Sunday, April 2nd #2
“I didn’t let him get away with his bullshit.”
I remember pushing him. Not backing down when he tried to wave it off.
“Exactly,” she says, like a proud parent.
“But we had a huge fight.” I frown. “And then he ended things. Is that what I’m risking every time I try to get to the bottom of what’s going on in his head?”
She grins knowingly. “Okay, but did he open up and then you fought? Or did someone just happen to accuse him of still loving his ex? And didn’t someone also suggest he should ‘move on’ from what his mom did to him?”
My face burns. So Ronan told her about that, too.
“Yeah,” I say, voice small. “I should’ve handled that differently.” I wince, remembering the way I twisted the knife right when he’d finally let his guard down.
“Look, Cat, I’m not an expert. But I do know Rony. And…” She hesitates. “I can relate to him. My childhood wasn’t great, either. We bonded over that. I understand him in ways other people can’t. So let me just say this, okay?”
She glances over briefly, then back to the road.
“When Ronan opens up, it’s hard for him.
Really hard. He’s making himself vulnerable in a way that terrifies him.
You can’t take that lightly. Even when you're mad, or hurt, or frustrated—especially then—you’ve got to learn how to step back from that heat.
It doesn’t mean you don’t get to feel what you feel.
You should. But when Rony tells you about the dark things in his head, you can’t attack him for it or you risk reinforcing what he’s learned: that it’s not safe to express how he feels. I know it’s complicated, but…”
She groans, struggling for words. “What happened to Rony is heavy. And him not opening up to you? That’s not about you.
It’s not about how much he loves you, or trusts you, or how safe he feels with you.
It’s conditioning. It’s fear and sadness.
It’s years of learning to survive by keeping it all locked up.
He’s only just now learning how to leave survival mode. ”
She pauses.
“Your life’s been pretty consistent, right?”
I nod.
“Yeah. His hasn’t. Not even close. And it takes time to adjust. He’s still learning. You can’t ask him to run when he’s just barely learning to walk. I know he’s almost nineteen, and sure, in a lot of ways he’s a man. But in this—this emotional stuff? He’s still just a baby. And Cat? He’s scared.”
There’s a painful lump in my throat. “That… Honestly, Randi, I never… I never thought about it that way.” I swallow, shame rising in me like a tide. “I just thought he didn’t trust me. Or that maybe he didn’t love me as much as I’d hoped.”
Her gaze sharpens. “You thought he didn’t love you?”
I nod. “Yeah, I… I guess I’ve got my own baggage. Stuff that played into those fears and—”
Miranda laughs, almost like she’s had a realization. “Rony is hyper-independent. He’ll die before asking for help. And you are…” She trails off. I can tell she doesn’t want to offend me.
But I nod. “Codependent,” I finish for her. “Exactly. I keep trying to tune in to him, to understand what he’s feeling. I worry about his mental state all the time. I dig and dig because I have this constant need to make sure he won’t abandon me.”
“And all that does is make Rony withdraw more and more,” she says gently. “Leaving you chasing after safety that feels just out of reach.”
I blink. “Have you studied psychology?”
Her laugh is light. “No. I barely scraped through high school. But I read a ton. Oof,” she groans. “That definitely complicates things.”
“You think?” I deadpan.
She giggles again. “I’m a lot like Rony in that way. Hyper-independent. But hey, tuning in to him isn’t bad. It’s only bad when—”
“When I sacrifice my own well-being in the process,” I say. “Yeah. I’ve been reading about that too.”
Miranda nods. “Okay, well, it doesn’t sound like you’re asking for a therapy session, so I’ll wrap this up.
Rony loves you. He wants to be with you.
He and I are just friends. The reason he trusts me with his dark side is because he knows mine.
And trust?” She shrugs. “Honestly, it’s too strong a word.
He only shares because I don’t give him a way out.
I’m just an annoying pest who won’t leave him alone until he talks. ”
I nod. But she’s still left out one huge part.
“So… if he loves me, if he wants to be with me, why did you two have sex two days ago?”
Her eyes flick to me for the span of a heartbeat. “Because I took advantage of his vulnerability,” she says, voice quiet. “I knew you two were broken up. And I won’t lie, I did want to see if there could be something between us.”
She exhales.
“We were at my cabin. He was talking about how he didn’t think real happiness was in the cards for him. That he didn’t think he’d ever measure up to what you deserve. That it’d be safer if he was alone. I told him he deserved to be happy. And… I made a move.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to erase the image.
“He couldn’t finish,” she says.
My eyes fly open. I stare at her, unsure I heard right.
“He wasn’t really with me, Cat. Not emotionally. He was just… going through the motions. Like he used to do when he was fourteen. He was trying to sedate himself with sex. I don’t blame him. But he couldn’t finish. Because he didn’t actually want it. He didn’t want me. He wants you. Only you.”
I sit frozen, her words heavy and hollow in my chest.
Miranda opens the glove box, pulls out a pack of tissues, and offers them to me. It’s only then that I realize tears are streaking down my cheeks.
She gives me a small, warm smile. “You know, when he was in Tennessee, I asked him flat out why he didn’t talk to you about his worries. About his grandma. His dreams. All of it. Wanna know what he said?”
My throat is constricted, so I just nod.
“He said your love for him was so pure. That you were whole and unbroken. Not stained like him.” Her voice cracks.
I sit in the heavy silence for a moment. “Do you think Saoirse would be mad if we didn’t pick up the cake and drove straight back to the ranch so I can find Ran and talk to him?”
Ronan
“Gotta be honest here, Ran, when you said you were gonna talk to Cat last night, I didn’t think you meant the animal,” Shane says, biting back a grin.
Steve chuckles. “You know Ran and those cougars.”
I roll my eyes so hard, it actually hurts. “Wow, guys, you should consider turning Murphy’s into a damn comedy club and starring as the headliners.”
Tori giggles. “I’d ask what you did to piss that cat off so much, but then you’d be forced to ask me which one I meant.”
I nod slowly, lips pressed together. “I see Shane’s rubbing off on you. Shame. I really liked you, Tor.”
They laugh, and I even manage my usual half-smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes.
They don’t know that I barely slept. That I spent the hours in bed turning over every single thing that has gone wrong, trying to figure out how I ever became the guy who deserved them.
If I’m being honest, last night couldn’t have gone worse.
Those couple minutes between Cat spotting the thing behind me and my grandpa landing the perfect shot—I swear I felt the air disturbance from the bullet speeding past my head—stretched on forever.
I just stood there, locked in a staring contest with that fucker, praying Cat was doing exactly what I told her to do: get in the damn house.
She did. But I didn’t hear much of anything until my grandpa hollered at me to stand still.
All I could focus on was that wildcat baring every single tooth, snarling, inching closer like it had already decided I was the perfect damn midnight snack.
And here I thought Miranda was the perfect prey.
Turns out, it was me. Mountain lions usually ambush their prey from behind, so while I worried mostly about Cat, I’m certain it had its sights on me.
Needless to say, I’m eager to finally get the chance to talk to her. My plan is to get back to the house where everyone’s gathering for lunch and pull her outside with me to talk. We can eat later.
But when the four of us walk inside, Cat is nowhere to be seen. She isn’t with her family, either, when they join us ten minutes later, faces sun-kissed from what I’m gathering was a nice hike on my grandparents’ ranch.
It’s when my dad, grandpa, Seamus, Thomas, and Elias seat themselves around the table that my stomach officially drops. Everyone’s here, except Cat… and Miranda.
“Morai?” I say quietly while plates are passed around.
She turns her gaze to me, smiling softly. “What, baby boy?”
“Have you seen Cat?”
“I sent her on some errands with Miranda.”
I almost choke on my breath. “What?”
It comes out way louder than I meant it to. The entire table goes dead quiet.
My grandma’s expression doesn’t change except for that sly twinkle in her brown eyes. “I sent Cat and Miranda to pick up the cake and the flowers,” she repeats, even though we both know I didn’t need her to repeat anything. I needed an explanation.
“Uh-oh,” Shane mutters.
I don’t spare him a glance. I flex my jaw. “Morai, mind if we have a quick talk?”
I don’t wait for an answer. The chair scrapes loudly against the floorboards as I stand, then march out of the dining room.
“You’re in trouble now, Mom,” my dad chuckles.
“Oh hush, Frankie,” she chirps, then follows me into the living room where I’m already pacing. Three steps to the left, stop, turn, three steps to the right. Repeat.
She stands there with an innocent look that we both know she has no business wearing. She’s fucking meddling. Again.
“Morai,” I growl. “What are you doing to me?”
“I’m not doing anything to you, Ran. I sent the girls on an errand because those two need to be forced to spend some time together without you fogging up their brains with… well, you.”
This is such a bad idea. “What do you mean?”
“They need a good talk.”
I stop pacing, exasperated. “Okay? About what?”
“About you, obviously,” she says like duh.