Because the true tragedy wasn’t in losing people.
It was in never trying to hold onto them in the first place.
Finally, when the worst of the storm inside her had passed, she lifted her head.
She wiped her face, smeared with tears, and stood.
Gazing at the letter, she knew this wouldn’t be hidden away again.
This deserved to be remembered. Honored.
Because it wasn’t just a confession of regret, it was a warning. A plea across time.
Don’t make the same mistakes.
Aisling walked to the window and stared out across the fields. The sun stretched long shadows over the hills. The stone walls that divided the land into neat patches looked so old, so stubborn, and so heartbreakingly beautiful.
Her family had lived here for generations, loving, fighting, and holding grudges so fierce that they could outlive a lifetime.
She understood it now. The love. The pride. The pain.
But she also understood something else: It had to end with her.
She would not let pride steal the people she loved.
She would not let anger harden her heart into stone.
She would not wait until it was too late to forgive or to ask forgiveness.
Maybe Ronan had hurt her. Maybe her father had failed her once. Maybe Declan, Michael, half the bloody world had disappointed her.
But she would not let those betrayals define her.
She would be stronger.
She would be better.
She would love fiercely andforgive just as fiercely.
And if she fell, she would rise again—stronger for having dared to try.
Her mother had lost her chance.
Her grandmother too.
Aisling O’Byrne would not lose hers.
She pressed her palm to the cool glass and whispered into the room.
"I promise."
CHAPTER32
After she tucked the letter from her grandmother back into its envelope, Aisling sat for a long time on the worn edge of the bed, her fingers absently tracing the old stitching of the quilt.
The words still burned in her chest.
Her grandmother had loved her. Had wanted her.
