Page 23 of Six of Hearts
"Me?" He questioned.
I knew where Julian was going with it. It made sense to have the most calm, cool, and collected of us to have the official conversation with Aria.
"Yeah, you should do it," I added.
"She respects you a lot, and you're the most mature one of us. You can make sure she understands what this really means—not just the physical side, but the emotional complexity. The kids. All of it."
Ronan sat there in silence for a moment, but then a coy smile curled across his face. "Okay. I'll do it."
Nine
Ronan
Each time I saw Aria, the pull grew stronger. The other guys had made their feelings clear at Noah's—carefully, thoughtfully, but clear nonetheless. They wanted her. We all did. But I had more at stake than any of them, and that made everything more complicated.
I was the only one in our group who hadn't left his marriage by choice. The others had divorced, had fallen out of love, had grown apart. Me? I'd lost Eva in the worst way possible, and I'd spent years trying to forget what that felt like. Having Aria here, looking so much like her, brought everything back—the good and the unbearable.
The guys had chosen me to have the conversation with Aria about our arrangement. It made sense on paper. I was the steady one, the mature one, the one who could be trusted to handle delicate situations without letting emotion take over. But sitting in my office, staring at the clock as it ticked toward the time she'd arrive with Finn, I wasn't sure I could remain objective about her at all.
I wanted her. God, I wanted her. But it wasn't just physical—it was the way she laughed with Finn, the way she'd seamlessly become part of our chaotic family, the way she looked at me sometimes like she could see past every wall I'd built. It terrified me.
"Knock, knock!”
Aria's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced at the clock and realised I'd been sitting there, lost in my head, fornearly an hour. She was already here with Finn, and I hadn't prepared a single word of what I needed to say.
"Ronan?" she called again.
"Hi Daddy," Finn greeted.
"Can I watch Pit Stop?" His current obsession—a cartoon about racing cars that he could recite by heart.
"I'm hungry."
I looked at him, this little person who was my entire world, and felt my chest tighten. "Do I look like a walking need-fulfiller to you?" I asked, keeping my tone light.
He stared back at me blankly.
"I'll take that as a yes. Come on." I stood and looked at Aria, who was watching us with that soft smile that made my heart do things I wasn't ready to name. "Do you have a moment? I'll just get him set up with dinner and his show, then I wanted to talk to you about something.”
She nodded, her smile brightening. "Of course."
"Come on in. Make yourself comfortable," I said, gesturing toward the den.
Finn was already headed to the living room, and I followed, watching as he went through his nightly routine with the precision of a tiny engineer. He was a child of habit, my son.
He dragged his small armchair across the floor, positioning it exactly where he wanted it in front of the TV—not too close, because he knew I'd tell him to move back. Then he retrieved his little table and set it beside the chair before climbing up and looking at me expectantly.
I chuckled and headed to the kitchen, preparing his favourite meal: chicken nuggets and fries, with a juice box and carrot sticks on the side. When I delivered it to him, he didn't say thankyou—just settled in and started eating. I queued up his favourite episode of Pit Stop from our saved recordings, and as I passed by, he held up a nugget to me.
An offering. His version of gratitude.
"You're welcome, bud," I said, ruffling his hair. "You eat it for me."
He popped it into his mouth without looking up, already absorbed in the show.
I walked back to the den and found Aria standing by the fireplace, studying the photos on the mantle. I didn't keep many out—most reminders of my old life were too dangerous, too painful. But there were a few of Finn and me, and his kindergarten school photo.
"He's pretty cute, isn't he?" I asked.
