Cillian doesn’t seem in the least affected by it.
So I pretend the same is true for me.
“The floor is yours, y’know,” I say, making sure he knows I haven’t forgotten that he has a question to answer.
Cillian sighs. “Alright. I’ll tell you,” he says. “You remember my brother from the other day?”
“The one that shot my father?” I snap.
His face falls. “He was aiming for Murtagh.”
“I know,” I tell him. “That’s the only reason I’m sitting here with you right now.”
“Noted.”
A stale, difficult silence unfolds for a few tough seconds.
“Anyway, go on,” I encourage.
“Sean’s the heir,” he explains. “Um… he’s basically going to take over for my father when—”
“I know what ‘heir’ means,” I interrupt “You don’t have to mansplain the term.”
He chuckles under his breath. “Fuck. That is what I was doing, huh? My bad.”
“I’ll let it slide this one time.”
“I appreciate that,” Cillian says graciously. “Well, anyway, long story short, Sean left.”
“Left?”
“Left town, left the O’Sullivan clan, left the family. Left everything, basically.”
Oh.
Well, shit.
“Wow,” I breathe.
“Yeah,” Cillian murmurs. He looks relieved that I seem to have understood just how big a deal this is for him. And for his entire family.
“Why did he leave?”
Cillian hesitates for a moment. “Jesus, how much time do we have?”
I smile sadly. “Complicated, huh?”
He glances at me, probably contemplating just how much he should reveal. How much he should keep secret.
“Can I trust you?” he ventures finally.
“Really? You’re asking me that?”
He cocks his head to the side and waits with an arched eyebrow.
“You can trust me,” I assure him.
He nods like that’s all he needed.