"No, Brogan, I'm not playing games. I don't want to play games with you. Not ever again." I took a deep, trembling breath. "I only want—"
"What about the house then?" He looked slightly desperate for some reason I didn't quite understand.
I shrugged. "I can't accept it outright, but I would like to work out terms we can agree upon. I won't be able to pay a lot on a teacher's salary, but maybe I could do some volunteer work for your company or—"
"No." My eyes widened at the emotion in his tone, the way his jaw clenched again, the despair that crossed his features.
Courtney's eyes looked slightly wild as her gaze moved between Brogan and me. "No, Brogan is correct. You really should focus on your little teaching job if that's your goal. He doesn't have time to pander to volunteers who—" She let out a loud squeal as Fionn made a strange tripping movement from behind her, spilling his drink all over her left shoulder. She stood suddenly as it dripped down her shirt.
"Oops," Fionn said, shrugging innocently.
Courtney's face turned red with rage. "You did that on purpose, you . . . you clown!"
Eileen sprang up, taking Courtney by the arm. "Let's not get upset over a wee spill," she said. "We'll get that right out. No problem at all. I have the best stain remover in me bathroom. Come with me." She practically dragged Courtney with her, Fionn disappearing into the kitchen. It was suddenly only Brogan and me sitting across from each other.
"Ya shouldn't have come tonight, Lydia."
Hurt speared through me. "I wanted to see you," I said. "I thought—"
"Ya need to get on with your life. I have no place in it anymore."
Grief clogged my throat. I stared at Brogan. The look on his face was hard, unyielding and yet . . . his tongue moved continuously over that front tooth, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles were white.
Brogan. Why are you doing this?
"I forgive you," I breathed. His face broke, raw emotion contorting his features. "God, Brogan, I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. I'm so sorry I didn't give you the chance to explain."
"No," he hissed, visibly swallowing.
I nodded. "Yes. It wasn't your fault. My brother caused his own death. You had no other choice but to defend yourself. And I'm sorry you had to, but I'm glad you did."
"No," he gritted again, letting out a small, strange choking sound. He uttered something in Gaelic, clearly a curse. "I won't allow it."
I stared at him. He didn't allow it? My forgiveness? Sadness moved through me in painful waves. "But that's the thing," I gripped my hands in my lap, "it doesn't matter if you allow it or not. I still forgive you all the same. I still . . . I still love you all the same. And God, I don't want to waste another seven years not letting you know it."
"Lydia," he said, the word filled with torment, breaking on the last syllable. He sat up straight, seeming to gather himself, his expression going hard again. Blank. He took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm not sure what ya thought comin' here tonight would accomplish, but I think ya should leave."
My heart squeezed so tightly I felt as if I couldn't breathe. He couldn't accept my forgiveness, or perhaps he didn't want it. Or maybe he wasn't ready to extend me his. All right then. He wasn't ready for any of this. It had taken me a while to get here, too. But I had said my piece. That would have to be enough. I had done all I could do. Now it was up to Brogan.
I stood on shaky legs just as Courtney's loud voice and clicking heels came toward the living room. She burst in, still rubbing at her shirt with a towel, Eileen behind her, Fionn coming out of the kitchen. I offered them what felt like a wobbly smile.
"Eileen, thank you for your kind invitation to dinner. I think, however, it's best that I decline."
Eileen moved toward me, her hand outstretched, glancing at Brogan. "Lydia, please stay, I—"
"No," I said, gathering my coat and purse. "Thank you, really, but I," I took a deep breath, "it's for the best that I go." Everything inside me hurt, as if I was a walking bruise.
"Well, I'd have to agree," Courtney interjected. Eileen shot her a look so nasty, she withered just a bit beneath it.
I looked once more at Brogan who was sitting as still as a statue, staring at the floor and then my eyes moved to Fionn who was glaring daggers at Brogan. I turned to the door and opened it, looking back over my shoulder once more at Eileen.
"Thank you," I said before I slipped out. Fat snowflakes were drifting from the sky as I walked quickly to my car, not allowing the tears to fall until I had pulled out of the driveway and was halfway down the street.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Brogan
"That's it," I heard behind me right before I was dragged up by my collar. Fionn's fist connected with my jaw in a sucker punch to end all sucker punches. I heard Courtney scream as I reeled backward, falling into Eileen's coffee table.
"What the feck?" I yelled, pulling myself to my feet.
"Yeah, that's right, get up, I'm about to hand your arse to ya on a plate, ya feckin' twat." Fionn danced around me, his fists raised, his head down.
I took a deep breath, putting my hands on my hips and glaring at him, ignoring his theatrics. "I'm not gona fight ya, Fionn." His hand shot out, connecting to my jaw again as I tripped backward over the coffee table, landing on my arse.