Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“You don’t have to.”
“No, I do. And I hate that I have to. It’s—” I drag a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. “It’s frustrating, knowing you had to step in when I should’ve been able to handle it myself. I should have her figured out by now, so this shit doesn’t happen.”
Her head tilts, eyes steady. “Maybe it’s not about what you should have been able to do. Sometimes help isn’t a matter of capability, it’s timing. And I was the better option in that moment.”
“Maybe,” I concede, mulling her words over as we begin walking again.
Her boots scuffing on the pavement breaks the silence for a bit until she asks, “Can I say something?”
I nod, wary but also trusting this woman.
“You can’t fix her, Ronan. You’ve tried, I can tell. But it’s not on you. She’s not going to change just because you want her to. And every time you let her turbulence pull you under, it’s like you’re the one paying the price for her choices.” Her words are gentle, not judging. “At some point, you’ve got to let go. Stop letting her take so much from you.”
The truth of it needles under my ribs, but it’s oddly freeing hearing it said aloud. I would never have the guts to come to that conclusion on my own.
“It meant a lot… you stepping in, because I’ve never had anyone do that before. I’ve never trusted someone the way I trust you.”
Francesca smiles up at me. “You never have to thank me for having your back, Ronan. That’s what two people in a relationship do.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Lots of experience, have you?”
“No, just watching my mamma and papà who are committed to each other and operate as a united front and partnership at all times. Good role models.”
“I know I don’t have to tell you how lucky you are to have parents like yours. Someone like me might be envious of that, but truly… it makes me so happy that you have that in your life.”
Francesca sighs, squeezes my arm. “Does your mamma show up like that often? Out of the blue? She looked put together today and it was a little jarring, but I could tell she was high.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “She doesn’t do it often, which makes it shocking when it happens. However, it’s been worse than what you saw today.”
“How so?”
An ugly bitterness wells in me. “Public scenes, vanishing for days. She’d come back acting like nothing happened, and I spent years trying to cover for her, trying to keep it out of the papers and keep people from talking.”
Her eyes soften, but she doesn’t pity me. That almost undoes me more than if she had. “It makes sense why you keep so much to yourself,” she says.
I glance at her. “What do you mean?”
“Because showing emotion gives people ammunition to use against you.”
“You read me too well.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
“It is when you’re not used to it. Most people don’t even notice when I shut them out. You…,” I pause, the words scraping raw on the way out. “You get past my defenses without trying. You call me on my shit without making me feel cornered. And it—” I stop, shaking my head. “It makes me want to say things I’ve never said to anyone.”
Francesca smiles in understanding and teases, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were getting ready to declare your fondness for me.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “I think I’ve given you enough tonight.”
“Fair,” she quips with a laugh, and that right there is why I want to say things to her. She’s low pressure, doesn’t judge and doesn’t try to fix me. She accepts me for who I am, ugly spots and all. This woman is the type who’s not going to bolt when life gets messy.
Francesca’s phone—tucked in her back pocket—rings, but she ignores it. But then it rings again and she frowns, pulling it free.
She holds the screen out to me and I see it’s Carlos calling. I think it says a lot about how far I’ve come when the twinge of jealousy is barely discernible. After her voicemail picks up, it immediately rings again.
Worry filters into Francesca’s eyes and we share a look that says You better answer that.
“What’s wrong?” Francesca asks as soon as she puts the phone to her ear. I can’t hear what Carlos is saying, but he seems to be saying a lot. Then Francesca says, “I’ll call you back.”
“What is it?” I ask after she disconnects.
“Carlos has been texting me, but I didn’t answer so he called.” Francesca maneuvers to her messages and I peer over her shoulder. “He said there’s a picture circulating of us with buzz about us being together.”
I wait for the dread that I imagined would happen if we were outed to the public, but it’s not there. I wonder why that is.