Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
I have to get away. I have to make my own way in this world. It’s time for me to become who I’m meant to be, and I can’t do it under the shadow of my older sister or in the presence of a man bent on tearing my heart into little bitty pieces.
“Don’t make this choice because of the scholarship, lass,” Nolan says quietly. “You know we’ll send you anywhere you want.”
And I do, I do know that. I appreciate that the McCarthy family’s generous with their wealth. But a part of me feels if I take this scholarship, I won’t be beholden to them. And that matters to me.
“Thank you, but I’ve made my decision.” They say I’m proud and stubborn, and I don’t deny it.
“Well, then,” Nolan says. “We’ll support you, Fiona.”
Sheena winces.
My throat feels tight, and my eyes water. I nod, unable to say anything at first but a weak, “Thank you.”
“We’ll talk about this in the morning,” Nolan says. “I’ll have to talk to Keenan as well.”
“Thank you,” I repeat, the words so small and inadequate. They’ve done so much for me. “Goodnight.”
I head to my room and shut the door. The click it makes feels like it has an air of finality. A lump forms in my throat and I swallow it down hard, because I will not cry over this. I’ve made a decision. One I hope I don’t regret.
It’s time for me to move away from Ballyhock.
I prepare for bed in a sort of daze. I clean the little makeup I wear off my face, brush my teeth and hair. I stare at myself in the mirror, surprised to see I look older tonight. Maybe it’s because I’ve told Sheena and Nolan it’s time for me to move away. Maybe it’s the pain of seeing Lachlan holding another woman. Or maybe I’m just tired. I sigh.
I look older than my eighteen years, and I wonder at times if I really am older. I’ve lived through so much. I don’t feel like the carefree teenagers I know from school. Aisling talks freely of boys and makeup and her favorite bands.
I don’t care about frivolous things. I care about making solid choices that will help my future. I care about settling down one day with a good man who’ll take care of me, not one looking to get laid. I suppose when you’ve lived like I have, seen what I have, you don’t take second chances lightly. I welcome the responsibilities of adulthood, because bloody hell, I’ve long since shed the frivolity of youth.
I lie down, sleepy from the drinks I had, but wishing I’d had more to really knock me out. My heart is heavy. I lie on my side and close my eyes, and it isn’t until I hear Nolan and Sheena heading to bed that I really let myself feel. That I drop down my guard and let the emotions of the evening swallow me whole.
The lump in my chest and the ache in my heart give way to tears. I face my pillow, bury myself in it, and I finally let myself cry.
I love Lachlan McCarthy. I have loved him since before it was proper, and hell, I’m not sure it’s even proper now. The moment I first laid eyes on him, when I was only a child, something in me whispered one quiet, unbidden word.
Him.
At first, I blamed my teenager hormones, thinking it was only a schoolgirl crush. But bloody hell, that was five years ago, and not a single boy has ever turned my head since.
I love a full-grown man, and he doesn’t love me back.
I can still feel his cold gaze in the garden the night of my party. And I’ll never, never be able to erase the image of him with another woman in his arms from my mind.
I weep until my pillow’s wet with tears, my eyes are swollen, and my head throbs. I hope letting myself cry is like leaching poison from a wound, but it doesn’t work that way. The longer I cry, the heavier my heart feels.
There comes a sort of quiet after a sob fest. I try to rest, but I’m too pent up, too mired in misery to settle my mind and get to sleep. There are no more tears to spend, but it feels as if there’s no hope, either.
I finally sit up and sigh, rubbing my hand across my face. I pick up my phone and text Megan. It’s midnight, and she’s likely in bed. Nolan’s cousin, wife to Clan member Carson, Megan is someone who gets it. Really, truly gets it, unlike Aisling ever will. Until she finally gave into the protection of the Clan, Megan fought it tooth and nail. She hated being trailed by the guard and insisted that her cousins give her freedom.