Page 16 of Beneath His Robes

His gaze hardened at the mention of his mother, the distance between us narrowing with each passing second.

“I didn’t want to hurt her,” he said. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” The words felt like a promise, like an apology. “But I thought…I thought it would be easier if I just disappeared. Easier for everyone, including myself.”

I could see the guilt in his gray eyes, the regret that had been eating at him for years. The man in front of me, the man I once knew so well, was still wearing all the scars from our past. The difference was, this time, I wasn’t running from it. I couldn’t anymore.

“It wasn’t easy to love you,” I said, the words bitter on my tongue, but they felt true. “When you left, I realized who I was. I accepted my sin. I was reckless and threw my broken heart at anyone who would take it…but they weren’t you. They weren’t you, Ronan. I hated you for that. For so long…I hated you. I let that hate lead me to my absolution. Begging Father Franklin to take me in and make me something more than what your betrayal had left me. I couldn’t be that broken, pathetic boy anymore.”

He closed the distance between us, his hand reaching out slowly, tentatively, like he wasn’t sure if I would pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

“So you became a fucking Priest?”

He sounded exasperated, like my vows were a personal nail to his coffin.

The touch of his hand on mine—just like in old times—made everything else seem small. My small barrier, the anger, the hurt, it all faded. At that moment, it was just him and me. Neither of us could run forever from this conversation.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking, and I realized then that he had been carrying this weight for just as long as I had.

Tears formed in his gray eyes and spilled down his cheeks. The man I saw as pure strength my entire life was just as fragile as I was.

I closed my eyes, letting the truth of it all settle over me.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Ronan,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I just…I just needed you to know. Why I made the choices I have and why that won’t change. I am glad you are back for your mother. I know you will be good for Monticello. Just as you always have been…but I can’t. I can’t have you in my life again.”

At that moment, his hand slipped from mine. I could feel the pain. The invisible tether that always bound us, snapping, leaving in its wake our broken love.

ChapterSeven

Ronan

The next few days, I tried to busy myself with mundane bullshit chores for my mom. Step dick hadn’t come back from his casino bender since he broke her wrist, and I stayed around to fix up her piece of shit car, the trailer that was falling apart, and keep her from hurting herself further.

I felt like the parent more and more.

“Ma. I’m heading out to get groceries. Stay off your damn pipe while I’m gone.”

Miranda hollered a dopey response, the sound of that bubbling weed prevalent before I even exited the door.

“Weeds not bad. God gave us herbs in the dirt. This here is medicine.”

I rolled my eyes but left it alone. At least she had stopped the hard stuff while I had been here.

As I made my way to my truck, I could hear those fucking church bells in the distance. One bad thing about Monticello being so small was that everything, including the love of your life’s church, wasn’t far at all.

In Vegas, you could drive for miles and never be able to fixate on one particular noise, but not here. I could hear Marty and Bertha arguing about bread a few houses across the way.

I tried to blur the noise from my mind, cranking my radio dial-up and letting the low bass fill my ears.

“What have I fucking got myself into?” I said aloud, shaking my head as to why I was sitting in my truck driving to a damn grocery store in the first place.

All for the shithead mother who barely achieved keeping me alive in the shit hole town.

Elias Cross.

His name flickered in my mind like a strobe light, temporarily making me feel blinded.

“Fucking hell,” I cursed, my hands tightening against the steering wheel.

Elias was invading my mind. For some reason, all I could do was think about his lips. I only kissed the man once in my entire life, yet right now, my lips burned to do it again.

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