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A tear trickles down her cheek. “I’m sorry for everything. I thought I was doing the right t-thing.”
“Shh, it’s all right. We all made mistakes. How’s yer ma? Yer wee sister?”
She sniffs back her tears. “My mom is good. She’s been in remission for almost eight years. My sister isn’t so little anymore,” she says with a smile.
“Ach, I’m happy yer ma is all right.”
“She’s okay because of you, because of what you did. You went to prison for me. For all of us,” she says, squeezing my hands.
“I’m doin’ this so we’re even. But I don’t want to see ye again. No matter what ye did, ya lied to me, and now I have the deaths of my family on my hands. I cannot forgive ya. And ye shouldn’t forgive me.”
Those are the last words I spoke to her, yet she still sees me as the hero in this story.
“I’ve missed you…so much,” she declares in a whisper, ashamed. “A piece of me died when you left. I’ve been searching for it since you were gone—”
“I need to tell ya somethin’,” I interrupt, unable to stomach her pain a second longer. But what she says next changes everything forever.
“I met someone,” she blurts out, lowering her eyes. “I’m sorry. I just…we can’t be together. And…fuck. He’s a good man. I’m sorry, Punky. He makes me ha-happy.”
She throws herself into my arms, sobbing into my chest guiltily.
Her words play over and over in my mind as I try to digest what she shared.
“He’s a good man.”
Closing my eyes, I curse every fucking breath I take because I may as well be dead.
Holding her, I inhale her scent and commit it to memory because all I’ve ever wanted was her happiness. If this man can offer that to her, then I have to let her go.
“Don’t be sorry. Ya did what I wanted—ye lived. That’s all I ever wanted for ye. For ye to be happy.”
She cries, never letting me go as I console her, ignoring this pain in my chest. If I tell her what I know, what does that achieve? Babydoll is happy. I can never give her that when I don’t know what true happiness is.
All I can offer her is pain. All I represent is our past mistakes—a past paved with bloodshed and lies. She will think about that every time she looks at me.
I love her more than life itself, which is why I have to set her free. I will carry this secret to my grave and never burden her with a choice because if she believes we’re blood—they’ll be no choice to make. She’ll live a happy and safe life without me.
Connor’s dying words come back to haunt me.
“Yer a leader. Lead with the compassion yer ma gave ya. And rule with the cruelty I taught ya because it’s the only way to survive in our world.”
Love makes you weak. It allows you to be human. Babydoll is collateral, and I refuse to allow my selfish needs to put her in harm’s way ever again.
“I wish…”
“Come now, we can’t change what’s done,” I say, not wanting to hear what I desperately want in fear I’ll crack and tell her the truth. I won’t be that selfish.
This is Babydoll’s chance to live a life away from me and away from the shame she feels for what we did.
“I know,” she whispers, still holding me. “It’s good to have you home.”
“Home?” I question. “Ye live here now?”
She gently pulls away, brushing her hair from her cheeks. “No, but my…fiancé does.”
Fiancé?
I just accepted her seeing someone, but engaged to be married…fuck.
