Her words play over and over in my mind as I try to digest what she shared.
“He’s a good man.”
Closing my eyes, I curse every fucking breath I take because I may as well be dead.
Holding her, I inhale her scent and commit it to memory because all I’ve ever wanted was her happiness. If this man can offer that to her, then I have to let her go.
“Don’t be sorry. Ya did what I wanted—ye lived. That’s all I ever wanted for ye. For ye to be happy.”
She cries, never letting me go as I console her, ignoring this pain in my chest. If I tell her what I know, what does that achieve? Babydoll is happy. I can never give her that when I don’t know what true happiness is.
All I can offer her is pain. All I represent is our past mistakes—a past paved with bloodshed and lies. She will think about that every time she looks at me.
I love her more than life itself, which is why I have to set her free. I will carry this secret to my grave and never burden her with a choice because if she believes we’re blood—they’ll be no choice to make. She’ll live a happy and safe life without me.
Connor’s dying words come back to haunt me.
“Yer a leader. Lead with the compassion yer ma gave ya. And rule with the cruelty I taught ya because it’s the only way to survive in our world.”
Love makes you weak. It allows you to be human. Babydoll is collateral, and I refuse to allow my selfish needs to put her in harm’s way ever again.
“I wish…”
“Come now, we can’t change what’s done,” I say, not wanting to hear what I desperately want in fear I’ll crack and tell her the truth. I won’t be that selfish.
This is Babydoll’s chance to live a life away from me and away from the shame she feels for what we did.
“I know,” she whispers, still holding me. “It’s good to have you home.”
“Home?” I question. “Ye live here now?”
She gently pulls away, brushing her hair from her cheeks. “No, but my…fiancé does.”
Fiancé?
I just accepted her seeing someone, but engaged to be married…fuck.
However, I smile even though I’m secretly dying inside. “He’s a lucky lad. I’m happy for youse.”
She nods but doesn’t seem to buy it either.
An uncomfortable silence wedges its way between us, and I suddenly can’t breathe. The thought of another man touching her…I want to break every bone in his fucking body.
Babydoll tilts her head as if attempting to decode my silence. I know for this to be convincing, I need to push her away. I can’t have her near me. She represents everything I want but can’t have.
“Thanks for stoppin’ by. But I need to organize a few things,” I say, giving her a not-so-subtle hint that our reunion is over.
She nods, quickly wiping away her tears. “Of course. I’m sorry. Once you get settled, maybe we can catch up?”
“Catch up on what?” I question, folding my arms across my chest.
A range of emotions are coursing through me right now, and at the forefront is the need to destroy everything within reach.
She blinks, appearing stunned by my bluntness.
“We just did that, did we not?”
“I…sure, whatever you w-want,” she replies, fumbling over her words. “It was good seeing you.”
“Aye. Say hi to yer boy for me.”
She narrows her eyes, sensing my sarcasm. We’re suddenly transported back ten years where Babydoll and I could go from love to hate in the same breath. Some things don’t change, and some do—like Babydoll being engaged.
She nods and appears to want to say something but decides against it at the last minute. “Goodbye, Punky.”
“Bye, Babydoll.”
A gasp leaves her when I use that name, but she’ll always be Babydoll to me. She quickly exits while I force myself not to follow. That won’t achieve a thing.
I don’t know how long I stand staring at the open doorway, processing what she just shared. Time doesn’t seem to make a difference because my feelings for her haven’t changed. I still want her with my last breath.
But she’s moved on, and I need to accept that. Telling her the truth will amount to nothing. This is for the best.
So why do I feel like killing someone, preferably Babydoll’s fiancé?
Unable to deal with this right now, I decide to clean the place up a bit as I need to keep busy. It’s going to take months to get everything back to how it once was, but with nothing but time on my hands, I may as well start now.
Lost in my head, a dangerous place to be, I don’t realize I’ve got company. Thankfully, it’s only Cian, but I need to focus because I can’t make that mistake again.
“Need help?” he says, holding up a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a broom in the other.
“Thanks.”
But he instantly senses my bad mood.
“What’s happened?”
“Nothin’,” I reply, snatching the bottle from his grip. When I unscrew the lid and throw back a large mouthful, Cian arches a brow.
“Don’t give me that shite.”
“Ack, leave it alone, will ye,” I snap, turning my back on him.
But Cian won’t. “Stop this! I understand yer needin’ time, but don’t shut me out. Do ye know what we all went through? We were locked up with ya!”
“I doubt that.” I snicker, spinning around to face him. “I was the one behind bars. Don’t compare us because there is no fucking comparison!”
“We all tried everythin’ to help ya, but ya didn’t want us to. I felt fuckin’ helpless!” he argues, unable to stop his emotions. “Do ya know how that made me feel? I’ve been livin’ with this guilt for ten fuckin’ years! I would have traded my freedom for yours. In a heartbeat. But ye just left us…ya fuckin’ broke me.”
“I had no choice,” I say between clenched teeth.
“Bullshit! Ya could have seen me or written me back. But ya chose not to!”
“I never chose anythin’!” I scream, arms out wide. “Brody Doyle made me promise not to make contact with all youse! If I did, he’d kill the lot of ya, includin’ the twins. I needed to be gone, forgotten, to keep ya safe! Ya think I wanted to be alone, rotting in that cell? I would have given anythin’ to see ya. See all of youse!
“But I couldn’t. I was tryin’ to keep youse safe. I was tryin’ to do the right thing for once! Besides, with me gone, youse had a chance to live a better life. A life ye chose, not forced onto ya!”
Cian stands before me, his mouth agape. I never wanted to tell him this, but I can’t go on with him thinking I did this because I wanted to.
“He wanted Belfast as his own, and he couldn’t do that with me in the background. I had to be forgotten.”
“How could we forget someone like you, Punky?” Cian says, shaking his head. “I fuckin’ love ya. Yer my brother. I needed ya.”
My heart can’t take this any longer. I tried to be strong. For ten years, I refused to think of them because it just hurt. But now that I’m out, I can’t allow them to think I never cared. It was because I did care that I did what I had to, to keep them safe.