Thursday, June 22nd
Ronan
“What the hell? Whose car are you driving?” Shane asks as we walk out of Murphy’s together.
It’s one of the rare nights we closed the place down together.
Usually we tag-team it, switching off between shifts.
I take most nights to accommodate my class schedule while Shane handles most day shifts.
But tonight we were short on waiters. Summers are usually that way.
People get flakey, want to spend the balmy evenings anywhere but at work.
I get it. I’d much rather be at Shane’s mom’s beach house, hanging out with Cat, my friends and brother, than have some drunk assholes short me on tips or keep them from getting handsy with a girl.
But I can’t afford to act like a nineteen-year-old, can’t afford to blow off my responsibilities to have a grand ole time. Time to buckle up.
But getting to work the night shift with Shane was a nice little treat. I still prefer it when we work together. He’s been my best friend since we were kids, and honestly, one of the only people I trust with my life.
“Mine,” I grumble as I unlock the driver’s side of the white RAV4 I picked up today.
Shane stops walking. “What the fuck are you talking about? Where’s your Mustang?”
“I sold it.” I keep my tone neutral, steady, even though something twists hard in my chest.
He stares at me like I’ve just confessed to murder. “What? Why? When?”
“Because Cat’s having a baby and I can’t exactly strap a car seat into the back of a two-door Mustang,” I say matter-of-factly. “So, here I am. Driving this… toaster.”
“Dude,” Shane breathes, moving around the car slowly like it might bite him. “You really sold the Mustang?”
I nod once.
“Fuck.” His voice drops. He gets it.
It was a decision I knew I had to make. The Mustang wasn’t built for hauling around an infant, and we needed something…
practical—four doors, easy access, real trunk space.
Still, selling it felt like ripping off my own skin.
That car meant more to me than almost anything else I owned.
It was mine. My escape. The first thing I’d ever fought for and earned outright.
The one thing that didn’t come with strings attached or the expectation of pain.
“Plus, I needed the money. This’ll take a little pressure off.
Enough to breathe a little easier, you know?
” Not that I really do. Lately it’s like I’ve forgotten how.
Between the panic about becoming a father, figuring out how to support Cat, and the thousand ways I’m convinced I’m going to fuck this all up, I’m drowning most days.
Shane’s brow softens with empathy. “You shouldn’t have to sell your soul to breathe.”
I shrug, not trusting myself to respond to that.
“Who’d you sell it to?”
“Some guy from New Hampshire. Picked it up this morning.”
Shane blinks. “Ran, why didn’t you tell me? You’ve been in love with that car since we were kids. Hell, I think you begged my dad to sell it to you before you hit puberty.”
“I was thirteen. Definitely had hit puberty by then,” I say, trying for some levity.
Shane’s right. I was obsessed with his dad’s car the moment I saw it in their garage, collecting dust. On my sixteenth birthday, I scraped together every ounce of courage I had and asked Shane’s dad if he’d sell it to me.
Made me negotiate, too. Not that I had much leverage or really anything to offer. A couple grand I’d saved from bussing tables. I drained my savings and promised to work for free for months. But the car was mine.
Shane huffs out a laugh. “Still. I wish you’d said something.”
“It happened fast,” I say, trying to brush it off.
“Guy contacted me the second I listed it. No haggling. He just paid what I asked. Now that I think about it, that probably means I should’ve asked for more.
By the time I realized he was serious, he was already on his way.
Showed up this morning looking like a kid on Christmas.
I swear he had a hard-on just from looking at it; damn near moaned when he sat in it.
” I wince at the memory. The look on that guy’s face still makes my skin crawl.
I kind of wanted to punch him. Or maybe beg him not to drive off. Or both.
Shane winces. “Fuck. That had to hurt.”
“Like a bitch,” I mutter. “I almost didn’t let go of the keys. Thought about snatching them back and slamming the door in his face.”
“You could’ve,” Shane jokes gently, then falls silent for a second. “But… I get it, man. You’re doing what you gotta do.”
I nod again, this time more slowly.
Shane studies the RAV4, then opens the passenger door and slides into the seat. “Honestly, it’s not the worst. Plenty of room. Great for, you know, hauling diapers and strollers and… existential dread.”
“You’re a dick,” I mutter, but I’m grateful for the grin that tugs at my lips.
We sit in silence for a moment, the weight of that truth hanging between us. Then Shane reaches over and pats the dashboard.
“You know what, Ran? Look at this as you leaving your past behind. The Mustang allowed you to get away. To run. No more running. This is a new start. New memories. Ones that will be worth a hell of a lot more. Ones that won’t give you nightmares.”
I don’t respond. I’m too busy trying to swallow whatever emotion just crept up and lodged in my throat.
“Fuck, Ran. I can’t believe you’re gonna be a dad,” he says so quietly it’s almost a whisper.
“That makes two of us.” I stare ahead, then huff a quiet laugh. “It’s weird. Yesterday, Cat was getting into the shower—”
Shane raises a suspicious eyebrow. “Where are you going with this?”
“Calm yourself down,” I say, rolling my eyes at him.
“Nothing dirty, okay? She was getting into the shower and I swear she wasn’t showing the day before.
But then, suddenly… there was this tiny bump.
Like she just popped overnight. And… I wouldn’t have noticed if she wasn’t standing there naked, but…
” I trail off, remembering the odd warmth that started in the center of my heart and pulsed through every inch of me.
Shane’s expression softens as he studies me. “Are you freaked out?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” I pause, searching for the right words. “I don’t know what to expect. But she’s so fucking beautiful, Shane. And those new curves? Fuck… I kind of like it,” I say, scrunching my nose like there’s something wrong with me.
But Shane nods. “I’ve always thought pregnant women were really sexy, too,” he says, surprisingly sincere. “It’s like the ultimate femininity, right? Soft, curvy, powerful. And when it’s your baby in there? That’s gotta mess with your head in the best way.”
Yeah, it really fucking does. But I’m not ready to admit that out loud. Not yet. Not when the universe has always found a way to fuck with me the moment I had something even remotely good in my life.
Shane chuckles. “I honestly can’t wait to get Tori knocked up.”
I laugh out loud. “You’re so full of shit.”
He shakes his head. “I’m serious, Ran. I want it all with her. I want to make her my wife, have a whole football team of kids. I want to grow old with her by my side and die surrounded by fifty grandkids.”
“Well, great, get started then so my kid can play with your kid.” It feels strange talking about Shane’s and my kids playing together.
Shane chuckles, but something in his face shifts and he sobers. “Actually… I’ve been meaning to show you something.”
He climbs out of the passenger seat and heads toward his Jeep. I follow him, then watch as he pops open the glove box. When he turns back around, he’s holding a small blue box.
“You’ve lost your fucking mind,” I say, staring at the thing like it might explode.
He swallows, then flips open the lid to reveal a diamond-encrusted ring, the smile stretching across his face half-nervous, half-giddy.
“I’ve been trying to figure out the right moment to ask her,” he says, his voice suddenly quieter. Reverent. “You think I’m rushing it?”
“I mean, I don’t think I have any right to tell anyone that they’re rushing anything,” I say with a quiet chuckle.
I look at the ring, then him. He’s holding the box like it’s the most precious thing in the world, and I realize he isn’t just holding a ring. He’s holding a future with the girl he loves.
I study him, his love for Tori practically tattooed on his face. Fuck, I still remember the moment I introduced them to each other… “That being said, no,” I continue honestly. “Not when it feels like this.”
“Thanks, man.” He closes the ring box before safely storing it in his glove compartment. “How about you? Any intention of asking Cat to become Mrs. Soult? Seems logical given—”
“The fact that she’s spawning my child?”
“Those weren’t the exact words I was going to use, but… yeah,” Shane laughs. “So?”
I exhale slowly, feeling the weight of that question settle in.
“The thing is… if I asked her now and she said yes, I’d always wonder if she only said yes because she felt trapped.
She’s having my baby, Shay. And her dad’s already made it blatantly clear that I should ‘make an honest woman out of Cat,’” I say, making air quotes.
“And Cat would probably think the same of me. That I’m only asking her because I feel pressured to. I don’t want that.”
I glance at Shane, seeking his understanding.
“If I ask her to marry me, I want it to be because we both want that future, independent of all the outside noise.”
He nods. “I get that.”
I lean back against the side of his car, staring up at the sky. “The last thing I wanted… want is to repeat history. And sometimes… it feels like I’m already on that exact same path. It scares me, Shay. It’s like even though I see myself barreling toward the edge, I can’t fucking stop it.”