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“Because he was mine.” I rubbed at my cheeks with my sleeve. I was so tired of crying. “With the pack and his family and our family, I just… I just wanted to keep him for myself. It was selfish and stupid, I know that.”
“That’s not stupid, Genevieve,” she whispered. “I think that’s perfectly reasonable. I don’t want kids, but if I had them, I’d do the same thing in your shoes. Married to a fucking Byrne? Shit. Everyone was always up in your fucking business. There’s nothing wrong with wanting some quiet during that. But after? He left, and no one knew.”
“I pushed him that far,” I said. “If I hadn’t been—”
“You both made mistakes,” she interrupted. “You’re fucking human—at least where it counts. I’m more worried about how you’re holding up than anything else. You never should’ve gone through that alone. I would’ve been there.”
“You hate Cedar Harbor.”
“But I love you. Promise me, no matter what shit hits the fucking fan, you’ll call me.” Gabby shook my hand. “I mean that. I will pull out the fucking pinky promise thing if I have to. You can’t break a fucking pinky promise, GiGi. It’s bad luck. Like breaking a fucking mirror.”
“I don’t think that’s the same,” I told her. She let out a growl and fussed with our hands until her pinky linked with mine. And in true Gabby fashion whenever a pinky promise was involved, she held my finger hostage in a death grip. “Aren’t we a little old for pinky promises?”
“No such fucking thing,” she retorted. “Promise me.”
“Only if you promise me too.”
“Oh my God, don’t be a bitch and just say the fucking thing.” She laughed, loud and happy. I missed her laugh. Gabby may have had a whole dark and twisty thing going on, but she was still happy Gabby to me. “Fine. I pinky promise to call your pumpkin-loving ass whenever I need someone.”
“And I pinky promise to call your pumpkin-hating little self whenever I need someone,” I replied and jiggled her hand, smiling through the tears. “Thank you.”
“That’s what I fucking do,” she stated. “Now, we have another hour to go. We’re going to catch up now because once we get into the city, I’m taking you house shopping then Killian wants me to take you shopping for Halloween and a date he’s planning. So, let’s fucking go. Tell me everything.”
Chapter 94
Killian
Ican’t do this,” I whispered. I stood in the kitchen with my back to Declan. Fuck, my heart raced violently in my chest. I wanted to do this—I had to do this. Genevieve had been through enough. This was supposed to be the one thing I could do for her, so why the fuck couldn’t I make myself move?
“Tell me what you need,” Declan said. I drummed my fingers against the counter as I considered telling him to fuck off. I could do this. Had to. Fuck. Declan moved to the counter next to me. “Let me help, Killian.”
“I have a whole list,” I muttered.
“So, break down the list for me,” he replied. “I can handle it. We all can. It’s why we’re here. To make this easier on you.”
“I don’t deserve for it to be easy. She went through hell—”
“You did too.”
“—and this is the least I can fucking do for her,” I continued over him.
“First off, you won’t make any progress if you keep punishing yourself,” Declan told me. I glanced at him, and he raised a brow as if to challenge me to argue with him. I didn’t. “You both made poor choices, but there were a fuck ton of reasons why you both did the shit you did. But you’re both trying to get better and trying to take care of yourselves. That’s what matters. Not what you did in the past, but what you’re doing with yourself here and now.”
Fucking Declan and his words of wisdom. Not that I was complaining. He always knew the shit I needed to hear, even if I didn’t want to fucking hear it.
“You can’t do that if you’re punishing yourself at every fucking turn, Killian,” he stated. “You did the right thing—asking us to be here. Now, get out of your own way and lean on us. You’re not doing this alone.”
I wasn’t doing this alone. I stared at him stupidly, that single thought hammering against my skull.
“You have no idea how much like Dad you are, do you?” I said quietly.
“Not really,” he admitted. “I hear the stories and all that, but I don’t know. Some days I feel like the memories I have are fading.”
“He’d be proud of you.”
“I like to think he’d be proud of all of us. We’ve managed to do the one thing he always worried about—always stressed was important.”
“Which was?”
