Page 103 of Sparrow


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“Don’t mention it.”

I was going to do it. I was really going to do something selfless for once in my life since Cat and Brock happened. The last time I did something altruistic, it became my ruin. I was about to do it again, knowing it would hurt ten fucking thousand times more than it hurt when I broke off my engagement with Cat. Because, looking back, the pain of Catalina’s infidelity was nothing compared to the pain I felt knowing I inflicted misery on my wife.

And I was still going to do it, precisely because of that.

I really was a masochistic motherfucker.

“Are you all clear with the police and everything?” She sounded worried, but I didn’t fool myself.

“Yeah.” I inhaled, closing my eyes and falling backward on the chair with a soft thud. “I’ll be fine.” Sort of.

I opened my eyes and watched her for the first time since I walked into the room. She licked her dry lips, staring at the box of chocolate. This was us now. After doing the impossible and becoming something, this was us. Two strangers in a clinical room, looking for words that wouldn’t do justice to what we really had to say. Again.

“My mom…” She sighed. “I can’t believe you did that to her.”

“Me neither, Red.”

“Your father made you marry me. Why did you? Was there money involved?”

I nodded, peeling off a dead layer of skin from my palm. “The will said I’d get nothing until I married you. If we divorce, you get more than half.”

She let out a sarcastic chuckle. “I don’t need your family’s money. Everything you Brennans touch gets tarnished.”

“Nonsense. It’s yours. Always will be.”

“Let me go,” she said quietly, her voice cracking. “I need to leave.”

I nodded, knowing she was right but wishing she was wrong. Sparrow was my lovebird, and I couldn’t clip her wings anymore. I have bent her with the weight of my actions and lies for the past few months, and she took it all and took it well, but this was the last straw. If I bent her even more, she’d snap. Forcing her to stay was too dangerous for me and too destructive for her.

Some said that lovebirds could die of heartbreak. That was the myth, anyway. I didn’t look much into that, but I knew my lovebird, my Sparrow. She needed freedom, because even though she was incredibly good at accepting my shit, this was pushing it too far, even for her. I couldn’t hold onto her anymore, even if I wanted to. Now more than ever.

She was my beauty, and I was her beast. But this was not a Disney flick. In real life, the beast goes back to his solitary life, a freak who lurks in the shadows and watches as his girl runs away back to the arms of her family.

She was my only shot at a semblance of normalcy and happiness, and I had to let her go.

Slouching down, my head so low my nose almost touched my knee, I croaked. “You’re free.”

The most painful words ever spoken by me. Sparrow was free to go, to spread her wings and fly. I’d give her everything, as my father’s will ordered. And it still wouldn’t be as painful as seeing her go. “I’m just so fucking sorry. I know it sounds absurd, considering everything we’ve been through, but I never meant to hurt you that way.”

“I know.” Her voice grew cold. She was already slipping away from me. From us.

“My door’s always open,” I added, as if it mattered.

She tilted her head slightly with a nod. “I know that, too. Now, please leave.”

I got up from my seat. Walking in here, I thought I would never want to turn around and walk out. Thought I’d milk this conversation until the very last drop, get more time with her one last time before we said goodbye. But it turned out that when you really care, things don’t work that way. Her pain occupied the whole fucking room, invading my space and knocking me off my fucking ass, and I couldn’t tolerate it without feeling my pulse weaken and my body growing cold.

I reached for the door, about to walk away from her for the very last time.

“Just out of curiosity…would you have done things differently, all things considered?” she asked in her beautiful voice.

“All things considered,” I said, not turning around because I know I’d break and do my usual thing, coerce her, threaten her, force her to stay, knowing that she shouldn’t, “if I had known, I wouldn’t have waited until now, or until our parents were dead. I would have asked you to marry me when you were nine, on that dance floor at Paddy’s wedding, when you had your first slow dance, and damn the consequences.”

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