always offering. And hell, maybe if you stopped supporting your dad, he might actually get off his ass and do something. He’s your parent, not the other way around.”
She was right. Her aunt was right. And Ronan was right.
“I think I’ve been hiding behind it all,” Audrey admitted. “Because nobody can argue with me if I say I need to care for my family. It’s a certified conversation stopper. But I’ve been using it as a shield to avoid…well, everything.”
It was easier to avoid. Easier to soldier on with the day-to-day.
“Do you really think Ronan overstepped by looking into some options for you?” Nicole asked. “If you think he did, then that’s totally fine. But maybe he really believes he has your best interests at heart.”
“At first I felt like he was saying I wasn’t good enough because I didn’t finish high school,” she said, cringing at how she’d reacted. It was nothing but a projection of her own fears and criticisms. “But I think that was me judging myself.”
“We all do it,” Nicole said, resting her head against Audrey’s shoulder. “You deserve an amazing life with a hot guy and loads of incredible sex and as many boring textbooks as your heart desires. Your mom would want all of those things for you, too.”
Audrey looked down at her mom’s grave. Her heart was achy and full and so very scarred, but coming here today hadn’t been the breaking point she thought it would be. It hurt, sure. But it also fueled her, and that was a hope-inducing surprise.
Audrey swallowed against the lump in her throat from all the crying. She couldn’t keep going on like she had been—because she was miserable. She’d been miserable for years, even though she tried her hardest not to let anyone see. She had obligations—more than most. But maybe that didn’t have to define her.
Maybe she didn’t have to be scared of the future…or of love.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ronan walked up his grandmother’s street, trepidation in each step and the book in his hand heavy enough to sink the Titanic. After Audrey had left his apartment, he’d let the box of books sit untouched for almost three weeks. Then, after deciding he was sick of looking at the damn thing, he’d started to sort through it.
Lo and behold, there was a first edition inside, from the 1970s. It was a little beat-up, but the design was beautiful—a black hardback with gold details, including a depiction of the ever-present Poirot and his infamous mustache. The title had felt appropriate. Curtain: Poirot’s Last Case.
That’s what Ronan got for not believing in fate—a dark joke from the universe.
It seemed even more appropriate now, given coming here would mean facing his mother again. And any time he visited in the future.
He paused at the front door of the townhouse he’d lived in right up until he left for Harvard without a backward glance. Charlestown was as he remembered. The street was almost impossibly narrow, with cars jammed along one side and colorful clapboard houses sitting like rows of book spines on a shelf. The Bunker Hill Monument wasn’t far away, and there were younger families walking along the street, hand in hand. Some tourists, too, who’d probably wandered from the Freedom Trail to look at the historic neighborhood.
Ronan steeled himself and raised his hand to the front door. He knocked three times and waited, clutching the book. A second later, the door swung open, and his mother stood there, a dressing gown wrapped around her body and bags under her eyes.
“Hi, Mom.”
To his total surprise, his mother threw her arms around him and pulled him close. His body stiffened at first, unused to such open affection from her—it had been decades since she’d hugged him. But the second her familiar scent hit his nostrils, Ronan’s tough exterior was challenged. For how many years as a child had he begged for this moment?
There was so much baggage to sift through. But Audrey’s words echoed in his head: you can sympathize with her situation while still being hurt.
He wrapped his arms around his mother’s small frame. He wasn’t sure how long it would take to fully forgive her for what she’d done to him and Keira when they were children, but he only had one opportunity for closure. If he decided not to allow her into his life, then at some point that decision would be forever.
He thought about Audrey and all she’d done for her family, about how big her heart