Chloe’s frustrationwith Ronan fueled her for the rest of the night. Just like everyone else, he didn’t trust her to handle things. As if she were feeble and weak-minded.
She thought back to Ronan’s painting. He’d said she was his happiness.
That thought—the feeling—contradicted his actions.
She began wiping off tables so they could get everything done quickly. As she locked up behind the cleaning crew that just arrived, she realized that the contradiction was what made her crazy.
It was like living with Tim all over again. Feeling underestimated. Her feelings being dismissed.
But Ronan never made her feel small and useless.
Fuck. She threw the rag she’d been using against the table. Tim was still fucking with her head, making her doubt herself and Ronan.
“You okay?” Johnny asked.
“Yeah, just frustrated and tired.”
“Head home. You’ve had some long days. I’ll finish up here.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. The cleaning crew will handle most of it. Get some rest.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” She grabbed her things and hustled out. She didn’t bother calling Ronan first. She just drove to his house and hoped he’d still be awake.
She rang the bell and Ronan answered, wearing low-slung shorts and nothing else. Her mind went blank.
“Hey. I gave you a key,” he said, stepping back from the door.
Caught up in all her thoughts, she’d completely forgotten about the key.
“I gave up. I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
She entered the house and looked around his living room. “No Declan?”
“We moved the mattress upstairs so we both have more privacy.”
“Cool. Can we talk?”
“Sure. Let’s go to my room.”
She followed him to his bedroom. He sat on the bed and patted the mattress beside him.
“I’ll stand.”
“That doesn’t sound good. Look. If this is about tonight and me hitting that guy—”
“It is. But not really.” She blew out a breath. “I was really mad that you stepped in. I felt like you didn’t think I could handle the situation, which is literally my job.”
Ronan opened his mouth, but she held up a hand.
“The thing is, once I thought about it, I realized that my reaction was a little over the top and that has nothing to do with you.” She licked her lips and walked the length of the room while searching for the words.
She stopped in front of his window and stared blankly outside into the dark. “My ex, Tim, didn’t treat me well. He never hit me, but he made me feel small and stupid all the time. At first, it was minor comments here and there about how I didn’t do something right. Then it got worse. He would outright call me names and when I’d call him on it, he acted like he didn’t or that I was overreacting.”
Ronan let loose a low growl but said nothing. She turned to face him. His hands were fisted on his thighs and his blue eyes were stormy as he stared at her.
She took a steadying breath and sat beside him. “It took a long time for me to realize he was gaslighting me all the time. He made me doubt every part of myself.”
Ronan opened his hands and refisted them. Chloe placed her hand on top of his.
“I’m okay,” she said quietly.
“He deserves an ass-kicking.”
“I doubt it would do any good.” She unfurled his fingers and held his hand. “I’m not telling you this to get you all worked up. I realized tonight that my experience with Tim colors how I react to things. I’m so afraid of letting that happen again—of losing myself—that sometimes I am going to overreact.”
Every line of his body, every muscle was tense. Anger rolled off him, but she wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t even uncomfortable.
He scrubbed a hand over his head and then gently sandwiched her hand between his two giant palms. “I would never intentionally do anything to make you feel bad about yourself, and I want you to promise me that if I ever say or do anything that affects you that way, you’ll say so. I didn’t get involved tonight because you couldn’t handle that asshole. You shouldn’t have to. And I couldn’t bear the thought of him laying hands on you in any way, especially to hurt you.”
She smiled. “I know.”