Page 124 of Dublin Beast

Then after a couple of minutes, a long breath shudders out of him. He pulls me closer and presses his cheek against my forehead.

“This is all I need,” he rasps, voice wrecked and raw. “Sorry about that.”

I pat a soft hand over his chiseled abs. “You don’t have to apologize, and you don’t have to explain.”

“Maybe not, but I’d like to.”

We lay there quietly for a few more minutes before he starts. “In the two weeks you didn’t want to see me… well, I wasn’t in a good place. Tag told me to figure out what’s weighing me down, what makes me so fucking angry all the time. He sent me to stay in his condo downtown.”

By the look on his face when I asked him to leave and not contact me, I knew I’d hurt him. At the time, I needed space and time to think.

My heart aches that I’m partly responsible for breaking this man down to tears.

“A lot of my pain revolved around Yasmine and being angry at myself for letting you get under my skin. It got me thinking about her parents and how much I missed them, so I went to visit them.”

Oh, the poor man. “How did it go?”

“Better than I hoped for. It actually made me so sad that I dropped out of their lives so abruptly. Riya and Ashwin are amazing people.”

“I’m sure they understood why it was hard to be around them.”

He pats my arm and shifts, sitting me up enough to hand me the paper in his hand. “Riya gave me a letter from Yas. A final farewell, it seems.”

He holds it out, but I don’t take it. “Bryan, no. That’s your letter.”

“It is, but there’s a bit at the end… a part she wrote for you.”

My mind stalls out on that one.For me?

I sit up and cross my legs, facing him. He holds out the letter again and I take it with careful hands, unfolding the soft, creased pages.

The handwriting is beautiful. Fluid. Emotional.

I read every word slowly, my throat tightening with each sentence. Her love for him pours through the page—strong and unwavering. She speaks to him and it’s obvious how well she knew him.

And then, her urging to move on…

To love again.

And at the end—there it is. A message for me. A message from the woman who held his heart first.

Tell her I wish her strength and patience dealing with you, and nothing but happiness for a long life together.

And maybe, if she’s up to it, take her to meet my parents.

When I finish reading that last part a second time, I fold it back up and hand it to him. “It’s a beautiful letter, Bryan. She was obviously a truly special woman.”

“She was.”

When he accepts the letter, I keep hold of his hand and thread our fingers together. “Thank you for letting me read it.”

He nods. After a long moment, he sighs and meets my gaze. “When you looked at me in that parking lot and said I was nothing more than a thug and a killer, I realized you had pieced my heart back together enough for it to be ripped apart again.”

He doesn’t say that cruelly, but his words pierce my heart all the same. “I’m sorry. I was shocked and felt like I’d misjudged everything we did together. I also felt very responsible for getting Siobhan killed.”

He scoffs. “I told ye, she brought it on herself.”

“Right, but I didn’t know the details.” I stare at our joined hands. “I met with Tag and asked him about Siobhan. About your father. And about what the hunt for her meant to your family.”

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