Page 124 of Heavy
Tears stream down my face as I sob, my chest heaving with the weight of unbearable pain.
Everything hurts, and I’m unable to go through with this…
I can’t kill Ronan.
I’d rather die instead…
39
Ronan
Shedidn’tcomehomelast night.
It’s early and the bed’s empty. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I feel like I am. I’m conflicted about my feelings. There’s a part of me that just wants to drop it, but the other is angry with her for lying and avoiding me. Have we not sat and talked about our trauma together? I’ve never laid everything, including myself, so bare for anyone. All I ever asked was her to be honest, how fucking hard is that?
You didn’t come home
After texting her, I force myself up and spend the next several hours doing absolutely nothing of value. From cleaning my bike, to the garage, it doesn’t do anything to help clear my head. I just need her to come home, and we can talk about it.
Jesus Christ, if she tells me she started the fire for the insurance money, does she really think I’ll look at her any differently? I’ll scold her for it, sure, but only because it’s not like her mother couldn’t afford to give her money.
She could tell me she blew up an entire apartment complex just to get out of a lease and I’d still be on her side. So, why the fuck is she being so secretive? I’ll even get Ken to help her if her mom isn’t able to get her out of it. I will take care of her, and I just wish she’d do me the decency to allow me to try.
I’ve come to love her, and I know it to be true because all I imagine is her. Waking up toherand onlyher.To please only her. Feed only her.
Calista is all I think about, and I truly am an obsessed man forher.
I’m not mad
Baby girl, don’t ignore me. You lied and I know you did
Sitting on the couch in the garage, I’m finishing off a turkey and cheese sandwich, nothing but the sounds of the lake and birds echoing around me.
It’s fine, but I’m still going to punish you for it
Can you please call me
Gripping the phone, I’m preparing to throw it out as far as possible in the hopes it hits the lake, when it rings.
Unfortunately, it isn’t Cal, but instead Eamon.
I take a deep breath and answer it on the first ring.
“Hey.” I put my head back against the couch and look up into the rafters.
“Hey, Ro. How’re you?”
“Could be better.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, not really in the mood to be having a conversation with my brother right now. “What do you want?”
He sighs. “Can we have lunch? I want to talk…”
I shake my head but don’t say anything. What I wouldn’t have given to have had my brother there for me when I got out of prison the first time. Part of me wonders—if I had reached out to him then, would it have made a difference for me?
I’d seen the life he had, and I think a small part of me was afraid of fucking it up for him, because that’s exactly what I was: a fuck up.
“After you were convicted…” he continues through my silence. “I tried to come see you, but you denied me visitation. No one was allowed to see you but Mom, even if Dad forbid it. Why?”
I tut. “Absolutely nothing to tell you, or anyone.”
