Willow
willow
E very step felt like walking to the gallows. Ronan was vibrating at my side, not bothering to hide his disdain and hatred for Vanessa. If my dad or Lydia noticed, they didn’t say anything. Dad was too busy talking about work to talk about anything else.
Vanessa met my gaze across the table and smiled. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. The top of her low-cut blouse fell forward, exposing the generous curve of her fake breasts. I glanced at Ronan, old insecurities rising inside me.
Daniel always checked her out, always made a point of mentioning how good she looked. But Ronan…he just looked angry. He didn’t tear his eyes away from her face. He didn’t waver, even when she pressed her arms against her breasts, pushing them together more.
“So, Willy,” Vanessa said, drawing Dad’s attention. He stopped mid-sentence and turned her way, apparently done with his story.
I couldn’t help but think if I’d done that, he would’ve gotten upset at the interruption.
“How long have you and Ronan been together?” she asked.
Ronan shifted in his chair, and I rested my hand on his thigh. It felt like marble beneath my palm, and I swallowed thickly. I’d never seen him so upset before.
“A year,” I rasped.
“Wow. A whole year.” She laughed again. “Can you believe that, Dad?”
“It’s certainly an accomplishment,” he said, taking a sip of his wine.
“Is it?” Lydia asked absently. “Vanessa and Grant have been together for—what? It’s been nearly ten years.”
Ronan grumbled something under his breath, something I couldn’t make out. No one paid him any attention, though.
“Ten years is definitely a bigger accomplishment,” Dad agreed. “Anyone can last a year. But ten? That’s a big deal.” He turned toward me. “You wouldn’t understand. You were only with Daniel for a few years?—”
“A week, a year, ten years, fifty years, it doesn’t matter,” Ronan growled. “Time doesn’t matter when you’re spending your life with the person you love.”
Dad’s dark brows rose as he chuckled. “Quite poetic, Rohan?—”
“Ronan,” I corrected, barely holding in a groan. “You know his name, Dad.”
“Sorry. It was a slip-up.” He tapped my arm dismissively. “Anyway, I saw Daniel a few days ago. He looks great—he’s been working out a ton, so he’s quite muscular now.”
“Not as much as Ronan.” Vanessa laughed. “But he’s getting there. Do you work out much?”
“Most days,” Ronan gritted out.
“And do you work out with him?” she asked, turning her gaze to me. She flicked it over my body, lingering on my midsection.
I wasn’t big , but it was obvious I didn’t work out. My thighs touched, and my stomach was soft—quite the opposite of her. But my body had always been the one thing I never loathed. There were other aspects of myself I couldn’t stand, but never my body.
“She doesn’t need to,” Ronan said, turning his attention toward me. “She’s perfect.”
“Yes, of course,” Lydia murmured, her words already slurring together. “But imagine how much better she’d look if she lost—what do you think, dear? Thirty pounds?”
“Enough,” Ronan snapped, pressing his hand on the table. “That’s enough.”
Everyone blinked at him. My heart was in my throat as I stared at the white tablecloth. Tension fell over the table, thick and uncomfortable.
It was too quiet, too silent. I didn’t know what to do, what to say to break it up. I cleared my throat, my mind racing to find something to do to shift the conversation back to safe territory.
“My house was broken into,” I blurted. Dad blinked.
“What?” Dad chuckled. “It was not.”
His words hit me like a fist to the stomach. I swallowed hard, the familiar burn of shame and disbelief rising in my throat. I should’ve expected it. I always did. But it didn’t make it hurt any less.
“It was,” Ronan said, his voice dark.
“Why?” Lydia asked, her confusion clear and real. “You have nothing. Why would anyone want to steal from you ?”
My throat tightened. “I don’t know,” I rasped. “It was random, I think.”
“We’ve had a string of burglaries in town,” Ronan explained. “ was unfortunately a victim of that.”
Dad scoffed. “I take it you’re new in your position?” he asked. I turned a horrified look toward him.
“What?” I breathed. Ronan’s body was tense at my side—I could feel him vibrating, like any second he was going to leap out of his chair, and after that, I wasn’t sure what would happen.
“I’ve been Sheriff for three years,” he said tightly, and Dad laughed again, the sound condescending.
“And you haven’t caught this guy yet? You must not be very good.”
I gaped at him. How could he say that? How could he think that? Ronan was amazing at his job. He was fair, and protective, and loved this town.
I opened my mouth to say as much, but Vanessa cut me off. “Your life is just so exciting,” she said with fake cheer. “You always have a story to tell. Doesn’t she, Dad? Always something.” My throat turned to sandpaper. “How have you managed to put up with it for a whole year, Ronan?”
She smiled at him, but his lips didn’t twitch. “I’m not putting up with her,” was all he said.
“Right.” She smiled. “Of course not. But you have to admit her…what’s the word? Dramatics are a bit much, don’t you think?”
Dad chuckled again. “That’s the truth. She’s always told stories,” he said, tapping my shoulder. “Are you sure this isn’t just another one of your made-up tales?”
Ronan slammed his hand against the table, the glasses clinking together. “She didn’t make it up. Someone really did break into her house. And if you ever bothered to call and talk about her life, maybe you would’ve known this already. Instead, she’s having to sit here and prove that her trauma is real.”
No one said anything. Lydia sipped her wine, Vanessa leaned back in her chair like a queen watching a show, and Dad stared at Ronan as if he’d lost his mind. Everyone watched him like his anger was totally random, like it was unwarranted.
“She hid in the fucking closet,” Ronan hissed. “She saw the man just a few feet from her?—”
“Were you there?” Vanessa asked skeptically. “We’re serious when we say she’s always been dramatic. I mean, she packed up her life and moved across the country on a whim. What else has she said or done on a whim? What lies has she told?”
Ronan didn’t say anything else, he just stared at her. “We should go,” he finally rasped, turning toward me. “We should leave. This is—this dinner is bullshit.”
“Ro—”
“Sweetheart, let’s go.”
“Now, wait a second,” Dad said, putting his hand up. “I haven’t seen my daughter in?—”
“And whose fault is that?” Ronan shot back. “This is the first time you’ve stepped foot in our town.”
“Well, if Willy came to visit us more often, we wouldn’t have to be here,” Lydia mumbled. Ronan’s jaw tensed.
“,” he whispered. “Let’s go.”
“You’re really going to allow some guy to speak for you?” Lydia scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“He’s not some guy,” I said softly. “He’s my boyfriend.”
“Is he?” Vanessa muttered. I gripped the edges of my chair, waiting for her to just say it, to tell everyone. But she never did. “I think your boyfriend is ready to leave. You need to be a good little girlfriend and do as he says.”
“Does he boss you around all the time?” Dad asked, glaring at Ronan.
“Only when she’s unable to speak for herself,” Ronan shot back.
“She can speak,” Lydia chimed in. “She just did.”
Ronan’s throat bobbed. I felt him getting antsier and antsier. With a deep breath, I stood. My knees wobbled and my hands shook. My breathing was shallow and harsh, but I stared at everyone.
“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” I croaked. Ronan wasted no time tossing money on the table, grabbing my hand, and all but dragging me out of the restaurant.
As soon as we were outside, he rested his hands on my face and pressed a kiss to my lips. He kissed me like our lives depended on it, like I was his lifeline, his oxygen. Like he was mine.
My hands tangled in his shirt as I dragged him closer to me, feeling every ounce of love he poured into that kiss. Tears filled my eyes as he pulled away.
“I hate them,” he said roughly. “I hate how they speak to you. I hate how they make you feel. I hate the games they play. I hate it all. I don’t want you to deal with them anymore—I don’t want you to feel like you have to be around them anymore.”
“They came all this way?—”
“I don’t care,” he said, shaking his head. “They’re awful to you, baby. You deserve so much better.”
I took a deep, shuddering breath. “We can make it two more days,” I said softly. “We can do it.”
His eyes flicked between mine, the muscle in his jaw feathering. “Fine,” he finally growled. “But the second they pull shit like this again, we’re out.”
A smile, the first one of the night, pulled at the corners of my mouth. “Thank you for protecting me,” I whispered. He pressed a kiss to my lips again, then led me to his truck.
“You never have to thank me for that, baby.”
As I slid into the seat, that smile never left my face. It was the worst dinner of my life, but with him by my side, it didn’t seem so bad. Their words didn’t land so hard, because he was there to absorb their blows.
It was the first time in my life anyone had ever proved that they were on my side. It was the first time anyone had ever protected me from them . And all it did was make me fall a little bit more in love with him.