“What’s up, babe? Finished packing?”
“Not yet. Ronan … I was thinking, maybe we shouldn’t go just yet. What’s another week? We could stay for your exhibit and then—”
He sighs. “Babe, I thought we already went over this.”
“But—”
“No. I don’t want any of it. I want you. Just you. Anyway, I just got to Carl’s. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you at the hotel. Love you.”
After hanging up, I stare numbly at the elegant writing on the expensive paper. As Jackie’s words beat me down over and over again, I think of Ronan and our future together. I know that Ronan said that he doesn’t care about the exhibit and how close he is to achieving his dream, but will he still feel the same way when he’s starting all over again, struggling between jobs? Could I look Ronan in the eye and live with myself knowing that I stopped his career because I was selfish?
I’ve lived all my life thinking about no one but myself. My needs and my wants. I never once stopped to consider the consequences of my actions. And because of that, I’ve hurt so many people.
But I can’t do that anymore.
Least of all to Ronan.
I love him too much to let him sacrifice his dreams for me.
I stand by the door and take one last look at my apartment. Every memory, happy and sad and somewhere in between, will remain behind. I need them to stay here, if I am to survive the next few hours, the next few days, the next few months, the next few years—the rest of my life. I must try. I must try for him.
I press a hand to my chest, making sure that my heart is still beating. It feels broken past remedy. But it does. It beats. It beats for him.
It always will.
Ronan
About an hour late, I arrive at the hotel. It took a little longer than I expected to explain to Carl that I wasn’t going to be part of the exhibit. The man wasn’t happy. But he mellowed when I mentioned that he could keep all the photographs and sell them for however much money he wanted. As I was leaving, he told me that I was a fool to throw it all away for a woman. I laughed, not at him, but because life was so fucking sweet. I looked him in the eye and said that I would rather be a fool than to live a life without her in it, and then I left.
I run to the room. I can’t be bothered with patience. Not when my body is vibrating with energy—with love for the woman waiting for me behind those doors. Happiness, need, and the yearning to be reunited with her propel my every step.
I get off the elevator in a rush, bumping into an older lady who appears to be my grandmother’s age. Once I apologize, I impulsively take her by the arms and waltz with her, making her smile and blush rosily as we glide across the hallway. I’m so damn happy, I want the entire world to share the moment with me. I twirl her slowly as we both laugh. She calls me a crazy boy. I tell her that I am crazy—crazy for a woman.
“Oh my goodness,” she says, fanning herself. “It’s been many, many years since I last danced with a handsome stranger such as yourself.”
“The pleasure is all mine, ma’am,” I say, letting her go, and smile shamelessly. “Now if you excuse me,” I take her hand in mine, bowing over it, and kiss it. “My woman is waiting for me.”
I open the door expecting to find Blaire reading in bed. Instead, I’m met with a room bathed in darkness. Odd. Frowning, I reach for the switch and turn the lights on. The bed is empty and so is the room. “Blaire? Are you here, babe?” I ask, heading to the bathroom. Maybe she’s taking a shower. She isn’t in there either.
Slowly, I walk back and look around for any signs that Blaire was even here. As I’m scanning the furniture, there’s a knock at the door. Relief floods me, making me dizzy. There she is. She was just running late. Like me.
There’s a man dressed in the hotel uniform staring at me. “Mr. Geraghty?”
“Yes?”
“A lady dropped this letter for you. She asked me to give it to you personally.”
I shove him to the side and swiftly step outside. “Is she here? Where is she?” Panic rises inside me. No … this can’t be happening. Not again.
“Where is she, man?” My voice sounds desperate. “Where is she?”
“She left, sir.” He swallows, measuring his next words. “I helped her get in a cab.”
My ears begin to ring as I retrieve the letter from his hands. After tipping him, I close the door and attempt to open the envelope. It takes me a few tries because my hands won’t stop shaking. Cursing, I close my eyes tight and breathe deeply.
Ronan,