Chapter 29Ronan
29
Ronan
R onan took a small, hesitant sip of the lukewarm black coffee, grimacing at the burnt taste that lingered on his tongue. He watched with mild amusement as Eden fiddled with the jukebox on the wall, her eyes narrowing in concentration. In typical Eden fashion, she settled on "I Wanna Be Your Dog" by The Stooges. Only Eden would opt for punk rock at nine in the morning.
She dropped herself on the shiny red vinyl booth and grabbed the large sugar canister from the sticky formica table. She poured a healthy amount of sugar into her coffee and took a long pull from her coffee cup. Her nose wrinkled at the taste of the bitter liquid.
"This coffee tastes like sock water," Eden said loudly, taking another sip. Someone cleared their throat at the front of the table: an older woman with dyed red hair in a retro-style red dress and white apron, her arms crossed over her chest. Eden swiveled her head to face the head of the table and choked on her coffee, erupting into a fit of coughing.
"It's the best sock water in all of the world. Like Emma Watson's socks made this coffee,” Eden said sheepishly. She took another sip of the coffee and smiled with a thumbs up. The waitress popped her gum in response, then flicked open her notepad. She placed her pencil pointedly on the paper.
"I've been making coffee in this diner before you were even a twinkle in your parent's eyes," she replied, her gum popping between her teeth. If that were the case, you would have thought the coffee would have tasted better, but he wasn't about to be the one to tell the sassy waitress. Ronan scanned her name badge, which displayed the name Lola.
"Well, I think this cup of joe is the best I've ever had, Lola." Ronan delivered the compliment with a disarming smile, causing Lola's cheeks to flush slightly. Her demeanor shifted as she turned her eyes towards Ronan.
"Well, thank you, handsome. At least one of you has some sense," Lola replied, batting her eyelashes in Ronan's direction. Her gaze then shifted to Eden, and her expression hardened. "What can I get you, Pookie?" Lola pointed the question at Ronan as if Eden had suddenly become invisible to her.
"Can we have two stacks of blueberry pancakes and a side of hash browns, please? Thank you so much, Lola." Ronan smiled his best winning smile and handed her the menus.
"Of course, darling," she replied and walked away with a pep in her step over the checkered black-and-white tiled floor towards the counter stretching along one side of the diner.
"Pookie? Seriously?" Eden said in disbelief, shaking her head. "I saw her use instant coffee," she mumbled under her breath as she looked out the diner's window. She was lost in thought as her eyes traced the sandy landscape outside. The midday sun hung high in the cerulean sky, its rays casting patterns on the Formica table.
"Can we talk about last night... The nightmare?" Eden's voice was soft and filled with concern. Ronan paused, momentarily struggling to recall the dream's details from the night before. His night terrors were such a regular part of his life that they had almost become mundane, a nightly occurrence. His recurring night terrors were always fragments of that accident in Yemen, haunting him ruthlessly. The terrifying dreams were so frequent that it was surprising when he didn't have one.
What he didn't forget was Eden comforting him, her soothing embrace, the warmth of her body, and the way she held him so gently. Suddenly, a realization hit him: He had slept soundly through the night after she had comforted him. That was pretty rare for him, given how often his night terrors would wake him up. But somehow, being comforted by Eden had made them a little easier to handle.
He picked up the salt shaker from the diner table, its glass body cool against his fingers, and gave it a gentle twirl. It spun on its axis, causing it to spin with a satisfying rhythm before it finally touched down, bouncing lightly on its base. Eden's hand came down gently on top of the shaker, bringing it to a halt. Ronan's gaze lifted from the salt shaker to meet Eden's, her raised eyebrows silently questioning his attempt at distracting himself from the question.
"Ro, I have told you my deepest secrets," Eden said, her gaze unwavering as her deep blue eyes locked onto his. "I can tell something is weighing on you. There are moments when I see it, this weight pressing down on you. Please, tell me the truth."
Ronan considered his options, as he always did. He did carry the weight of the accident, the memory etched so deeply into his brain that it cast shadows on every recess of his unconscious and conscious mind. These past few weeks, something had shifted. Eden had begun to occupy more and more of his thoughts, gradually replacing the haunting memories. Her laughter, jokes, and the way she touched him overpowered the relentless ghosts that seemed to follow him. They were still here but less all-consuming.
He felt the weight of it all on his chest, like he needed to open up and share what was on his mind. But a wave of fear hit him, pulling him back. What if Eden saw him differently once she knew the truth? What if it changed everything between them? His thoughts were all over the place, swirling like a storm in his stomach. But then Eden reached for his hand, like she could sense the inner workings of his mind.
If there was anyone to talk to about this, she was the one. She was a rock standing steady in a sea of tempestuous waves. She had survived unthinkable things, not only survived but persevered and thrived.
"You can tell me anything. I mean anything,” Eden said gently and squeezed his hand. He summoned up all his courage, then let an intake of breath fill his lungs. His eyes fluttered closed for a second, time to take the plunge. Here goes nothing.
"My last job, I was placed in Yemen to cover the insurgency that was raging there," he began, his eyes momentarily distant, reliving the memories. "I had spent five grueling months there, making some real progress. I managed to secure an interview with a whistleblower within the Yemen military, The fact that I even got that interview was nothing short of a miracle. It was unprecedented." He paused, his gaze fixated on a point in the distance as if he were transported back to that very moment.
"I was traveling back to our base with my cameraman after we recorded that incredible interview. We were ecstatic, just casually walking through the desert. I remember Bobby, my usually serious cameraman, was actually smiling for once."
Ronan felt his pulse accelerating. He could feel the invisible hands of panic tightening their grip on his chest. He fought against the suffocating feeling by taking a deep, measured breath through his nose, feeling the cool air enter his lungs, and then exhaling slowly through his lips. Eden's gentle thumb tenderly traced the contours of his fingers. He focused intently on the sensation, letting it divert his attention from the rising tide of anxiety.
"I don't remember how it exactly happened. I just remember the sheer force of the explosion and how the sound jolted through my chest. It felt like a huge fist slammed into my chest and stomach.” His free hand instinctively rested over his chest as if he could still feel the reverberations of the bomb detonating deep within him. Its echoes still shook his entire being, his very soul.
"The blast sent me backward. Sand flew into my eyes and mouth. I was so disoriented. My ears were ringing so loud that it drowned out everything else. I can't say for sure how long I laid there. It might have been just 30 seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. I remember hearing a scream ringing out. I didn't even realize that it was coming from me." His hands were slick with sweat, and he resisted the urge to wipe them off. Eden was still holding his left hand. Her eyes welled with tears but stayed steady on him.
As he continued, his voice trembled with the intensity of the memories. "I came to after that. I forced myself to sit up," he recounted, his eyes tearing up at the memory. "And there, about 30 feet away from me, was Bobby. His leg... It was gone, just torn away, and the sand around him was covered red with his blood. There was so much blood." A shudder coursed through Ronan as he revisited the sheer panic. He thought Bobby was dead.
"A thousand thoughts were running through my mind. I had to do something. Anything. So I grabbed the belt from my pants and used it as a makeshift tourniquet, wrapping it just above his injury. We were close to camp, so I ran and got help." He paused, nausea churned in the pit of his stomach, a nervous sweat still covering his body. Ronan blinked away the tears that threatened to escape and used his free hand to wipe the clammy sweat from his hairline.
"Bobby survived, but... he lost his leg. He had a beautiful baby girl waiting for him back home." Eden released his hand, and panic flew through his chest. He knew this would change everything between them. He feared deep down that Eden may not want to deal with the emotional trauma he carried. She had been through enough already. She deserved to be surrounded by people who were carefree and happy. Not someone whose recklessness had caused another person irreparable damage.
The weight of responsibility bore down on him. It was his fault that Bobby had lost his leg. He should have been more vigilant when traveling in a desert that he knew had the risk of landmines. The danger had been drilled into his head before he was stationed in any new territory. Yet, he had let his guard down, making the call to travel in a known landmine-laden area without an escort, and the consequences were devastating. As the seconds ticked by in silence, Ronan couldn't help but wonder if Eden saw his recklessness, if she recognized that he was to blame for Bobby's suffering.
He had anticipated this moment, expecting her to walk to the diner's front door and call a car to pick her up. But to his surprise, Eden made her way to his side of the booth instead. She slid in next to him and wrapped him in a hug.
"I'm so relieved that you and Bobby are okay,” she whispered as her hands moved soothingly across his back. Ronan could feel the tension in his muscles slowly beginning to ease under her gentle touch, and he released a breath.
Eden hadn't left. She was comforting him. Again. Part of him was relieved that she was comforting him. If someone as beautiful and amazing as Eden could see something worth comforting in him, he wasn't entirely worthless. Yet, another part of him couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt gnawing at his conscience. He didn't deserve her reassurance. He was responsible for the accident and Bobby's injuries. He should have been more cautious.
"It's been more than eight months since the accident, and I'm still dealing with the aftermath," Ronan confessed, his voice filled with the weight of those long months of struggle.
He continued, "I've been diagnosed with Post-traumatic stress disorder, and I see a therapist every week. The panic attacks and night terrors are still a part of my life." Lately, the panic attacks had started to ebb, and Ronan didn't want to overanalyze why. Yet, deep down, he had a strong inkling that the woman sitting in front of him played a significant role. Her brightness filled his mind like a beacon of light in the darkness that had shrouded him for so long.
"The sour candy helps. It grounds me when I am having a panic attack. Breathing exercises, too." Ronan continued. Eden gently pulled back from their hug, her eyes intently scanning his face, her hands resting on his forearms.
"You are incredible, Ronan. I cannot even imagine what it was like to go through that. You saved Bobby's life,” Eden's eyes still shimmered with unshed tears as she hugged him again as if she couldn't quite believe he was sitting before her. Her arms encircled his chest in a tight embrace, and her body seemed to mold perfectly against his, fitting like a glove. Ronan leaned back slightly from her grip, gently placing his hands on her arms and pulling her away from him. He needed to tell her the truth, no matter how badly it hurt.
Ronan's voice trembled as he admitted, "No, it was my fault we were walking through that desert. We should have waited for an escort, but I was the one who pushed Bobby to go on this interview without one. I didn't want to scare the informant." His fingers ran anxiously through his hair. "How is it fair that Bobby lost a leg, and I walked off without a scratch?" The weight of guilt pressed heavily on him, making his chest feel heavy.
"Escort or not, it was not your fault. You didn't plant that bomb." Ronan wasn't convinced; he was responsible for keeping his staff safe. He had been sloppy, the excitement of the interview had clouded his head.
"I put the story over safety," Ronan said with conviction, his arms crossed over his chest.
"I don't agree," Eden responded with an equal sense of conviction, her arms mirroring Ronan's. "There was no way to predict danger like that. Navigating and knowing where the landmines are would be almost impossible. Your job is dangerous, and I think everyone in your field knows there's a risk of life-threatening things happening. It's devastating, but it's not your fault," she declared firmly, the unwavering resolve evident in her voice. Ronan felt a jolt deep in the pit of his stomach, realizing she cared enough to assure him.
Somehow and somewhere over these past few weeks, the documentary had taken a back seat to their relationship. He realized that he hadn't thought about filming for the documentary. Instead, he had been recording moments of their time together because he wanted to remember every single moment with her.
"Do you keep in touch with Bobby?"
"No, I'm still working through everything on my end. There's a lot of guilt I'm trying to process." Ronan said weakly, his hand rubbed across the back of his head. Bobby had tried to call him multiple times in the last few months, but when he saw Bobby's name flash on the screen, a wild sense of panic hit Ronan's heart. His body would freeze, and his heart would race like a hammer pounding against his chest. Bobby had left voicemails, but Ronan couldn't bring himself to listen to them. Guilt gnawed at him, and he felt awful that he hadn't spoken to Bobby since returning home. He still needed time to process everything fully and forgive himself before speaking to Bobby.
Pancakes were suddenly placed on the table. Ronan looked down at the stack, momentarily lost in thought.
"I think you are the bravest person I have ever met," Eden said in a low voice as she put her head on his shoulder. That vice around his heart loosened slightly, his breaths coming out a little easier.
How is it possible that even after he told her his deepest secret and bared his soul, she was still sitting here with him? It was hard for him to believe someone like Eden, who radiated confidence and resilience, could see bravery in him. It felt like the furthest thing from the truth. He turned his head slightly to look at her, his eyes meeting her sapphire blue ones. There was something in her gaze that made him feel understood.
The more time he spent with Eden, the more it hit him—he’d been coasting through life, always hovering over the brake. He’d lived cautiously and held back, even before the accident in Yemen. His whole life had been shaped by wariness, avoiding risks unless they were tied to his job.
Ronan had used his work as a cover, convincing himself that any daring move was just part of the job. It let him feel a rush without having to truly own the choices that came with it. It was his way of chasing adventure while keeping the rest of his life in a comfortable, controlled box.
Eden lived life with this fearless energy that made Ronan see things differently. She’d sparked something in him, something that made him question the walls he’d built around himself for so long.
He grabbed the syrup bottle and passed it to her by the handle, their fingers brushing for just a moment. When she took it, her eyes met his.
"You are the greatest person I have ever met," Ronan whispered softly. Eden's smile brightened, and a soft blush spread across her cheeks. She looked away shyly and dumped a generous amount of syrup on her pancakes.
They stayed tucked together on Ronan's side of the booth. He used to roll his eyes at couples who shared a side at restaurants, but now? He got it. With Eden so close, her leg almost touching his, it felt like they were in their secret world where no one could find them.
"Hey, why is your pancake stack bigger than mine?" Eden asked, around a mouthful of pancakes, her fork pointing accusingly at his stack. There were two extra pancakes on his plate. He looked over at Lola, and she winked from behind the counter.
"Oh, come on!" Eden huffed and stabbed her pancake with her fork. "One little comment about the coffee and I'm chopped liver. By the way, you are a total suck-up! You were totally batting your eyelashes at Lola."
"Don't hate the player. Hate the game. I will be enjoying my earnings to the fullest extent." Ronan stabbed into his own stack of pancakes, cutting into the stack eagerly. For the first time in ages, he felt lighter, like some invisible weight had finally lifted off his shoulders.
"The game is rigged. You flashed those pretty green eyes, and Lola was toast." She stabbed her fork into Ronan's stack. He blocked the jab of her fork with his own fork.
"Ah, I don't think so, Miss Percy. Forks off my stack, don't be a sore loser,” Ronan teased her gently. Eden huffed in mock annoyance as she took a sip of her coffee. Ronan plopped one of his pancakes on her plate, and she beamed happily at the addition.
"What an absolute gentleman. You are a beautiful man inside and out," Eden said, then her eyes widened slightly, like she couldn't believe she had said that out loud. She proceeded to shove a big bite of the pancake in her mouth. Ronan looked at her with a slight smile and hummed.
"I am inclined to agree," a nasally voice replied. Ronan looked up and saw Lola grinning at the edge of the table. She winked as she placed the check at the end of the table and then sashayed back to the kitchen.
"Should I challenge her to a jello wrestling contest? This is unbelievable. Is she trying to steal my...?" Eden trailed off, her cheeks still flushed. Her gaze drifted down to the table, avoiding eye contact.
"Your?" Ronan grinned, leaving the statement hanging in the air. Her friend? Boyfriend? His stomach flipping slightly at the thought. Did Eden see that possibility there? He knew that he did. He could see being with her easily, more diner dates. He could cook her dinner every night, and she could pick the music on her vinyl record player. She could even trip on the rug every night if she wanted.
"Uh... companion? Groupie?" Eden said faintly, digging through her purse rapidly. She slapped a fifty from her wallet on the table.
"Groupie?" Ronan mumbled.
"Ready to hit the road?" She didn't wait for a reply. "Great, let's go." She stood up quickly, so quickly that her hip collided with the chrome corner of the table, causing the plates and the coffee cups to bounce on the table. She muffled a curse, holding her hip more in frustration than pain based on her reaction. Ronan stifled a laugh at her clumsiness.
"Wait a minute," Ronan said as he stood up in front of her. He gently placed his hand on her hip where she had bumped into the table. His fingers moved in slow, soothing circles over the ridge of her hip bone, and she drew a quick breath at his touch. Eden looked up at him, her gaze wandering over his face. He leaned forward slightly, his face coming hazardously close.
"Let me go grab Lola's number before we head out," Ronan said with a throaty laugh. Eden rolled her eyes and slapped his arm softly. "You are such a piece of work!" she hissed at him.
“And you are adorable when you are jealous," Ronan said as he ran his fingers through the ends of her hair. She trembled slightly at the sensation. His smile widened at her reaction to his touch. This attraction definitely was not as one-sided as he initially thought.
"Not jealous," she mumbled, pulling away from his touch. She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the diner's exit.
"Tell those Starbucks baristas I say 'Hi!'" Lola called out cheerfully.
"Don't worry, I will!" Eden said as she pressed on the door handle with a little more push than necessary.
"Thank you for the exceptional service!" Ronan chimed in, waving to Lola as the waitress blew him a kiss. Eden stomped over to his motorcycle and shoved her hot pink helmet over her head as she grumbled, "The audacity! Starbucks? I am a Dunkin's girl through and through."