Chapter Two
RONAN
Present Day
NEW YORK CITY
Grief was something I never expected but knew existed. I lived a good life. I was honest, loyal, compassionate, and rarely bothered people. So, when it came knocking at my door five relentless years ago, I was torn apart, broken beyond repair, and utterly lost.
My parents were my guiding stars. They did everything to ensure my siblings and I had the best life.
Even in their deaths, they made sure we were well taken care of.
Losing them was like having the ground ripped out from under me.
I thought it couldn’t get worse, but then it did.
My sister and my grandparents were all stolen away by the same merciless disease—cancer.
Each day, I sat in a state of shock, drowning in a sea of questions.
What had I done to deserve this?
Why did they deserve it?
Why did they have to leave me?
The agony of it all consumed me, and I let go.
I lost my grip on reality and my sense of self.
I lost my will to keep fighting. I lost everything that made me, me.
In losing that, I lost the love of my life—the one girl who had always stood by me.
She was my rock, my confidante, and the only person who truly understood the depths of my soul.
She had always helped me, lifting me when I was at my lowest, and though I did whatever I could behind the scenes to make her life easier, it would never be the same as having her wrapped in my arms.
The warmth of her embrace, the comfort of her presence—those were the things that gave my life meaning.
It was her laugh, that unique, musical sound I could pick out in any room, which made every moment lighter, brighter.
Her smile—genuine and full of life—had a way of making everything seem a little less complicated, even on the hardest days.
She brought sunshine to every space and situation, as if happiness simply followed her around.
And no one else had that uncanny knack for putting me in my place, challenging me in ways no one else ever could.
It was as if she could see the real me, even when I couldn’t.
No matter how deeply I was grieving, I shouldn’t have pushed her away.
She gave up her whole life for me, sacrificing everything, and in return, I left her with nothing but heartache.
It destroyed me every single day. It had been killing me for five long, excruciatingly lonely years.
The regret and the guilt are constant companions, whispering relentless reminders of what I had and what I foolishly let slip through my fingers.
What an amazing birthday gift this memory was.