Page 63 of Heavy
I need him, the man who’s slowly stealing every part of me, to see that I don’t want to hurt him—not more than I already have.
Why can’t he see that I just don’t want to lay all the baggage that I’ve got on him? He can’t be allowed to see what I’ve done, because it’s my mistake to correct. I thought I fixed it already by telling them I won’t go through with what they asked, but it seems I need to do more to convince them to leave me be.
Telling Ronan that I can handle it myself won’t be enough for him. He’s going to fight me every step of the way andpush harder or walk away like he did now.
That’s the last thing I want. I don’t want to be farther from him, I want to be closer.
“You’d detest touch too if you were only ten when people started placing their hands and body parts where they didn’t belong.”
Bile rises in my throat, and I throw my hand over my mouth, leaning forward while a tearless sob escaping me.Oh, Ronan…I cup my hands over my chest, squeezing my eyes shut. How could anyone do that to you?
I want to show him that my touch isn’t here to hurt him, but instead to heal. It’s possible that we can do that for each other. If he’d allow me to cleanse his past, he can do the same with my present. Give me the strength to do what I need to not go down the path that I’m heading down.
“I’m so sorry…” I whisper
He doesn’t want my apologies and has only asked one thing of me that I’ve denied him. To just be honest, and I can’t even fucking do that simple thing for him.
I’m the worst kind of person, even if I swear I don’t want to be.
After picking myself up off the floor, I walked into the cabin, and right to the guest room. His door was closed, and while I wanted to force myself in to talk with him, something told me I needed to give him space.
Ronan saying he would be free if he died breaks my heart. It drained every ounce of energy from me. The moment I hit the bed, I choked on a dry sob, before finally surrendering to sleep.
I slept longer than I intended. When I woke, he was gone. His door stood open, and his bike was missing from the garage.
I’d forgotten the contractors were coming to work on the house today—installing kitchen cabinets and moving furniture into the living room. I’d decided to leave the wood paneling unpainted, along with the exposed stone throughout. It made the place feel more like we were outside, immersed in nature, rather than shut inside four walls.
To avoid getting in the workers’ way, I retreated to the dock, staring at my phone in silence, hoping to hear the sound of his motorcycle coming up the pathway. Hours passed, and the knot in my stomach only tightened, the sound I longed for never coming.
Without thinking, I pull up a contact on my phone and hit call. I press it to my ear, listening to it ring three times before he finally picks up.
“Hey there, honey,” Eamon says, sounding both surprised and happy.
“Hey…” I don’t even know why I’m going through with this. It’s bound to raise his suspicions. At least we’re not face to face; I can lie more convincingly when my expressions aren’t on full display.
“Everything okay?” he asks, and I fiddle with the hem of my shorts.
“Yeah, I’ve just had a lot on my mind since our dinner.”
“Oh boy.” He sighs and clears his throat. “Have you talked with your mother?”
“No, but I was hoping to ask you something… about your brother.”
I don’t need to see him toknowhe is uncomfortable. “Sure, within reason.”
“You guys are like… seven years apart?”
“Eight,” he corrects me.
“That’s quite the age gap. You guys didn’t have any other siblings?” I already know that they don’t, but I really need to be careful with this.
“Right, Ronan’s my only brother; just the two of us.”
“By the sounds of it at the dinner table, you guys aren’t close. Was it always that way?” I’m purposefully lowering my tone, slightly sheepish as to convey that I’m attempting to tread lightly. “If that’s okay to ask.”
Again, his sigh is filled with unspoken resentment, and I know whatever he is going to say will tear my heart in two. “I loved—no, I love my brother. I failed him when he was still so young, and I hadn’t realized it until it was too late. He hates me for good reason. It’s selfish to try and fix what I refused to face myself. I should’ve done better for him…” His words trail off, and I try to listen to see what is happening, but it’s impossible.
“I’m sorry…” I say to break up the silence. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
