But when I woke up, I was alone—and somehow, I felt the pain of that more than I had ever experienced before now.
* * *
Ronan
I punched at the bag, ducking and weaving to avoid bounce back, hitting it hard. Sweat poured down my back, and my shoulders began to ache from the strain.
“What has the bag done to you lately, son?” my dad drawled as he walked into the gym we had set up in the building.
I stepped back, stilling the motion of the bag, and grinned. “It was looking at me funny.”
He chuckled, rolling his shoulders. “Wanna spar with your old man, instead?”
I tapped my gloves together. “Bring it on.”
His laughter filled the room as he picked up a set of gloves, using his teeth to pull on the second one. He wore a pair of workout pants and a tight shirt, showing off his still-impressive physique. He had always been into fitness and had spent hours with us as kids sharing his passion. He was patient and knowledgeable and made sure we knew how to look after ourselves. He taught us all self-defense, including my sister, Ava, who now held a black belt in karate. No one messed with my elder sister—and she wasn’t above using one of her stellar moves on us if we pissed her off.
For the next twenty minutes, the room was filled with nothing but trash talk, the squeak of our footwear on the mats, and grunts as we advanced and retreated, jabbing punches and uppercuts, and generally enjoying ourselves. I loved sparring with him, learning as he quietly corrected my form, laughing as he pretended to be insulted when I would “land” a punch, chuckling at his insults.
We tapped gloves, tore them off, and both drank deeply from cups we filled at the water cooler. We sank to the floor, our backs resting against the cool cement walls.
“Working out your frustration?” he asked.
“Just letting off some steam.” I patted my face with the towel.
“Wanna talk about it?”
I tilted my head to the side, meeting his gaze. “Talk about what?” I asked, wondering who had asked him to come see me.
“Whatever is bothering you.”
“I don’t recall saying anything was.”
“Your mother noticed you were quiet at dinner on the weekend. Your brothers are worried about you.”
“No need for them to be worried,” I stated mildly. “I’m fine.”
“They think you’re upset over their new girlfriends.”
I swallowed a long drink of water. “They’re wrong. I went to dinner with them last night. I liked both Diane and Kim. They seem very happy.”
“And you’re on your own.”
“Dad, it’s not the first or the last time. We all have our own lives. You and Mom made sure of that. I’m a little preoccupied with all the problems the ABC build is having. Finishing all the details for the hotel. Going back and forth between here and Port Albany.”
“How do you feel about your brothers thinking about not moving?”
“I wasn’t surprised when they told me about meeting the girls. It makes sense they want to stay closer for the moment. And they’ve never wanted to live in Port Albany the way I have.”
“What about you?”
“I still plan on moving out that way permanently—especially once the building is done and we start concentrating on the whole southwest area of the province.”
“No one holding you here?” he asked.
I sighed. “No, Dad. You know there isn’t. And there won’t be,” I added, even as a set of dark eyes and wild curls flitted through my mind. I hadn’t been back to the diner since last week. I had been tempted but resisted.
“She was an anomaly, Ronan.” He paused, frustrated. “I wish you’d tell us what happened. Maybe it would help.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s in the past, and I’m over it. I don’t plan on letting it happen again.” I shoved off the wall and extended my hand to my dad. He grabbed it and pulled himself up, laughing as his knee cracked.
“Jeez, I’m getting old.”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Never. Just a little stiff.”
“That’s what your mother said last night.”
“Oh God, no. Don’t even start that,” I groaned. “No sex stuff about you and Mom.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “She still can’t get enough of me.”
“Whatever.”
He suddenly became serious. “Ronan, I know you feel lost in the shuffle sometimes. Part of a group. But I also know you’re different. You hide it, but your mother and I know.”
“You’re probably the only ones who do,” I couldn’t help but say.
“You’re the protector, the worrier. Your brothers know it too. They love you, and whether you like it or not, the three of you share an incredibly strong bond. You have from the moment you were born. We couldn’t separate you for the longest time. Growing up, you all stayed together. You finished one another’s sentences. You felt one another’s pain. But you felt theirs even more. Even apart, you were together. You can’t ignore that connection.”