“I didn’t mean to say all of that. I got carried away in the moment.” He grips my waist harder, pulling me in to his body. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not letting you off the hook that easily, and I have something I need to say.” I cup his face in my hands. “How can you think you are second best? I have told you time and time again it wasn’t a competition, but the truth is, I chose you, Dillon. I choseyou.” I let that truth settle for a second before continuing. “But you didn’t choose me. All you had to do was come to the airport and stop me from getting on that plane. I told you that in my letter, but still you didn’t come.” Movement in my peripheral vision distracts me a little, but I stay focused on Dillon, watching the frown appear on his brow.
“What are you talking about? What letter?”
“The letter I wrote you the night I left Ireland. I put it through your mailbox.”
He frowns. “I didn’t see any letter. I didn’t get it.”
My eyes startle wide. “Oh my God. This explains so much. I couldn’t understand how you could write those hateful lyrics about me when the ball had been in your court. I waited till the very last second to board the plane, praying you would show up, but you didn’t.” And of course, now I know he tried to come after me, but Reeve deleted his calls, leading me to believe Dillon never truly cared for me.
“That fucking bitch!” Ash jumps up, eyes burning. “Aoife was there that night. That bitch must have taken it.”
“She didn’t,” Ronan says, and I swing my gaze on him as Dillon turns around. Ro wets his lips, looking nervous as he looks us straight in the eyes. “Aoife didn’t take the letter. I did. I threw it in the bin before Dillon had a chance to see it.”