Page 112 of The Edge of Never

He bit his lip.

“Still in bed.”

“Lazy fuck.”

Callan snorted.

“He had a late one doon the pub last night with the lads.”

I sat back on the stool and crossed my arms over my chest. I hadn’t come here to talk about Ruairí. My eyes darted away to the window, taking in the landscape spread out before us.

“I have a lot tae say. Am gonnae need ye tae listen and no interject until am done. This is no just aboot Kit… it’s aboot Jenna tae.”

“Ye’re no aboot tae tell me ye’re letting her get in the way of whatever it is that happened between ye and Kit?”

I waved a hand.

“It’s no that simple, Callan. Hear me oot, and ye can share yer damn opinion afterwards.”

I glanced over to find him putting his hands up. Sometimes he wasn’t good at keeping his mouth shut. Usually, I didn’t mind, but I wouldn’t be able to get it all out if he kept interjecting.

When I was sure he was going to do as I asked, I started with my tale. I explained what happened with Kit on the mountain, keeping parts of their story to myself. Kit wouldn’t want me sharing their trauma with someone else without their consent. And I wouldn’t do that to them regardless.

I went on to tell Callan about the argument I had with Jenna in the car, and how Kit was the only person I shared that with. His eyes widened at that part, but he didn’t say a word even as I told him what went on this week while Kit was at my place. As I got to the end, I could tell he was having issues holding back. His hands were fisted at his sides, and he had a troubled look in his eyes.

While I talked, he’d made me coffee and pushed it across the kitchen island towards me. I finally took a sip and stared down at the dark granite top, awaiting his opinion on everything. It took Callan a few minutes before he spoke. He leaned his arms on the counter and stared at me.

“Ye kept that fucking quiet.”

“Which part?”

“Jenna. Ye should’ve told me what she said tae ye.”

“Why? What difference would it have made?”

He slapped a hand on the countertop, making me jolt.

“Ye wouldnae have been carrying that around for two years all by yer lonesome.”

I shrugged and fiddled with the mug handle.

“It didnae feel relevant after she died.”

He let out a sigh.

“How is it no relevant, Thane? Ye’re telling me that yer wife wanting a baby after ye spent fourteen years together, knowing that whole time ye didnae want children is nothing, is it?”

“It’s no nothing. It fucked me up, but how can I be angry with her when she died?”

He shook his head and rubbed his face with both hands.

“What she did was no okay. Her death has nothing tae dae with the fact she gave ye an ultimatum. Am no saying she’s no allowed tae have changed her mind over having kids, but tae keep it from ye is fucked up. And then tae dump it all on ye like that… I cannae even imagine daeing that tae someone I love.”

Kit had very similar sentiments about what Jenna did. And I’d had long enough to think about it. To know that they were both right.

“Ye’re allowed tae be angry with her. Yer grief is separate tae that.”

Picking up my mug, I took another sip of coffee and allowed his words to sink in. Maybe that was my problem. I’d never let myself be truly angry with what she’d done. It didn’t feel right when she died, but how could I ever let go when I had unresolved emotions towards her?