“I told her I’d leave.”
Conor hummed. “Why didn’t you? Or is this you leaving?”
“No. I’ve been hanging around, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s not… It’s not me, Conor.”
“You asked her what she wants?”
“No. She doesn’t want to talk.” Unless it was to doubt that I fucking loved her.
Jesus, how could she think that?
Every fucking day, I made decisions because of her. Because of Jake. For them both. For our future.
I rubbed my temple some more.
“I’m no expert—”
“Yeah, I agree. You’re no expert on marriage,” I snapped.
“But women ain’t like us, are they?” Conor chimed in, ignoring my snap of temper.
“Figured that out, did you? What gave it away?”
“No tits, pussy, or bubble butt,” Conor grumbled. “But you know what I mean. Maybe she wants you to be there. Maybe distance is the last thing you need between you.”
“Hanging around the apartment is like waiting for a bomb to go off.”
“I bet,” he consoled. “But maybe you sticking around is proof that you’ll always stick around.”
Staring down at my feet, I rumbled, “You think I should go back?”
“I do. Whatever work you got on your plate can be handled there, can’t it?”
“Yeah. I need some files.”
“Take them with you.”
I scowled at my feet. “Am I really taking advice from my chronically single brother?”
Conor argued, “Single by choice.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“Nah. I was waiting on the one. I’m a man of discerning tastes.”
Somehow hearing shit like that was perfectly acceptable from Kid. If Declan or Bren had said it, then I’d have ribbed them. But Kid said weirder shit over pancakes than most men did when they were pissed out of their skulls.
I scratched the stubble on my chin as I pondered his words, but the only thing I could think to say to any of that was, “I’d best get back home.”
“Yeah, you’d best.”
“Thanks, bro.”
“I’m glad you’re my blood, Finn. Always felt sure you were, but it’s nice knowing it all the same.”
“When did you find out?”
He hummed. “When you were seventeen. Same time as I found out O’Grady abused you.”
My throat closed. “You knew before I did. About being Senior’s son, I mean.”
He didn’t make it awkward. “Think about what you just said there, Finn, and wonder why you’re surprised.”
“You’re such a fucking know-it-all,” I groused, relieved that he was going to let it drop.
“Nah, I don’t shove it in your face.”
“That supposed to make it better?”
“Nope.”
“Con?”
“Yeah?”
“That Lodestar woman. She’s the one?”
“Yup.”
“Does she know it?”
“Nah. Not yet. I’m gentling her.”
My brows rose. “Gentling her? She ain’t a horse.”
“Never said she was,” he countered. “She’s been through a lot of shit, Finn.”
“Haven’t we all?”
“No. Worse than us.”
“Both of us are child sexual abuse survivors, Conor,” I pointed out, dragging it up when I hadn’t meant to. “You’re telling me what she went through is worse than that?”
“Da killed your rapist. My elder brothers killed mine. Our family came around us and showed us that we mattered enough to decimate those fuckers who dared hurt us.”
“No one did that for her?”
“No. No one. She was on her own. But she ain’t anymore.”
“You… Do you…” For a second, my tongue wouldn’t work, but of course, Kid helped me out.
“Do I forgive you for telling Da about Father McKenna?”
I could feel my goddamn Adam’s apple bob. “Yeah.”
“I dunno. I’m ambivalent about it. They were acting weird around Christmas, but they’re getting a bit more normal. I don’t want to talk about it with them, and I don’t think they do either.”
“Does that… do you wish they would? Isn’t it like the elephant in the room?”
“No. Maybe I should want to, but I don’t.” He cleared his throat. “You think Aoife will come to Sunday dinner?”
“Doubt it. Why?”
“I don’t want her to cut ties with us. I’ll miss her.”
An ache brewed in my chest. It had jack shit to do with a heart attack and everything to do with that fucking need I had, that we all had, to protect Conor. To shelter him.
“Maybe you should tell her that, Kid. Maybe that’s what she needs to hear.”
Conor just grunted.
“I wouldn’t expect her tomorrow,” I said cautiously.
Fuck, I didn’t know when we’d be attending Sunday dinner as a family. I didn’t even know if Senior would force us to attend.
As I wondered how that might turn out, if I was about to get kneecapped for refusing to force my wife to eat Lena’s roast, Conor muttered, “Go home and be with your wife, bro.”
“Yeah. Night, Kid.”
“Night, Finn.”
For a second, I stared down at my phone once he cut the call.
After a couple minutes, I stopped wondering if Kid could ever be happy with a woman who’d been through more shit than the pair of us combined, and I gathered the files together that I’d need.
In the morning, I’d have my assistant bring over anything I forgot, but I set myself up with enough work to get me through the night.
Loaded down with papers, I returned to my Porsche, headed home, and got myself situated in the office.
After I settled behind my desk, a half hour later, I heard Aoife stir in the bedroom.
I didn’t lift my head to look at her when she hovered in the doorway, but I knew she was there, knew she watched me work for a couple minutes before she returned to our bedroom.
Proving, yet again, that Conor was right.
“Little shit,” I hissed, hoping that one of his bugs picked up on that.
Twenty-Nine
Aoife
“Where’s Finn?”
I stopped whisking my brownie batter, the one that We Cream For Ice Scream was raving about and which had triggered a wave of interest in my bakery, and turned to Jen.
As I rubbed my side where that goddamn ache had started up again, I asked, “Why?”
“I want to talk to you about something. I don’t need him listening in.”
I blinked at her, feeling dazed. The day had been a long one. Deep inside, there was an ache that wouldn’t go, and today, having received a voicemail from Lena telling me that I could send it to the cops like it was a confession, I’d heard the details of my mom’s death.
On Lena’s end, it was an accident.
I believed that.
But that didn’t make the betrayal go away.