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Now, years later, I'm standing here with the girl who is mine, who has always been mine, and now, I've failed her too.
Conor is right to not want me with his sister.
It was one thing when she was in Boston, and we didn't know about everything that was happening, but Kenna was home now, and it happened—he got to her. That should’ve never been a possibility.
It was too late for me to save my mother.But it isn't too late for me with Kenna.
As I stood there, gripping the counter for strength, I vowed I would never fail her again. I would show Conor and Finn that Kenna was mine, and I that I would make sure she was safe from now until my last breath.
It wasn't until I heard the front door shut that I lifted my head.
A few seconds later, Finn walked in with Conor following close behind him. Both had the same look that I had on my face.
Finn made his way into the kitchen to the island in the middle. He reached over and put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed, letting me know we were all in this together. As he took a seat on one of the stools, we both looked at Conor, who was staring at me. We remained in total eye contact, neither of us blinking.
"Where is Micky?" Conor looked around the kitchen and through the doorway over to the living room sofa.
I made my way around the island and took a seat on one of the stools next to Finn. "She is hopefully sleeping. She was exhausted."
Conor's head immediately snapped up at me. "Sleeping where?"
I took a deep breath to keep myself under control. I knew this conversation had the potential to destroy my friendship with Conor, so I needed to keep my emotions in check. And as such, I figured it would be best to just give a direct answer. "She’s in my bed."
My gaze bounced from Conor to Finn, who I saw was also directing his attention to Conor. We could both see that Conor was struggling to keep it together, so I decided I should probably try and control this conversation to keep it from escalating.
"Listen, you’re my best fri—”
"How long?" Conor asked.
I stood from the stool and made my way to the fridge, grabbing three beers and placing them on the island.
“Here.” I handed one to Finn, then slid another across the island, hoping Conor would move into the kitchen.
Without waiting, I opened mine and took a long swig, then proceeded to answer Conor with a question of my own.
"How long have I been in love with your sister?” I asked. “Or how long have I been sleeping with her? Because those are two completely different answers, and I can tell you, the love came long before I ever slept with her."
I brought the bottle back to my mouth and waited for Conor to either reply or attack me.
Finn sat there silently, drinking his beer, and waiting for something to happen—or not.
Conor took a moment to obviously digest what I had just said to him, and then he made his way forward. I lowered my beer in preparation, but Conor walked over to the island, grabbed the bottle, then twisted the top of the beer.
Right before the bottle hit his lips, he muttered, “Fuck.”
At that moment, I exhaled the breath I didn't even know I was holding. The three of us stood in my kitchen, finishing our beers without saying a word. All of us took a moment to digest everything that had happened tonight.
Finn hadn't said much when Kenna came home months ago, and tonight, he was also quiet.
He got up from the stool he was sitting on and grabbed another beer from the fridge.
“Anyone want one?” Finn held up his bottle.
“Naw,” I replied. “I’m good.”
Conor shook his head and continued to nurse his beer.
"I've known for a long time that you've been in love with Micky.” Finn twisted the top off the bottle. “I probably knew before you even knew, Ry. I saw how you watched her, how you would always stand next to her any chance you got. I also saw how you comforted her not only when our dad passed but when our mom did too. You’ve always loved her. Honestly, I can't think of a better man for her. I think I can skip over the'if you hurt my sister . . .'speech.”
