Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rian
There aren’t many things in this world that scare me.
I’ve done too much for there to be many things I fear. But the one thing that truly frightens me is the thought of losing or disappointing the people I care about…most importantly, my son.
It’s all I can think about as I drive to Ashford to talk to Cillian.
What if this ruins the progress we’ve made?
What if he can’t handle the thought of me with someone else?
What if this, having Abbott, feeling again…loving again, is what makes me lose my son for good?
I don’t think I could survive that, survive disappointing him again in such a huge way.
His car is in front of the house when I arrive.
Tiernan’s is too, and I kill the engine, knowing at least the two of them are home.
I didn’t call first, didn’t want to delay the inevitable or open it up for them to ask why I was coming before I arrived.
This is a conversation that needs to happen in person.
I get out and head for the door. It’s down a long driveway, far back from the road and surrounded by trees much like the cabin Abbott and I were at—only this house is two stories, with enough room for all the boys and their partners, and Ash has a room here as well.
I make it up the second porch step when the door pulls open, Cillian standing there, the bangs of his brown hair hanging over his forehead the way it always does.
His blue eyes, that look so much like Moira’s, are a little wide and panicked, and just like our phone conversation, the first thing he says is, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
The sadness of it all, of what I let happen to us boils over, flooding my insides.
This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be. This is the fourth year my son has lived in this house while at school and his first thought is that something is wrong just because I came here. “Nothing is wrong. I’m okay. Healing nicely. I just need to talk to you.”
Ollie slips up beside him—smaller, with glasses, looking too sweet to hurt a soul, but a man who would do anything to protect my son.
And that’s why he’s standing next to him now…not that I would ever hurt Cillian physically, but he’s afraid I will hurt him emotionally, and he might be right.
“Okay…” Cillian steps aside, the two of them making room for me to come in.
Rory is on the couch, Shai with his legs over Rory’s lap, a video game controller in his hand and a bong on the table. They immediately hop to their feet—probably both a sign of respect and worry about why I’m here.
“What’s up, Daddy Rian,” Rory says, breaking the tension.
“Please, don’t call me that,” I tell him.
“You want a hit?” Rory nods toward the bong.
“I’m good. Sit back down. You’re good.”
Rory’s gaze shoots to Cillian, and without looking at my son, I know a silent conversation is going on between them—checking in, being the support system that Rory needed when they first met and that Cillian needed after Moira died.
“Is Tiernan home?” I ask.
“Upstairs with Dean. You’re here for business?” Cillian crosses his arms.
“No.” Fuck, this is hard. “Can we go somewhere to talk? Just the two of us.”
“Well, that’s not very nice. What if Bunny wants to go?
Or me?” On instinct, Rory and Shai, both slide closer to my son, making sure Cillian knows that if he doesn’t want to do this alone, he doesn’t have to.
It’s the kind of bond they have always shared, Rory even having his own nickname for Cillian’s partner.
“If that’s what Cillian wants, then you can, but it’s personal, something that’s important to me to share with my son.”
Ollie’s eyebrows pull together as he watches me with intense eyes.
“It’s fine,” Cillian says, then turns to Ollie. “I’m good, Kitten.” He kisses Ollie, nods at Rory and Shai, then signals to me. “Come on. Let’s go into T’s office.”
I follow my son through the living room, down the hallway, and through a door. Cillian closes it behind me.
“What is it, Dad?” That’s Cillian. He doesn’t tiptoe around the issue, wanting it all out on the table.
“I should have come here more often,” is the first thing that comes out.
“What?” He walks over, leaning against the desk.
“Here. To see you. You knew there had to be a big reason I’m here. I know I’ve fucked up, and I know we’ve talked about it, but I keep getting all of these reminders of how I failed you…and how I failed her too.”
“Then change it,” he says simply, and I can’t help but crack a small smile.
He’s right. I’m the only one who can do anything about this.
“When I was young…before Mom died…all I wanted was to be like you. You weren’t like Uncle Sloan.
You didn’t treat me the way he did Tiernan, and you didn’t treat Mom the way he was with Aunt Fia.
You were like this…I don’t know, beacon for what was right and wrong. ”
“Everything I did was wrong,” I remind him.
“Not with us. Maybe to the outside world, but not to the people you loved. It was…special being loved by you. I knew it. Mom knew. No one else would have taken the time to bring Rory home to take care of him. You were the one we called after his mom died and we needed help. You’re fair in a fucked-up world when most people aren’t…
and you know how to love…that’s why it hurt so bad to lose it. ”
Each and every word he speaks is like another knife stabbing into my chest, though each and every word is one I deserve. “I know…fuck, I know. But I’ve always loved you. I never stopped loving you.”
“I know that too. Just…let me get this out,” he says, pushing away from the desk and pacing the room.
“I can’t forget the past—the good or the bad—I can’t forgive you for hurting me, but I’m tired of the runaround.
From fucking both of us. We’re just talking in circles.
You’re sorry you rarely call and don’t come here, so fucking change it.
And I do the same shit. It took Shai needing you for me to call, and I still rarely do.
You were fucking shot, and I didn’t come see you.
We just need to stop talking about it and fucking fix it. ”
Jesus, this kid. When I’d told Abbott he was better than me, I wasn’t lying. I don’t know how I got lucky enough to have him as my son.
“With Ollie now…I get it more. I would lose my fucking mind if something happened to him. I would do a whole lot worse than you did when we lost Mom.”
“Don’t excuse the mistakes I made.”
“I’m not. You were wrong. You hurt me. You’re responsible for that, but I can know that and get it too…because I think…I think I love just like you. It’s just too fucking big, right?”
He does. We do. He gets that from me, and while I don’t ever want him to hurt because of it, I’m proud we share that trait. “Yes,” I answer.
“And that’s why you’re here right now? You met someone?”
I stiffen, gaze shooting to his, which is firmly on me. I don’t know why I didn’t expect him to know. Cillian is smart…he pays attention…and now he’s the second person to remind me of how similar we really are. Of course he would know.
“Yes,” I answer. “His name is Abbott.”
“He?” Cillian cocks a brow.
“Runs in the family, I guess.” I shrug. “I didn’t plan it. I didn’t think I could ever find space in my heart for someone again but…it’s just right. I felt it the first time I looked at him, though I didn’t understand it.”
“That’s how it felt with Ollie too,” he admits. “It was just right. How did you meet?”
“He’s a surgeon. I saw him when I was at the hospital, and I went back and, well, I followed him.”
“No shit?” Cillian asks.
“No shit,” I reply. “He caught me when he was walking to his vehicle…confronted me, much like Ollie did, I might add, and that’s when I was shot. I kidnapped him and brought him with me to the cabin, and it just…happened. He’s good, son. Better than me. Though she was too.”
“And Ollie is better than me. I think that’s always going to be true for men like us. And we’re lucky if we find someone who sees past all the shit and loves us anyway. He does?”
“Yes,” I answer again. “But it’s important to me that you know this doesn’t change who your mom was to me.
I will always love Moira. She was…everything good about me…
and then you both were. I love her, but I’m tired.
” I rub a hand over my face. “And so fucking alone. The pain is less when he’s there. ”
Cillian takes a moment to reply, maybe going over his words in his head. “Yeah, the pain is less when Ollie is here too. Mom would have hated you hurting and being alone.”
“She would have,” I answer honestly. “I wasn’t ready before, and I don’t think I would be ready now if it weren’t for him. But I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to think that diminishes what I felt for your mom.”
“I know.” Cillian walks over to one of the windows and looks out. I wish I could be inside his brain, know exactly what he’s thinking. “Would she have liked him?”
I smile. “She would. He’s got a big heart, like her. He loves classical music and going to the symphony…we have that in common. I’ve been thinking about opening a concert hall…bringing more music to the city, and I’m thinking of asking Abbott to help.”
He turns back to me then, and even from across the room, I can see the glassiness in his eyes. “She would love that…the music. Him sharing that with you.”
“She would,” I admit, then walk over to him. “I love you. And I’m so proud of the man you are…the way you love.”
He shrugs. “I get it from you,” he reminds me.
“I don’t think you would make the same mistakes as me, though.”
“You’re not wrong.” Cillian grins, and I do the same. “I can’t believe you have a boyfriend.”
“We haven’t put that kind of name on it.” I chuckle. “Boyfriend,” I test it out. “I feel too old for that word.”
“I can’t believe how queer we all are,” he jokes. “We’re like the gay Mafia. Bisexual Mafia? I think queer works better. Dean is gay, and so is Shai.”