Page 82 of Manacled Hearts

“I brought her in the business. Her and I never stopped being friends.”

“But we did.” I end that sentence for him.

“That was not my choice, brother.”

I can’t help but scoff, keeping my gaze toward the garden, on her. “It was. You left.”

“But you banished me.”

“I was in pain, goddamn it! I was fucking broken, and you abandoned me!” I slam my hands on the bed, turning to him. “What did you expect me to do? I never loved before, Ronan. I didn’t know how it felt to have it be ripped away from you… in such a literal sense of the word. I needed you!”

“I know… I’m sorry. You know this. I just couldn’t keep Annika and Aaro in that situation. I couldn’t keep myself. I know I was selfish, believe me, it fucking hurt me too, but I couldn’t see any other choice.”

I say nothing because he’s not wrong, and goddamn it, I hate that.

“You had The Sanctum, Annika had no one who could understand. Her best friend was brutally murdered and died in her arms… I couldn’t just abandon her. Not when she was pregnant with my child—our blood. But don’t ever think my choice was easy. I missed you so goddamn much, Finn.”

Sighing, I clench my fists around the comforter. So many years have passed, and this explanation makes more sense now. It shouldn’t. It should sound the same, mean the same thing, and feel the same. Yet, it doesn’t. If I was in his shoes, I wouldn’t have left. But do I really not understand why he made that choice?

I think the reason I’ve been so angry and hurt over these years is exactly the opposite—I do understand. At least I’ve grown to understand. But I have no one else to blame, no one else to be angry at. I’m not admitting that to him, though. Turning, I look at my brother, really look at him. Lines have appeared across his features, smile lines under his cheekbones, crow’s feet around his eyes, faint creases on his forehead. But his eyes are the same. Calm, hopeful, caring.

I want to punch him harder.

Why couldn’t he just be an asshole?

“Come on,” I finally say. “Your wife and son are probably waiting for you.” I rise and walk away before he answers.

I can’t bear to be in this room with him anymore.

“He asks about you, you know,” Ronan says behind me.

I stop, but don’t turn.

“We show him photos.” he continues when I don’t answer, “We tell him about you, but he’s never satisfied.”

“He doesn’t even know me, why isn’t he satisfied?” I ask.

“Because for the first few years he couldn’t understand why he didn’t know you. Why you didn’t want to meet him. We told him your job keeps you away.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I walk away this time, and he follows, passing with me through the hall, then back in the living area.

“He loved the books.”

My steps falter.

“He’s read them all. Several times. They’re his favorites and he keeps them away from all the others.”

I never sent anything to Ronan or Annika. Never spoken with them since they left. Didn’t even text. But… I felt bad that I had a nephew out there who would never know me. I wanted a connection, even a faint one. Every once in a while, when Katya sent them a package or met with them, I gave her a book. I told her not to mention they were from me, and she promised she wouldn’t. It’s possible that she lied… or perhaps Ronan simply knew. Hearing that Aaro loves them makes me feel a certain way.

“There you are.” Annika walks in through the patio door, heading straight to her husband, and wrapping her arms around his middle. “The munchkin might need sleep soon. He’s wired and smitten, it seems.”

Both Ronan and I turn to the patio at the same time. Annika’s right. The way the kid looks at Maya is funny and endearing at the same time—he is indeed smitten. Though, he’s trying to play it cool. Stealing glances when she’s not looking.

“Evelyn said she’s leaving, though, so it would be a good idea for us to head out as well,” Annika continues.

“Actually, Vincent offered us to stay here. It’s safe, there’s security patrolling the woods, and it would be better for you and Aaro,” my brother answers her.

I could offer his old room in the penthouse, but it feels like a step too far. Too quick. I would rather get him in the ring and smash his face in first. It wouldn’t achieve much, but it would certainly make me feel better.

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