Page 72 of Surrender
The guilt.
The distance growing wider every time she and Keefe looked the other way instead of at each other. They’d been through so much together. Survived heartbreak and betrayal, rebuilt their lives from the ground up. But somehow, this—this—was breaking them. And she didn’t know how to stop it.
She didn’t flinch when she heard footsteps behind her.
“A stór,” Liam’s voice was quiet but certain, cutting through the wind like a warm blade. “What’s on your mind?”
Sophie snorted softly, her gaze locked on the horizon. “I think you already know the answer to that question.”
He came to stand beside her, close but not touching. Giving her space. He always knew when she needed it.
“I do,” he said. “He loves her, you know. And if you can’t see that then you’re blind in one eye and can’t see out of the other.”
Sophie nodded slowly and frowned. Liam always did know how to speak plainly and get to the heart of the matter. “Thanks for being so subtle. Yes. I know he loves her.”
There was a long pause between them, filled only by the howl of the wind and the distant moaning seals below.
“Then why are you standing here at the edge of a cliff drinking away your cares?” Liam asked, not unkindly. “Don’t tell me it’s because you’re being stubborn.”
She turned to him slowly. “I’m not being stubborn.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, maybe I am. But it’s not just that.” She looked back out to the sea. “I just…” Her voice caught, and she took a long drink from the bottle, as if it might settle something inside her. “I don’t want him to get hurt. You saw what it did to him when we found out the truth. I’ve never, never, seen him like that before. She didn’t just break his heart, she broke his soul. I don’t want to ever see him like that again.”
Liam was quiet for a moment, then said gently, “I know that. But it's not your choice to make.”
“But I’m his sister.”
“Exactly. You’re his sister. Not his keeper. He’s a grown man, Sophie. And you love him—so love him enough to let him risk it.”
Sophie bit her lip, hard. Her eyes were wet now, but she blinked fast to hold it back.
“If you keep standing in the way of this, even if Gwen’s gone, even if nothing ever happens again... you’ll lose him over it. Not all at once. But slowly. It will never be the same. Not unless you make it right.”
She said nothing.
“You don’t have to like her,” Liam added. “But you do have to trust him. And if you don’t? If you let this thing fester between you, you’ll regret it. For a long time to come.”
She lowered the bottle to her side, gripping the neck of it like a lifeline.
He was right, of course. Liam usually was.
And, despite what she had said, the fact that Darcie, especially Darcie, and Shamus had moved past Gwen’s deception meant a great deal.
“Darcie said that Gwen went back to Dublin… What do you propose I do?” she asked, dryly. “Drive to Dublin, track her down, kidnap her, and drag her back here? Then what? Toss her at Keefe like a gift-wrapped apology?”
Liam’s mouth twitched. He knew she would come around. “Exactly.”
She blinked. “You’re serious?”
“Completely.”
Sophie barked a laugh—just one, low and surprised. Then she stared at him. “You think I’m going to march into Gwen McKenna’s posh little apartment and what, offer her an apology and a ride back to the middle of nowhere and that we’ll skip back to the car holding hands?”
“I think,” Liam said, as he stepped closer and laid his hand on the small of her back, “that you’re going to tell her the truth. That you made a mistake. That you let your protective side bulldoze your brother’s happiness. And then, if she’s willing... you drive her back, and let the rest unfold. That’s all.”
Sophie closed her eyes. The wind was colder now, biting through her sweatshirt. Or maybe that was guilt.
