Page 49 of Ghosts Don't Cry
Of course he’s here. I just saw him walk past the window.
Footsteps sound, moving closer. There’s a faint click. The door swings open.
And there he is.
Ronan.
Chapter Eighteen
RONAN
She’s standingon the porch like something ripped straight from a memory. A reminder of nights I spent staring at walls, replaying the way she used to look at me, and waking up choking on her name.
For five breaths, neither of us moves.
“What are you doing here?” My voice comes out low and steady. Nothing about it betrays the way my heart is slamming against my ribs.
Her fingers curl into fists at her sides. “I want answers.”
I prop one shoulder against the doorframe, the picture of relaxation, while inside everything is coiled tight.
“About what?” I already know the answer to that. I can read it in the tension thrumming through her body, and the way she’s braced for impact.
“Why have you come back here?”
“Does it matter?”
She takes a step closer. The porch light catches her face, and my breath seizes in my lungs. The years have changed her in obvious ways. There’s a new firmness to her jaw. She carriesherself a little differently. But her eyes are the same. They still see too much. They still make me want to look away.
“Yes!” She moves forward another step. She’s close enough now that I can smell her perfume. Something light and fresh. “Yes, it matters!”
“Why? Because you can’t stand not knowing? Because it’s eating you alive the same way it is for the rest of the town? Are you wondering what brought Graystone’s favorite failure back?”
Silence falls between us, broken only by the sound of the wind.
“You’re different.” Her voice is soft.
My fingers itch to reach for her. I shove them into my pockets instead.
“What do you want, Lily?”
“The truth!”
“Which truth? The one about how I fucked up and got exactly what I deserved? I think you know that story already.”
“Stop it.” She moves closer still, and everything in me screams to back away, and put space between us before I forget why I need to keep my distance. “You don’t get to stand there and act like?—”
“Like the fuck-up everyone saw me as?” I hike an eyebrow.
“God, you’re still so—” She runs a hand through her hair, shaking her head. The movement draws my eyes to the curve of her neck, and hunger hits me like a physical thing. “You push people away the second they get too close. You did it then, and you’re doing it now.”
“Maybepeopleshould take the hint and stay away then.”
“Why?” Her head tilts, and she studies me out of eyes that have haunted my dreams for years. “Because you don’t deserve friendship? Or because it’s easier than letting someone close enough to care?”
“Are you still trying to save me, Lily?” The words are mocking, but the space between us is charged. My pulse is thundering in my ears. I need to get control of this. “Is that what this is about? Do you still need to prove you can fix all the broken things?”
Color floods her cheeks. “That’s not fair.”
