Page 106 of The Love Destroyers

“You know why we’re here, dammit,” Declan says, rerouting to the kitchen table and running his hand through his hair as he takes a seat. “We have to figure out how to handle this.” He looks tortured, and I remember what Nicole said.

She told me it’s time to tell Emma everything. Maybe she was wrong about that, but my ability to keep the past a secret from my brother and sister just went up into thin air, thanks to Ellie Reed.

I find a bottle of whiskey and pour each of us a juice glass full. Serving my brother and sister, I say, “We don’t need to handle anything. I handled it two years ago.”

And then I tell them. The words feel like acid, but in releasing them, I feel…

Not free, but lighter.

Rosie starts crying, and Declan looks the same way he did after the first time we got into a fistfight as teenagers. Like he’d single-handedly failed both of us.

“I did what had to be done, and we’re fine, so now we don’t have to talk about it anymore,” I tell them.

Declan pushes back from the table to start pacing, which sets poor Carrot off.

“Stop that,” I say, feeling woozy, “you’re scaring Carrot.”

“You like rabbits now?” Declan asks, as if this is more of a betrayal of my personality than the story I just shared.

I shrug. “He’s an asshole, and I like him, and that’s the way it is.”

He shakes his head as if he’s through with my bullshit. “I’m worried about you. This is…this is fucking huge, and you’ve hidden it for years. Why?”

“I knew how you’d react.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Obviously,” I say, slumping back into my chair again and drinking from my glass.

“You shouldn’t be drinking with a mild concussion,” Rosie interjects as she finishes her drink.

“No, I really shouldn’t be,” I agree, then drain the rest of the glass.

Glancing at Rosie, Declan rubs his chin and then says, “Seamus quit smoking, and your sister-in-law has his lighter. He let her keep his flask, too.”

Rosie gasps, her face lighting up with excitement. I don’t have to look into her head to know it’s full of rainbows and butterflies and summer weddings.

“Oh, fucking low,” I say with a groan. “Why would you tell her that?”

“Because we’ve had enough secrets in this family,” Declan insists, Rosie partially speaking over him—“You have a thing for Emma?”

“No!” I lie, getting to my feet. “I quit smoking because I felt like it.”

I want to shove my brother, but I don’t. I want to leave, get in Ingrid, and drive at an inadvisable speed. But I’m not going to do that either. Ididjust drink whiskey on top of pain killers.

Even so, I have to do something.

“Look, you both have to leave. I’m going to get some rest.”

“No you’re not,” Rosie says, her bottom lip protruding slightly. “I know that look.”

“Weknow that look,” our brother corrects.

“Please leave.”

“Only if you promise not to do anything self-destructive,” Rosie says.

“Define self-destructive.”

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