Page 121 of Vengeful Vows

“I could have died, Cillian.”

“But you didn’t. And even if you had, she didn’t pull the trigger. Her father did. But can you blame her? She wanted to be rescued.”

“That's not what happened," I say stiffly.

“No, but Murphy’s to blame for that, not Bree. She just wanted to go home.”

Cillian’s words repeating what Bree said are driving me up the wall.

“And why would she want to go home?” I burst out. “I’ve given her everything.”

“Not everything,” Cillian murmurs.

“Money, clothes, a roof over her head, protection?—”

“Freedom.” Cillian raises his eyebrow. “You took away her freedom, Declan. You gave her no choice.”

I frown, glaring at him, but in the end, I know that he’s right. She didn’t have a choice in this marriage. She didn’t have a choice in any of this.

So, how can she love me?

My shoulders slump.

Of course, she doesn’t love me, after what I’ve done. How could she? When she asked me to put myself in her shoes, it had shaken me a little.

She is right. About all of it.

And what am I supposed to do now? Now that I love her. Now that I’ve lost her.

“You wanna come to my place and get fucked up?”

I let out a breath. “Fuck it. Let's go.”

Two hours later, we’re singing Irish ditties and drinking Jameson. I keep getting these waves of despair, a depression that makes my shoulders slump.

“You’re thinking about her again,” Cillian warns.

“I can’t stop thinking about her.”

He shoves a glass at me, but the amber liquid doesn’t seem appealing to me anymore.

“Maybe I should go home.”

“You should stay here. Don’t want to say anything to her that you might regret.”

“Too late.”

I let my head fall forward, banging it on the kitchen table, and Cillian snorts out a laugh.

“Man, this is why I don’t get close to women. One-night stands are all I need.”

“Not like I planned this,” I mutter, taking the drink glass and rolling it around in my hand before taking a sip with a grimace.

It still burns, so I’m not drunk enough yet, I suppose.

“Has there ever been a woman for you?” I’m curious, and since we’re both close to shitfaced, he might actually tell me the truth.

“Not since high school.” Cillian’s voice sounds hoarse and far away.

---