“Why do you want to leave at all?” she interrupts, whirling on me. “This is your home.”
Home.
Another word that’s unexpectedly triggering.
“Carla,” I say as gently as I can, “kiddo, I love it here. I love you. I love Gaspar. I even love your grumpy old man. But this isn’t my home.”
Her eyes go wide. I can see that I’ve hurt her, but I also need her to understand.
“I told you,” I continue, “I have a friend out there who needs me.”
“He’s managed to get through a year without you,” Carla points out. “So clearly, he doesn’t need you that bad.”
Damn, the kid has claws.
“Carla, basta! Cut it out,” Diego says firmly.
“It’s okay,” I say, stopping him from bringing down the axe.
He never lets Carla get away with mouthing off for too long. Half of her so-called “chores” began as punishments handed down after she’d been snarky or deliberately disobedient.
“I know it seems like I’ve been dragging my feet on this. And maybe I have been because I know I’ll miss you guys a lot—”
“Then don’t go,” she cuts in. “If you don’t go, you won’t have to miss us.”
“I have to.”
“Why?”
“Because I have someone waiting for me.”
“Who?”
“Artem,” I say out loud.
And that’s true. Partly true, at least.
But the name I’m thinking in my heart is Saoirse.
Why, though? Why did my thoughts even go there?
It’s been twelve—no, almost thirteen fucking years. Of course she isn’t waiting for me.
She never was.
But my thoughts have started shifting over the last year. That’s another thing that months of bed rest, a change of scenery, and a fuck-ton of alone time will do to you.
There’s been sufficient time for self-reflection. Time to go back, comb through your past, and dig up memories that you thought you’d buried.
I’ve done exactly that.
And it’s revealed shit that I hoped never to have to re-live again.
It’s forced me back into the shoes of that naïve eighteen-year-old who thought he was invincible because he had a powerful last name and a swagger in his step.
“He doesn’t need you,” Carla snaps at me, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I do. Papa does.”
“Carla, I said that’s enough!” Diego says, raising his voice. “Cillian stayed because of my accident. He stayed so that he could help us out on the farm. He didn’t stay because he wanted to. It would be selfish of us to keep him here any longer.”