” Her voice is quiet.
“About why you pushed me away back then, and trying to protect me from watching you die.” She traces the rim of her mug with one finger.
“All these years, I thought … I thought I wasn’t enough. That you decided I wasn’t worth it.”
“Lily—”
“No, let me finish.” She sets her coffee down. “I need you to understand something important.”
My muscles tighten, and I brace myself for what’s coming.
“When I stepped between you and Dan on Saturday, it wasn’t just instinct. It was a choice. My choice.” Her eyes hold mine. “Just like loving you was my choice, and why we’re here now is also my choice.”
Before I can figure out how to respond, a key turns in the lock. Lily’s head snaps around, just as the door swings open and Cassidy walks in.
She stops when she sees us sitting there, taking in the scene.
“You better have a good reason for why you’re not answering my texts.” There’s no real heat in her voice. Her eyes move between us, assessing what she’s seeing. “I’ve been trying to reach you for the past hour.”
“Oh! I forgot I turned my phone off when I went into the meeting.” She looks around for her coat, and takes her cell out of a pocket. “Everything is fine.” She grins. “I still have my job.”
“Yeah?” Cassidy drops into the other chair, making herself comfortable. “What happened?”
A knock at the door interrupts Lily’s reply. She frowns, and gets to her feet. When she opens it, there’s an older woman standing there, with the same eyes as Lily, and the same stubborn set to her jaw.
“Mom?”
“You’re not answering your calls.” It’s not quite an accusation. “I’ve been worried about you. I know you had that meeting today.”
“We just got back.” Lily moves aside to let her in. “Beverly backed down.”
“We?” Her mom walks into the apartment, spots Cassidy first and offers a smile. Then her eyes find me. “Ahh, I see.”
“Mom, this is Ronan. Ronan, this is my mom.”
Her gaze moves over me. I get the distinct impression I’m being evaluated for threat level, history, and future intentions all at once.
“Lily was about to explain what happened,” Cassidy says into the charged silence.
Lily settles back onto the couch. “Ronan’s neighbor gave me an envelope right before we left to go to the school.
I didn’t look inside, but I did catch a glimpse when Beverly opened it.
There were photographs inside. I’m pretty sure they were of her when she was younger.
Apparently, she didn’t always have the stick up her ass that she has now.
Beverly changed her mind about pushing for me to be let go the second she saw them. ”
“Wait.” Cassidy frowns. “You were at Ronan’s place.” She looks at me, and I can clearly see her replaying the conversation we had in her mind.
Lily’s mom studies her daughter, then me.
“You look better.” That isn’t what I was expecting her to say. “Than you did in that courtroom, I mean.” Her voice carries no judgment.
I don’t know how to respond to the way she’s looking at me, so I keep it simple. “Thank you. I’ve had a long time to figure things out.”
“He is better.” Lily’s voice is firm. “We both are.”
Her mom’s expression softens when she looks at her daughter.
“Yes, I can see that.” She looks at Cassidy. “I think we should leave them alone. They’ve got a lot of years to catch up on.” She leans down to kiss her daughter’s cheek. “Just be careful with each other this time. You’re not kids anymore. Whatever you decide to do from here, do it right.”
Cassidy stands, but pauses at the door. “I meant what I said, Ronan.” Her eyes lock on mine.
“Fix this. Really fix it. Because if you hurt her again, prison will look like a vacation compared to what I’ll do to you.
” The threat is delivered calmly, matter-of-factly, and is all the more effective for it.
“Understood.”
When we’re alone again, Lily lets out a breath. “Well, that was …”
“Yeah.”
She stands up, and walks over to me. “They’re both going to hover for a while. Be overprotective. Probably drive both of us crazy.”
“I can handle that.” I meet her eyes. “If you can.”
“I can handle anything.” Her smile turns soft. “As long as you’re honest with me, and not trying to protect me from the ghosts that haunt you.”
“They’re still there, Lily.” I don’t want to lie to her. “The ghosts. The damage. All of it. It’s part of who I am.”
“I know.” She moves closer. “But this time we face them together. No more pushing me away because you think I can’t handle it. You don’t get to make all the decisions for both of us.”
The words are an opening, an offering of a future I never thought I’d get to have.
She reaches out and takes the mug out of my hand, sets it down, then crawls onto my lap. One hand curves over my jaw, and she presses her lips to mine.
“So, where were we?”