Page 38 of Ciaran

Callum shudders. “Creepy as fuck.”

“You said it.”

“So, what happened?”

“He pretended to grovel. She fell for it. They disappeared into the sunset. The End.”

“You’re shitting me.”

I tear the beer label in half. “Wish I was.”

“What did you do?”

“What the hell could I do? They’re married. I’m supposed to, what, drag her off against her will just because I’ve been crazy about her since I was sixteen?”

“Crazy about who?”

Callum and I turn around at the same time. “Hey.” Callum holds out his hand out to Laurella and pulls her to his side, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Envy curls in my gut. I’m so goddamn ready to settle down, to have that kind of intimacy with a woman. Except I only want one woman, and unfortunately for me, she’s chosen her deadbeat husband instead of me.

Life. Fucking. Sucks.

“Who are we talking about?” Laurella asks as she rests on Callum’s right side.

“No one.”

“Millie.”

I glare at my twin. “No one,” I reiterate. It’s hard enough baring my fractured soul to him without bringing his girlfriend into the mix.

“He’s lying,” Callum states. “Millie has gone off with Tanner, and this idiot here stood by while her abusive dick of a husband waltzed off with the love of his life. This was all after she kissed him, which kinda pisses me off, because if she messes with him, she messes with me.” A malevolent grin inches across his face. “And she really doesn’t want to mess with me.”

“I fucking hate you,” I say.

“Okay, slow down,” Laurella says gently, her gaze fixed on me. “That’s a lot of information to process in a few seconds. You love Millie?”

I shake my head. “I don’t love her.” But I could, and it wouldn’t take much. “I like her, and I’m worried about her because Tanner is a bastard. I’m concerned she’ll fall for his bullshit and end up right back where she started.”

“What makes you think she’ll do that?”

“Because he’s a manipulative prick who played her like a fucking violin. He threw himself at her mercy. Said he loves her, he needs her, how desperately he wants her back. She agreed to talk to him.” I check my watch. “That was over two hours ago.”

“Give her some credit,” Laurella says, an impatient edge to her tone. “Of course she’s going to talk to her husband. I don’t know her very well, but she probably thinks she owes him a conversation. She’s not a stupid girl—far from it. Imagine the courage it must have taken for her to finally leave him, and now she has, I’d be surprised if she went back.”

I scrub a hand over my face in frustration. “Except, they normally do.”

Laurella frowns. “They?”

“Abused women when the abuser is the victim’s spouse. It’s textbook. I see it all the time. The women put up with shit from their husbands for years, allowing their self-esteem to slowly erode to nothing. The abuser fills their heads with doubt, the constant criticism breaking them down until there’s nothing left but an empty shell. There will be a trigger—something that makes them pluck up the courage to leave. They do. Then the husband begs for forgiveness, and they go back. The abuse cycle starts all over, oftentimes worse because the abuser has to ‘punish’ the abused for daring to leave them in the first place.” I close my eyes, putting a hand on the counter to steady myself. “I don’t want that for Millie, but I’m scared that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

“It’s not.”

I spin around so fast I crick my neck. Millie is standing at the bottom of the stairwell, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. How long has she been there? How much has she overheard?

“Hey,” I say softly, making my way over to her. “You okay?”

“I’m not going back to Tanner.”

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