Page 95 of Forbidden Protector

But it’s the couple in the corner that catches my eye first.

They are on their feet as soon as we enter. Glass drops to the floor, shattering at their feet.

“Roisin?”

If Arnie’s reassuring hand wasn’t resting on my lower back, I think I might have collapsed.

“Aimee?” I whisper back.

The woman before us resembles my sister. But long gone are the scrubs and messy bun I became so accustomed to in LA. Her red hair is now shiny, tied neatly on top of her head, her clothes pristine and close fitting. She looks elegant, sophisticated. Everything I always knew she could be, everything I always tried to convince her she could be.

But now, it just makes her feel more like a stranger.

I barely look at the man next to her. I’d met Jack Duffy once before all of this, but now he watches me like a hawk as his fiancee takes a step closer to us. Then another.

Suddenly, Aimee is running full pelt at me, tears already streaming down her face.

The embrace almost knocks the wind out of me. But suddenly, she’s there, arms wrapped around me tightly, and she feels like Aimee again. It’s the smell of her strawberry shampoo that makes me begin to sob.

“Roisin. Oh my God. You’re here. You’re really here.”

“I missed you,” I whisper, unable to keep the desperation from my voice. “I missed you so fucking much.”

“I know. God, I know. I missed you too. I was so scared.”

She pulls away just far enough to hold my head in her hands. “Are you okay? Are you hurt at all? Has anyone hurt you? You can tell me.”

I put my hands over hers, watching her chocolate eyes glance frantically over my face. “I’m fine.”

Her eyes land on my ring finger. “Roisin…”

“Arnie has been looking after me,” I continue.

Aimee looks over my shoulder at the man who hasn’t left my side.

“Thank you.” Her earnestness is enough for my tears to fall harder. “We won’t forget this.”

“Perhaps it would be best if we sat down?” Arnie suggests, glancing around the several curious eyes observing our reunion.

Aimee doesn’t release me. She merely wraps an arm around my waist and walks me back to her booth. Arnie follows behind.

Jack looks up at me with a cautious smile. “Good to see you again, Roisin. Arnie.”

Arnie nods as Aimee and I squish ourselves next to each other. She throws her arms around me again and holds me to her, without a thought of how ridiculous we look.

“Jack.” Arnie nods in greeting.

“I think you and I need a chat.” Jack gets up, indicating a booth a little further away. “Let’s leave these two to catch up.”

Arnie doesn’t verbalize his agreement, but the two men walk away a moment later.

I can’t bring myself to care. Aimee ishere. Alive and well.

How many nights did I lie awake when she disappeared? How often has my mind turned to the worst possible scenario? How much alcohol did I drink to numb the pain when I found out she was still in New York? That she’d abandoned me?

Yet I cling to her as hard as she clings to me.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers into my hair. “This is all my fault.”

---