“He can handle it from anyone else, Sasha. But never you.”
More tears come at the sound of disappointment in his voice, and it only makes me feel worse. But then he’s on his phone, whispering into the speaker while I close my eyes. It isn’t long before I drift off into unconsciousness.
When I wake again, Mack is beside me, stroking my hair and smiling down at me.
“Why are you smiling?” I croak.
“Because,” she says. “You did me proud tonight, Sash. I mean, I can’t be the only crazy one around this place.”
I laugh, and it feels good. But then the tears come soon after again.
“Sorry,” I mutter as I swipe at the hot mess that is my face.
“Don’t be sorry, doll,” she insists. “There’s nothing a good bout of ugly crying can’t fix.”
“I’m going to have to take your word for it,” I reply.
“C’mon,” she says. “Rory and I are going to take you home.”
“Okay.”
Chapter Eighteen
Sasha
I’m sitting up on the rooftop, shivering in the cold as I stare up at the sky. When a shadow passes over me, I don’t have to look to know it’s him. The shame inside of me won’t allow me to, so instead, I continue to stare at the stars, waiting for him to say something. Anything.
He doesn’t.
“How did you know I was up here?” I ask through a scratchy voice.
He still doesn’t answer, and when I finally get the courage to look at him, he’s uncomfortable with my question. I’ve often wondered if Ronan watches me. So many times, I could have sworn I felt eyes on me when nobody was there. But if he does watch me, he doesn’t want me to know it.
He surprises me by bending down and lifting my limp body into his arms. My head lolls against his strong chest and I close my eyes and let his warmth envelop me as he carries me back down the stairs and into my apartment. When I open them again, he’s pulling back the covers and laying me into bed. I’m so scared he’s going to leave me again, leave me alone to let my grief swallow me whole.
So when the bed dips and he climbs in behind me, I almost sob with relief. I hold my breath, wondering what he’s going to do. After tonight, I’m sure he thinks I’m more unhinged than he is. But that’s one of the things about Ronan. He’ll never throw it in your face. He’ll never say a word about it. And he’s here right now, because he knows what I need. He tugs me against his body and holds me.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” I whisper.
He holds me tighter and nuzzles into my neck like I’m his source of comfort and not the other way around.
“I’m sorry about what I called you,” he replies. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Ronan?”
“Aye?”
“Please don’t let me go,” I tell him. “Or at least stay until I fall asleep.”
And he does.
***
The next morning, I wake to find a pair of brown eyes gazing down at me. They are warm, like melted chocolate. Open and soft. He’s leaning against the headboard, still completely dressed save for his suit jacket. You’d never know he just woke up.
“You’re still here,” I say.
“Would you prefer me to leave?” he asks.
I reach out and touch his hand with mine, and he lets me. “No.”
“I’m not the only one,” he tells me. “Mack and Crow are on the sofa in the lounge room.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry about your mammy,” he says.
“Thank you.”
“I don’t know what to say in these situations.”
“You don’t need to say anything,” I tell him. “Thank you for staying with me last night.”
He nods, and something else pops into my mind. Something that I shouldn’t ask because it’s only going to make it harder to do what I need to do.
“Did you talk to my mother?” I ask him.
He doesn’t reply, but I know that I’m right. He clears his throat, and it takes him a minute to find the words.
“I wanted her to know you’d be alright,” he says.
His eyes find mine, and they’ve never looked more serious. “And I will protect you.”
“Oh,” I murmur. “Well… thank you for telling her that.”
“I meant it,” he says. “I haven’t done a good enough job of it in the past. But I will keep you safe.”
“You have kept me safe, Ronan,” I reply. “Probably more times than I even really know. But you can’t protect me forever. I’ll be leaving soon, anyway.”
He looks away. And I can’t tell what he’s thinking. I want to ask him if he cares. If it bothers him at all. But that would be stupid. Because none of that matters. I need to leave. To get away from this life before I lose the few marbles I have left.
He climbs to his feet without any sort of response.
“Are you going?”
“Aye.” He still won’t look at me. “I have to go feed the dog.”
“Dog?”
“Let me know if ye need anything, Sasha.”