“Saoirse—” He shakes his head. “Stop. Please, just stop. Stop being Graham O’Sullivan’s daughter and Connor McGregor’s wife for a moment, andseewhat you’re doing. What you’re losing, in the name of duty and commitment to men who only want to use you for what you can give them.”
“What happened to your nose?”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Bloodyhell—” Niall curses, bringing one fist briefly to his mouth as he turns away. “Everything I’ve said, and this is what you take from it? The paternity of Liam’s child and my fucking nose? That’s all you have to talk about? Christ, Saoirse, I didn’t know you could be this fucking cold, but I guess I should have.”
That feels like a knife to my chest, and I have to blink back the burning tears. “Niall—please. I already told you—”
“I know what you told me.” He takes a step forward, but he doesn’t reach for me this time. “Connor broke my nose, okay? I went to the gym, not knowing he’d be there, and yeah, I might have riled him up a little. Maybe it’s partially my fucking fault. But he said some shit about me being with you earlier that day, and I said some shit back, and we ended up in a fight. He got me down and punched me in the fucking face. If his buddy hadn’t pulled him off me, he probably would have killed me.” Niall shakes his head. “He doesn’t know how to pull his head out of his ass, Saoirse, and I don’t think he ever will. He’s tied up in knots over you, same as you are for him, but he’s too goddamn prideful to admit it. And you are, too, honestly. You want to play both sides, just like he does, thinking if you don’t ever make a choice, you won’t get hurt. But you bloodywill, and you’ll hurt everyone else around you while you do it.”
I stare at him, stunned. “Niall—”
“I don’t want to hear excuses.” He shakes his head. “I want the truth.”
My lip catches between my teeth as I look at him, feeling my heart sink like a stone in my chest. The space between us is hardly an arm’s length, but it feels like an ocean.
“The truth is—I know Connor might not love me. I know he might only be using me for what I can do for him,” I whisper, hearing my voice crack and shudder slightly as I try to breathe, try not to cry. “But I can’t make all this any messier than it already is until I figure out whatmyfeelings for Connor really are. It’s not right, it’s not fair to me—and it’s not fair to you, either. You deserve more, and I know it. But Ican’tgive you more, Niall. I just can’t. If I left with you, I’d spend my whole life looking over my shoulder, and so would you. I can’t just shake it all up and start over on a whim. I’m not that kind of person, and even if I was—I don’t know if Iwantto.”
I take a deep breath, seeing the hurt darken in his eyes, but he’d asked for the truth. “I think I’m in love with my husband, Niall, as awful and pathetic as that feels with the way things are between him and me right now. And I need to figure this out. Maybe in the future, if things between us don’t change—and they probably won’t—I’ll take a lover. That lover might have been you—but it’s clear we can’t do that. You want more than I can give you.”
“What doyouwant, Saoirse?” His voice is calm and even, but it doesn’t fool me. I can hear the waver of emotion just below it.
“What I want—what Ineed—is to figure out how to make my life the wayIwant it. I don’t need or want to change up my life for another person right now. I did it for my father, for Connor, and now I have to find out how to make something of this for myself as well. To stay here and figure it out, not run away from it. I’ll never be happy if I run away now, and I know it—and I have to be true to myself.” My eyes are burning now, tears slipping from behind my eyelids, and I can’t stop them. “I can’t get caught up in another confusing, passionate love affair right now. I’ll just get hurt, and I’ll hurt you too—and everyone else, like you said. I can admit you’re right, Niall, but I can’t give you what you want. I’m—” My voice catches, and I swallow back a sob. “I’m so sorry.”
The look on his face is the most painful thing I’ve ever seen. He looks broken, as if I’ve taken every hope he had and killed it, crushed it beyond recognition.
“In another life, maybe it could have worked out,” I whisper helplessly. “But not this one, Niall. I can’t—”
“I get it.” He cuts me off, his voice like the jagged edge of shattered glass. “You don’t have to say anymore.” Niall pauses, his gaze searching mine, and I see the moment that the last bit of fight goes out of him, his shoulders sagging slightly with acceptance. “Thank you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion, and I stare at him in confusion.
“For what?” I whisper, clenching my hands to keep from reaching for him.
“For letting me know what it feels like to love someone so much that my heart could be broken.” He steps forward, opening the door. “Goodbye, Saoirse.”
There’s nothing to do but leave. I want to stand there looking at him, to memorize his black hair and chiseled face and blue eyes, his tattooed arms and his muscular body, to remember the moments we shared, but I know that’s not fair. We’ve both said all we had to say, and we’re done. There’s nothing left.
“Goodbye,” I whisper, my voice catching, and I walk through the door.
The sound of it closing behind me feels like a punch in the gut. I don’t even feel my phone vibrating in my pocket at first, I’m shaking so hard, but when I realize it, I grab it as I walk down the stairs, afraid that it’s Connor.What if he came home early, and I’m not there?I don’t have the energy that a fight over Niall would take tonight, especially after we just “broke up”—or whatever you can call it, when we weren’t even really together.
But it’s not him. It’s Caterina, and as I answer it, I feel a wave of relief. “Hello?”
“Hi, Saoirse? I’m sorry, I know it’s a bit late. But can you meet me?”
I pause mid-step, confused. “Maybe? What’s going on?”
“Just come, if you can. I have something you might want to see.”
17
CONNOR
I DON’T FUCKING WANT TO BE HERE.
It’s not a thought I’ve ever had while walking through the door of an establishment like this before.
The sex club back in London was like a second home to me. I’d had my reserved room there, visited as often as I could afford it, and enjoyed every second. I’d loved the thrill of meeting a new woman, the discovery of a new body, learning her kinks and unique pleasures and reactions, and the excitement of someone new touching me. The absolute lack of strings or consequences or a need for anything beyond a single night where we would give and receive pleasure shamelessly.
I’d felt free there, freer than I had anywhere else, except maybe on the back of my motorcycle.