The rage that flared inside Aisling was white-hot and blinding.
"You bastard," she said, voice shaking. "You used her grief. Her loneliness."
Séamus had the nerve to almost look ashamed. Almost. His lips thinned. "I thought it would bring the lands together. Heal old wounds. I didn’t think she'd die before she could see it through."
Aisling's gaze cut to Ronan, who stood stiff and silent.
"And you?" she demanded. "Did you know?"
Ronan shook his head immediately. "I swear to you, Aisling, I knew nothing. I brought him here to prove it."
Séamus grunted and pulled a thick envelope from the inside of his battered coat. He slapped it down on the coffee table between them.
"My copy," he said. "You want to see it?"
Ronan stepped forward before she could move. "No. Tear it up."
The old man's eyes narrowed. "You sure, boy?"
"You heard me. This land will always be Aisling’s unless she sells.”
“You’re leaving yourself open, boy. Keep the agreement. The land will be ours.”
“Grandfather, we talked about this. No. The land belongs to Aisling and will until she decides to get rid of it.”
Slowly, Séamus opened the envelope, pulled out the yellowed document with trembling hands—and ripped it straight down the middle. Then again. And again. Tiny white fragments fluttered down like a cruel, inverted snowfall.
Aisling stared at the shredded pieces, her heart thudding painfully. The old man made a grunting sound.
"You have my word," Ronan said quietly. "That agreement’s dead. You owe us nothing."
Séamus wiped his hands on his trousers like the whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth. "Boy, here loves you. Stubborn as hell, but he loves you. Why don’t the two of you just go by the agreement and marry?”
“Grandfather, shut up,” Ronan said with a sigh. “You’ve done enough damage.”
Séamus said that he loved her, but she had not heard from Ronan.
Aisling couldn’t look at Ronan. Not yet. She turned to Séamus, her voice ice. "You tried to force two people together like pawns on a chessboard. You think that’s love? You think that's family?"
"No," the old man said heavily. "I know it now. But it was an old man’s wish that the land become one. It was a foolish, selfish mistake."
"And you screwed it up pretty royally," she snapped.
Séamus chuckled, the sound dry and brittle. "That I did."
He struggled to his feet. Ronan moved to help him, but Séamus waved him off with a scowl. "Got to let a man stand on his own mistakes."
Aisling stood rigid as the old man shuffled to the door. When he reached it, he paused and looked back.
"For what it’s worth, girl... I hope someday you’ll forgive an old fool who wanted to right a wrong the wrong way."
She said nothing. The door clicked shut behind him.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Finally, Ronan spoke, his voice low, raw. "I didn’t know, Aisling. I swear to you. I would never have used you that way."
Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "And yet... it still happened. It’s still here between us."
