Page 212 of Bishop

He did this time.

Not that I want to get married. I wouldn’t burden the insanity of my life onto anyone, let alone the man who risked death to save me and my daughter. I just need to see him. To know I’m forgiven.

“I guess my actions have changed the very foundation of the man you once knew.” I huff a sardonic laugh. “I was always efficient at breaking the good ones.”

“You didn’t break him.”

“No?” I swing back around to face my brother, wanting to tell him I know exactly what broken looks like because I’ve stared at its reflection in the mirror for years. Instead, I say, “So why hasn’t he called? Why isn’t he here?”

He winces. “I wish I knew.”

We fall silent, nothing but the far off squeak of door hinges carrying from down the hall.

“I should find Layla and start making a shopping list.” He focuses on Tilly with a sad smile. “I don’t have the first idea of where to begin when it comes to buying things for children.”

“That makes two of us.” I place Tilly on her feet, my arms aching from constantly holding her. “But I can order everything once you’re gone. You need to rest.”

“That’s all I’ve done for days.” He starts across the room.

“Wait. There’s something that’s been playing on my mind since the other night that I need you to clarify.”

He stops. Turns. “What is it?”

I swallow, reliving the memories and the horror that comes with them. “Bishop took the blame when Mom was condemning me for our father’s death. He mentioned the warehouse fire and the recent brake issue on Dad’s car. He said he manipulated you into gaining revenge. That he’d been pushing you toward taking action for years. Is that true?”

A part of me begs for him to say yes. To place some sort of accountability on Bishop’s shoulders so that his injuries aren’t entirely my fault.

But Matthew’s face sobers. “No. He hated Emmanuel for what he did to me, but I was never in a place where I wanted to take action that could affect you or our brothers, and he respected that. I assume he was only saying whatever he could to protect you.”

To protect Tilly, I want to clarify. But I don’t even know if that’s true.

The more I think about it, and after the way he left, the more I believe Bishop’s actions had nothing to do with caring for me or my daughter at all.

He wanted to make up for his past. To right the wrongs that caused his sister’s death. And he achieved that.

Now he’s gone.

“Is that the answer you wanted?” Matthew asks.

I swallow. Nod. “Yeah. I’m just trying to understand him. That’s all.”

“I know. But sometimes there’s no making sense of Bishop.”

I disagree.

After everything I’ve learned, he makes nothing but sense.

He protected me fiercely because he thought he was making up for failing his sister. He cared for me during my panic attacks because that’s one of the only loving lessons he was taught from parental figures as a child.

None of it was about me.

It was all based on his past. On his trauma.

“You’ll hear from him soon.” Matthew gives a sad smile. “I have faith.”

I don’t.

I’m convinced I mean nothing to Bishop. I never did.

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