Page 164 of Not Another Yesterday
“I thought about Rica all the time. I wanted to check in, to make sure she was okay, but I was terrified. I didn’t think I could survive going back to that life. And I left her behind.”
Ashley speaks gently beside him. “It took Mac a long time to open up about everything. He didn’t tell me until I got pregnant with Mark.”
Cormac swipes quickly at his eyes. “I was so scared of becoming a dad. I thought—what if I’m like him? What if that violence is in me too?”
The silence that follows is dense. I stare down at the coffee table, at the candlesticks and the glossy books that haven’t been thrown or broken or used as weapons. My throat tightens.
“My girlfriend is pregnant,” I say, not looking up. “And I’m really scared I won’t be able to break the cycle.”
My dad shifts beside me and pulls me into his side, his arm coming around my shoulders. The pressure of his body steadies me.
“Oh, honey,” Ashley says, her voice warm and soft.
Cormac leans forward, eyes locked on mine. “Let me guess,” he says. “You have dreams where you hurt her. You worry constantly about what kind of father you’ll be. You try to keep it all bottled up, thinking that maybe if you say nothing, feel nothing, it won’t come true.”
I nod.
“You probably even thought about breaking things off with her to protect her.”
I glance at him. “I did. I broke up with her,” I say, my voice small.
Cormac offers a knowing, rueful smile. “I did the same thing. I kept telling Ashley she deserved better. That I wasn’t good enough. But I kept talking to her. I went to therapy for years. And eventually, I made a choice.”
He pauses, lets the words settle.
“I made the choice that I wouldn’t be like my father. I knew I loved Ashley more than anything. And when Mark came into the world, I loved him even more. The thought of hurting either of them made me sick. And that’s how I knew—I wasn’t capable of it. I wasn’t him.”
Mark speaks up then, sudden and sure. “My dad has never put a hand me.” His voice is clear. Strong. “Well, that’s not true,” he adds quickly, grinning. “He’s a hugger. Constantly hugging me.”
Ashley laughs softly.
“He coached my T-ball team. My little league team. He never missed a single game, even though he embarrassed the hell out of me cheering. Took me to the park every weekend. Or let me hang out in the shop until I was old enough to help. He was always there. Always.”
Mark looks directly at me.
“He still calls me like a million times a day. And he never lets me forget how much he loves me. Even when I screw up—and I screw up a lot—he never even yells.”
I swallow thickly, blinking hard.
“I’m… Honestly, this helps a lot,” I say.
My dad glances at Cormac. “A few months ago, Ronan decided he wanted to find you. No one even knew if you were alive, but he was determined.”
“Why?” Mark asks.
I take a deep breath. “Because I needed to know if it was possible to change things,” I say, my voice low, cracking. “I needed to know if someone like me could break the cycle. I thought… maybe if you escaped it, if you turned it all around, then maybe I could, too.”
Cormac’s expression shifts, pained but deeply understanding.
“Ronan,” he says gently, “you’re the one who gets to decide what kind of man you’ll be. That decision isn’t made for you.”
He pauses, steadying himself.
“I know what it’s like to feel powerless. I felt that way for most of my childhood. No control over anything, not even my own body. If I spoke up, if I said the wrong thing, it meant pain. So I kept it all inside. For years.”
Ashley’s fingers tighten slightly around his.
“A lot of the time after the abuse ends,” he continues, “you’re left trying to figure out who you are without it. Without the fear, the violence, the shame. It’s hard. It’s confusing. For a long time I thought maybe I was just broken. That maybe the only thing I’d ever be was what he made me.”
