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Ronan frowned. Phil looked between us before quietly pulling Trevor toward the door. Neither argued. Within seconds, the room was empty except for Ronan and me.

I walked toward him. “Sit down. I can take care of this. You’ve already done enough.”

Something in my voice must have convinced him, because he lowered himself onto the sofa without argument. I went for the medical supplies while he watched me. When I returned, I carefully cut through the bloodstained fabric around the wound. The injury was ugly, but the bullet had passed through without doing the damage I’d feared.

“You were shot. And you thought telling me you were fine was good enough?”

“I didn’t want you to be frightened.”

I cleaned the wound while Ronan sat completely still. His jaw tightened whenever the antiseptic touched the torn flesh, but he never complained. I’d seen him as untouchable for so long that watching him allow me to care for him felt strangely intimate.

“Who did this?”

“Sokolov. He’s dead now. You don’t need to worry about him anymore.”

My hands paused. I looked at him again. “You killed him.”

“Yes.” There was no pride in his voice, only exhaustion.

I continued working, but my anger had begun to mix with something I didn’t want to acknowledge. I’d spent so much time thinking about Ronan as the man who’d destroyed my family that I’d forgotten there was another burden attached to him.

He’d spent years surrounded by violence, making decisions that could cost people their lives, protecting the O’Connor organization while carrying guilt for everything he couldn’t undo. And tonight, he’d nearly died.

“You could have died,” I whispered. His eyes remained on me as I finished stitching the wound and wrapped the bandage carefully around his ribs. When I stepped back, Ronan caught my wrist gently.

“I know, but I came back.” I stared at him. “I came back bleeding, but I came back nonetheless.”

The words should have angered me. Instead, they frightened me, because I realized how badly I’d needed to hear them. I looked at the blood on his hands and understood that the man sitting in front of me had spent years surviving things most people would never see. He’d learned to hide pain, bury guilt, and carry responsibility without allowing anyone close enough to notice.

Tonight, he’d allowed me to see it. And I was no longer sure I wanted him to carry it alone. I tightened the bandage around Ronan’s ribs, trying to concentrate on the work instead of the blood that had covered his shirt or the thought of what could have happened if the bullet had struck somewhere else. My hands were steady, but everything inside me was shaking.

“You should lie down,” I said. “And don’t say you will. Do it now.”

A faint smile touched his mouth, but it disappeared when he saw my face.

“I thought you were going to die,” I whispered. His expression changed. “You almost didn’t come back. I can’t do this again.”

My voice broke, and suddenly I couldn’t hold myself together anymore. Tears filled my eyes before I could stop them. I turned away, embarrassed by how quickly everything I’d been holding inside me was spilling out.

“I already lost my parents. I spent fifteen years believing that was the worst thing that could ever happen to me, and then I found you, and everything became complicated. I hated you. I loved you. I hated myself for loving you. And now I have to sit here and watch you come through that door covered in blood and wonder if the next time you won’t come back.” I wiped my face and turned toward him. “I can’t lose another person I love to this life.”

The words hung between us. Ronan stared at me as though I’d struck him.

“What did you say?” He stood slowly, despite the pain. “You love me?”

I looked at him, unable to hide it anymore. “Yes.”

His face changed in a way I’d never seen before. The control disappeared, leaving something raw and almost disbelieving beneath it. “Even after everything?”

“That’s what makes it so terrible. I never wanted to have to choose between loving you and hating what you did, but I don’t know how to separate them. I still hate what happened to my family. I still hate that you were part of it. Some days I don’t know how I can stand beside you, knowing the truth. But I love you anyway.”

Ronan closed his eyes briefly before looking at me again. “You were the first person who made me want something other than survival. I spent years believing that was all I deserved—violence, responsibility, blood. Then I walked into that café and looked at me like you weren’t afraid of me.”

Despite everything, a tear slipped down my cheek. “You remember that?”

“I remember everything about you. I started falling in love with you long before I admitted it to myself. Even after you learned the truth, I couldn’t stop caring about you. I couldn’t make myself walk away, no matter how much I believed I should.”

I reached for his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”