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“For who, you or me?” I say, suddenly feeling exasperated.
“Both of us.”
“Butwhy?!”
Arnie finally looks at me and the hard line of his mouth twitches in irritation. “Because everyone is looking for you, okay? If Connor or Jack knew that you were here–”
“Why doesn’t Connor know I’m here?” It suddenly clicks. “You haven’t told him yet, have you?”
“It’s a delicate situation.”
“This is just a game to you, isn’t it?” I accuse him in disbelief.I thought—well, obviously it didn’t matter what I thought.
“I’m just trying to do my best by everyone,” he insists stubbornly. “You said it yourself; you didn’t want to see him.”
I stare up at him wildly. “All this time, I’ve been here with a stranger when I could have been with him?”
“Don’t stand there and act like that’s what you wanted,” Arnie snaps back. “We both know you needed time to process.”
My hand twitches. I need to hit something. Now.
“Don’t. You dare. Presume you know what’s best for me,” I seethe. “You put me through all this without my family to explain it to me and expect me to be grateful when you tell me you denied me that opportunity?”
Arnie steps closer. “I denied you nothing. You haven’t forgiven your brother for what he did to you.”
“You denied me everything!” I shriek. “You are no one to me. A stranger, a murderer who killed my friend. What makes you think I would prefer you over my family?”
“I’m not a fucking stranger, Roisin!” Arnie roars, grabbing the top of my arms and squeezing hard, holding me in place. “I’m your fiancé.”
Chapter Thirteen
Roisin
He’s joking.
He’s not joking.
He’s lying, then.
My heart races as I stare at him, anger and disbelief surging through me.
“Roisin… please calm down,” he implores, taking a step back.
“Why would you say that? Why would you even joke about that?” My voice quivers with anger.
His hands go up defensively. “I’m just trying to tell you the truth!”
“Well, I don’t want it! Take it back!” I cry out, tears stinging my eyes.
“I can’t take it back; it’s already out there!”
There is nothing but regret in his voice. Regret and disappointment. Did he seriously think I wouldn’t respond like this? Somehow, his disappointment bruises me more.
He reaches out to me carefully. “Roisin, let’s talk about this. Okay?”
“I haven’t seen Connor in five years. Howdarehe?!” I fume, snatching my arm out of reach.
“He didn’t really have much choice.”
