Page 19 of Dearest Ronan

“Carol and I want two different things in life.” I’m aware. Nodding, I recall how Carolyn used to ask her dad for money. She sought funds for house expansions and even breast enhancements. Naturally, since Ronan’s desire was to support his loved ones, he’d give in.

Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with plastic surgery or remodeling homes, but the problem exists in not being able to financially afford it.

“Still,” I press, “must not be easy to let go of a marriage that you’ve worked so hard at.”

“What do you want me to say, Anika? That I’ve given her the best years of my life?” A scowl transforms his beautiful face into desperation. I witness first-hand his emotions shoot to the surface. No longer is he a temporary robot, but a human with expansive emotions that bleed out of him.

This emotionally bleeding human can’t stop. Unlike me, he’s not dripping of purple and pink glitter, but of slick oil and sea-bed clay. His voice raises, filling the room with a sense of urgency. “Fifteen years! I dedicated my twenties and thirties to her, and all I have to show for it is a run-down apartment.

“But it’s not her problem, it’s mine, because I’m paying for our mortgage and my rent! I’m fucked, Anika.” His angry eyes tear through me, knocking our emotions together and then intertwining them in bitter honey. “Is that what you want to hear? Does that make you happy?” Complete with his speech, his chest shutters. I want to hold him and murmur that everything will be alright. Burning tears itch my lash line.

He’s such a good man who doesn’t deserve the pain he’s living with. I’d give anything to take it from him. Let me hold it, even if just for a little while.

Unable to contain myself, I shove my face against his chest and bury my left cheek against him. Tears soak through, but I can’t bear to move away. Let them soak his skin until our breaths beat in tangent.

My hands wrap around his waist, hugging him tightly. I’d rather my knuckles ache than let him go. I’m painfully aware how he’s not hugging back, but it’s not entirely my fault I’m unable to resist him. My heart threatens to explode again. No normal human can stand here watching him bleed pain. As mom always reminded me, emotions make us human.

“I’ll help you, okay?” I pull my cheek away to gaze up into his stormy brown eyes that remind me of Mars—the war planet.

He takes a deep breath, causing his chest to brush against my cheek. Bit by bit, he calms. It’s fascinating. Color returns to his cheeks, his breath slows, and his thick brows return to their natural positions. Watching all this, I wonder if he has difficulty expressing himself, hence why I heard him and Carolyn having sex so often growing up.

I still can’t forget walking in on them just after I turned eighteen.

“And I’ll—“ he gulps and seems to change his train of thought. “Look, I’m not going to tell my coworkers or friends about us,butif they specifically ask, I won’t deny it again.“ Don’t beat too much, my bleeding, purple glitter heart. It’s not like he’s declaring his undying love.

I must exude too much happiness, because he squelches it a moment later. “But I don’t need to bring you down to roll around in my mess.”

“You’re not!” I bruise my fingers on his hips, clenching to bring him back to reality. I’m not Carolyn, selfish anddemanding, nor am I the angsty teenager he swore to protect. Sure, I’m still angsty, but I’m an adult now; and this angsty adult is going to help her bitter guardian, who happens to be the love of her life.

“Alright,” he placates. “You continue being your amazing and sexy self—“my cheeks burn at his compliment”—and I’ll relax about our arrangement.”

My poor, ignorant heart quickens. So ignorant. So hopeful for no reason. In reality, I know his feelings for me won’t inexplicably change to love.

Doesn’t mean I can’t pretend.

“In fact,” he continues, “Let’s do something today. Maury gave me tickets to a hockey game. Starts at seven in Vegas.” Ohmigod! Ronan and I in public together? I’m so giddy that I actually clap and jump up and down.

“No snarling if someone asks about us?”

His lips thin into a straight line. “Nope.”

“You won’t shove me into the nearest bathroom if you spot a coworker in the stands and then flirt with a puck bunny to lose them from our trail?” I doubt we’d see anyone we know, seeming as the game is in the next state over.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

I swivel to the clock behind me. We have plenty of time before the game, but Vegas is hours away. It occurs to me that there are hockey teams much closer to us, but I’m so excited over spending quality time with Ronan in public, that I let the thought go.

For the rest of the day, we putter around his apartment before getting in the car and driving to Vegas. We don’t talk much (I hate to admit that I slept for most of the car ride) so when we arrive at the arena, I’m a bundle of jumping joy.

Gripping Ronan’s hand like he’s second from bolting, we wait in line together to grab some snacks before the game.A rhythmic pulse slithers through the crowd, landing on most people it touches. Metaphorically, of course. Buttered popcorn and sizzling hot dogs waft through the air, teasing my taste buds. I love all concession stands.

Seas of faces surround us, and I’d have to strain my eyes to see beyond our little bubble while Ronan toys with the ends of my hair from behind.

Since the crowd is thick, I have difficulty truly seeing how many people are ahead of us in line. Fifty, maybe? Way too eager, I start with the gentleman ahead of me and start counting forward. I’ve reached twenty before I have to stop when I catch a whiff of someone’s strong cologne. It’s like moth balls mixed with vinegar.

Yuck.Bring back the butter and hot dog water!

Not wanting to embarrass whoever is wearing that absolutely awful scent, I crinkle my nose and discreetly wrap my thumb and index finger just below the bridge of my nose to cut off my sense of smell. “So, how many games ya been to?” I ask in a nasally voice.

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