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“You actively put yourdaughterin danger,” Ronan seethes. “Fuck anyone else’s life but hers.”
She turns to me and shakes her head. “You have no idea what making a hard choice is. Picking a life—”
“Mom,” I cut in before she can continue. “You are wrong. So, so wrong. He’s made choices you’d only dream of being capable of making. You, me, we made bad choices…” I look at Eamon. “You, too.” I look back at the woman who raised me, the one who used to be there before she lost herself completely. I shake my head and shrug, letting a lifetime of disappointment settle between us. “Fuck you. Fuck you for hurting me and making me have to decide between one life or another. If you had done better; been a better mother, none of this would have happened. I forgave you too fast, and I’m coming to realize I should have left you so many years ago.”
Tears line her lids. “You can’t even begin to understand how I felt after losing your father.”
“Did you forget I also lost my dad?”
“It doesn’t excuse anything you did, Jasmine,” Eamon says. “Ronan told me how reckless you were with your own daughter’s life. Bringing her into that environment… at just fifteen?”
She lets out a weakpfft. “You have no room to talk. You haven’t even seen your own son in what, three years?”
“I was focusing on us, which now I can see is yet another mistake.”
Ronan lets out an exasperated sigh but doesn’t add to the commentary.
“Why did you come here, Jasmine?” I say, watching as surprise flickers across her face. It’s a simple thing, calling her by her name, but one I should have done long ago—separating my mother from the woman who hurt me. Maybe someday, she’ll earn that title back, but from today forward, I’ll decide the boundaries. I’ll choose the depth of our relationship.
After she stares at me in shock for a few more seconds, she turns to Ronan. “To tell you I’m sorry. That I wasn’t aware of the blackmail on you until they showed up with Genevieve. And… I hope you recover quickly.”
“I really don’t want shit from you other than for you to divorce my brother—”Damn… he just gets right to the point. “—so that I can have your daughter. If you choose totry and work it out.” The way he says it so mockingly has me horny. I feel filthy, I shouldn’t even be thinking about that right now. “I’ll still have the life I want to have with Cal, and at every family gathering, remind everyone what you did to her.”
I know he wouldn’t care about the title, about being called "step-uncle," but he wants it for me. I don’t know what the future holds, if kids will ever be part of it, but if they are, I don’t want that shadow hanging over their heads.
“We are getting a divorce,” Eamon says before Jasmine can retort. “I’ve been cheating on you, but you already assumed that I’m sure. The paperwork is already filled out.”
“This is like paying for a pay-per-view UFC fight, but without the fists,” Ronan murmurs.
What the fuck is pay-per-view?
“I…” Jasmine takes a deep breath, but instead of saying anything, she just turns and casually walks out of the room.
“Anti-climactic.” I turn back to see Ronan grabbing his cup of water and taking a sip. He then continues, “Thanks, Eamon. You didn’t have to come in here with her, though. Seems as though missy here is fully capable of shutting that bitch out.”
I look up at Eamon as he comes to stand directly beside the bed. He doesn’t look at me, but instead at his brother as he says, “I wasn’t coming in to save her, just came to be with you.”
He places his hand over Ronan’s knee and smiles at him.
“Great.” I can hear the shift in his tone, and I know that Eamon can too. He wants this, as badly as he wants to fight it. “I still prefer my solitude… with Calista. Speaking of, I’d really like to get the fuck out of here.”
“Hell no, you’ll be staying here until you aren’t at risk of infections. Your lungs are scarred, or did you just forget that?”
“Fuck off,” Ronan groans. “Listen, I can’t have you coddling menow. I’m damn near forty.”
Shifting my hand behind me, I search for his. I don’t have to look long—he takes mine, lacing our fingers together and holding on tightly.
“You currently are a baby, you had a diaper on just yesterday.”
“Oh, come off it, don’t even.”
The moment the three of us burst into laughter, the door opens again. We quickly silence ourselves as three police officers step through. My heart jumps into my throat, and I grip Ronan’s hand tighter.
Eamon squares his shoulders. “Can we help you?”
All three of the officers look down toward Ronan, but then to me. “Calista Sanderson?”
“Y-Yes?”
