Page 126 of Where We Bloom

“I didn’t realize it was likeyouto be a condescending, coldhearted bitch, but here we are.”

Fiona gasps, clutching at her very real pearls. “You can’t speak to me like that.”

“Oh, aye. I can. That woman didnothingto you. She’s not the reason our marriage failed. She’s not trying to take anything from you. So would you like to explain to me what in the actual feck your problem is?”

“I didn’ttryto be cruel,” she says, her shoulders drooping in defeat. “I honestly wanted to make sure she understood what she’s getting herself into with you because I know from experience that the aftermath can be devastating. She’sso young, Connor. And she’s so desperately in love with you, she might as well be walking around with heart eyes, and we both know that you don’tdolove.”

I shake my head. I don’t want to hurt her, but she took a shot at my angel, andno onein this world gets to do that without consequence. “I’m in love with her. Desperately. Completely. Irreversibly, and I’ve told her so. Often.”

Fiona’s eyes register hurt before she schools her features and clears her throat.

“I see.” She swallows hard and nods. “Do you know that in the five years we were married, you neveroncesaid those words to me? Not one time.”

I lift an eyebrow. “No, I didn’t.”

“So it’s not that you’re not capable, just that you weren’t able to loveme.”

“Fiona.” I sigh and push my hands through my hair. “What in the actual—Where is this coming from after a dozen years, another marriage, and two kids? None of this is news. I’m notcheating on youbecause it’s been over for what feels like a lifetime. If you’re half the friend you claim to be, you’d be happy for me, with maybe ahintof concern. You don’t attack the woman I love in my own bloody office.”

“It has disaster written all over it. Besides, what am I supposed to think? The age gap is significant, Connor, and she comes from a family with such meager wealth, it screams gold digger.”

“If you want to keep your position with this company, you’ll watch your goddamn mouth.”

Her mouth opens and then closes again.

“Like Billie told you, you don’t know us, and what’s between us is none of your fecking business. I don’t carewhat you think about my relationship with Billie. If you think I’d choose you and our friendship—which is hanging on by a bloody thread—over the love of my life, you don’t know me at all. But I’m going to give you a piece of advice.”

I cross to her and sense that the rage boiling inside me is written all over my face. Her eyes widen.

“Upset her again, and you’ll regret it. If you can’t handle seeing me with her, you need to find another position elsewhere. Because she’s not going anywhere.”

“Ronan—”

“Agrees.”

Both of our heads turn to see my best friend standing in the doorway, his blue eyes fierce as he stares at his wife.

“I don’t know what you did,” he says, his voice hard, “but you were wrong. And if you’re still in love with him, you should have said so a long time ago.”

“No, that’s not it at all,” she says, shaking her head, looking desperate now. “I’mnotin love with Connor. I don’t know if I ever truly was. How can you love someone like that when they don’t return the feelings?”

Ronan’s eyes soften slightly, but I can see the hurt there, too, and it makes my stomach clench.

Jesus, Fiona.

She sighs, shakes her head, and throws her hands up at her sides. “I had good intentions. Warn the girl that Connor Gallagher is emotionally unavailable. Then I discovered that there are real feelings there, and yeah, it bruised my pride because once upon a time, I wantedthose feelings from you. It doesn’t matter that I don’t want them now. It still gave me a jolt.”

“We need to have a private conversation,” Ronan says, suddenly looking tired, and I nod.

“And I need to find my angel and make sure she’s okay.”

I breeze past Fiona, but when I get to Ronan, I lay my hand on his shoulder.

“I’m happy for you,” he says to me. “And that’s the truth of it, mate. You deserve to be happy.”

“So do you,” I remind him before I walk out of the room and head for the restroom that Billie walked into ten minutes ago.

When I walk inside, I find her standing in front of the sinks. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and she’s scowling at her own reflection.

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