Chapter Nine
RONAN
Present Day
ITALY
“You’re on a walk?” Lucio’s voice crackled with disbelief. “It’s nearly midnight, you’re in Tuscany, and you’re… on a walk?”
“Yes,” I murmured, shifting the phone closer as if his exasperation might reach me better. “I couldn’t sleep.”
A sigh came from his end. “You’re anxious about seeing Nina at her show.”
I stopped, leaning against a stone wall, the worn coolness of Florence’s ancient streets seeping into my spine. “Do you think she hates me?”
“I don’t think she could ever hate you, Ronan.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I hope you’re right,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.
Lucio paused, as though considering something. “You sure you’re okay being out there alone?”
“I will be. Thanks for picking up, Luc.”
“You’re my brother. I’ll always be by your side,” he said, and I could hear the raw honesty in his tone.
After saying goodbye, I slipped my phone into my pocket, releasing a breath.
The stillness of the night wrapped around me, the ancient buildings casting long shadows in the dim street lights.
I let my gaze wander over the arched windows, the cobbled streets, and the faint hum of distant traffic mingling with the scent of espresso lingering in the air.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I stepped forward and felt my shoulder brush against someone. I staggered back, blinking in surprise.
I caught a glimpse of her before I even registered my own footsteps slowing.
Nina. The name slipped from my lips in a breath, a whisper that barely reached her.
She stood there, dressed down in sweatpants and a cropped top, her hair pinned up hastily.
She looked tired, drawn. And most of all, she was beautiful.
“Nina.”
She froze, her eyes locking onto mine with a mix of shock and something colder, something hardened.
“Ronan,” she said, and the word sliced through me, flat and hollow.
She turned to leave, her movements brisk, but instinct took over, and my hand reached out, catching her arm, pulling her back.
“I—I…” Words stumbled on my tongue. Her gaze was like ice, yet all I could think of was how to make her stay. “I’m proud of you,” I whispered, barely louder than a breath.
Of all the things I could say, that wasn’t what I’d planned. But it was what came out.
What the fuck was I doing?
Her eyes narrowed, her shock shifting to a guarded glare. “What?”
I swallowed, my voice stronger this time. “Your show… everything. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, her voice edged with restraint, her eyes never lingering or meeting mine.
“Nina, I’m—” I tried to find words that might touch her, reach through those five years, but she pulled her arm free, stepping back as if to put as much space between us as possible.
“I’m not doing this, Ronan.” Her voice cracked, laced with exhaustion and something sharper—pain, maybe, or the ghost of it.
“Please—”
“Please, what?” Her voice rose, and there was anger now, rising like a wave. “Five years of nothing. No calls, no messages. Just… silence.” She shook her head, her eyes glassy and fierce. “You walk back in, spending millions for my fashion show, expecting… what?”
I could only look at her, feeling each word like a stone sinking into my chest. “I had to,” I said, voice raw. “I had to leave, Nina.”
She scoffed, turning away, her shoulders squared. “You chose to leave. You chose to break my heart. You chose to ruin us.”
I stood there, her stare forcing me to swallow the words caught in my throat. She looked at me like she was staring at a stranger—a cold, unyielding stare I’d brought upon myself.
“Nina,” I began, the word barely a breath. “I’m… I’m sorry.” It sounded empty even as I said it, but I couldn’t think of anything else, any words that would undo the pain I’d left her with. “I know I don’t deserve anything from you. I don’t expect… I don’t expect forgiveness.”
She laughed then, a sharp, bitter sound that cut through me. “Forgiveness? That’s what you’re asking for?” She took a step back, her arms crossing over herself, like she needed to protect herself from whatever I’d say next. “Do you have any idea what that heartbreak did to me?!”
I clenched my fists, my gaze falling to the ground, unable to face the anger and hurt blazing in her eyes.
“No, I don’t. I mean… I can’t. I… Fuck.” My voice was rough, cracking under the weight of my guilt.
“I made a mistake. I know I hurt you, Nina. I know I don’t deserve even this—standing here, talking to you. I know I don’t.”
Her eyes narrowed, that guarded, distant look hardening even more. “You don’t get to say that now! You don’t get to come here and just… admit to hurting me, like that makes it better!”
“It doesn’t make it better.” The words left me hollow. “I know I don’t get to walk back in and expect anything from you… closure, kindness… nothing. You have every right to hate me.”
She blinked, something vulnerable flashing in her eyes before her expression closed off again. “I used to tell myself it would be easier if I hated you, but hate would mean I didn’t… forget it.” Her voice wavered, her jaw tight as she fought to keep her composure.
It didn’t even matter that she was shouting at me, that everyone could see and hear. The fact that she was talking to me at all was enough. More than I deserved.
“I never walked away without looking back. No matter what I was doing, I always looked back. I never stopped caring or loving you.”
Her eyes glossed over, her gaze distant as she looked away. “You’re right about one thing. You don’t deserve anything from me. Goodbye, Ronan.”
Her words, her finality, felt like the last nail in the coffin. She turned and walked away without looking back, and this time, I couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.
When she disappeared around the corner, I forced myself to stumble back to the villa.
The moment I was alone, I pulled out my wallet, fingers shaking as I reached for the old photo of her I’d carried with me all these years.
She was laughing in it, her eyes bright and full of life—a version of her that I’d crushed.
As I stared at the picture, a sob tore its way up my throat, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
I cried because I missed her, because she was still so heartbreakingly beautiful, because no matter what I’d told myself, I knew I loved her.
And most of all, I cried because of the years of pain I’d seen in her eyes tonight, the brokenness that lingered there…
I put it there. She’d spent years trying to pick up the pieces I’d left behind.
No matter how hurt I was, I knew I deserved every ounce of the anguish I felt now.