He handed a glass of wine to Courtney and held up his glass. "May ya never lie, steal, cheat, or drink. But if ya must lie, lie in each other's arms. If ya must steal, steal kisses. If ya must cheat, cheat death. And if ya must drink, drink with us, your friends. To me friends!" He started to bring his glass to his lips and added, "And ya, too, Courtney."
I almost laughed. I felt wound so tight and a burst of hysterical laughter seemed like it might release some tension. Courtney glared at him and Brogan uttered, "Fionn," in a warning tone, and so I simply took a small sip of my wine and replaced it on the table.
I couldn't do this. I put my hands on my thighs, ready to stand up. This had been a hideous idea. Or it might not have been if Brogan had shown up alone. Why was she here? But he hadn't, and I might have been able to plow ahead despite the chill of Brogan's silence, but I couldn't do this in front of Courtney. I felt shaky and sick. Eileen put her hand on top of mine before I could move.
"So, Lydia, what have ya been up to recently?" she asked, looking at me pointedly. I glanced at Brogan who was looking off behind me somewhere, that same muscle working in his jaw.
"Um, well, I . . . I re-enrolled in school. I'm getting my teaching degree. I hope to work at a college, teaching history when I graduate. And I'm working at a small clothing boutique."
Brogan's eyes snapped to mine. "Your teaching degree? A boutique? You own a company. Why wouldn't you work there?" He closed his mouth and grimaced as if asking me a question resulted in physical pain.
Courtney picked imaginary lint off Brogan's shoulder. "A teacher. I think it's sweet," she said, syrup lacing her tone.
I ignored her. "I actually don't want the company, Brogan. I contacted your lawyers and told them as much. You have the ability to run it far better than I can. From what I can tell, it's doing wonderfully." I paused. "Thank you for that. My father would have been very happy. I think . . . well, I think my father would have wanted it that way," I finished softly.
His hands clenched in his lap, and he ran his tongue over that front tooth as he stared off behind me again, the wheels in his head obviously working overtime-on what, I couldn't be sure. My pulse raced. Unbalance him.
When he looked back to me, his expression was raw, tortured. "This isn't a game, Lydia." I shook my head. "I gave ya the company because it's rightfully yours. Always should have been."
"No, Brogan, I'm not playing games. I don't want to play games with you. Not ever again." I took a deep, trembling breath. "I only want-"
"What about the house then?" He looked slightly desperate for some reason I didn't quite understand.
I shrugged. "I can't accept it outright, but I would like to work out terms we can agree upon. I won't be able to pay a lot on a teacher's salary, but maybe I could do some volunteer work for your company or-"
"No." My eyes widened at the emotion in his tone, the way his jaw clenched again, the despair that crossed his features.
Courtney's eyes looked slightly wild as her gaze moved between Brogan and me. "No, Brogan is correct. You really should focus on your little teaching job if that's your goal. He doesn't have time to pander to volunteers who-" She let out a loud squeal as Fionn made a strange tripping movement from behind her, spilling his drink all over her left shoulder. She stood suddenly as it dripped down her shirt.
"Oops," Fionn said, shrugging innocently.
Courtney's face turned red with rage. "You did that on purpose, you . . . you clown!"
Eileen sprang up, taking Courtney by the arm. "Let's not get upset over a wee spill," she said. "We'll get that right out. No problem at all. I have the best stain remover in me bathroom. Come with me." She practically dragged Courtney with her, Fionn disappearing into the kitchen. It was suddenly only Brogan and me sitting across from each other.
"Ya shouldn't have come tonight, Lydia."
Hurt speared through me. "I wanted to see you," I said. "I thought-"
"Ya need to get on with your life. I have no place in it anymore."
Grief clogged my throat. I stared at Brogan. The look on his face was hard, unyielding and yet . . . his tongue moved continuously over that front tooth, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles were white.
Brogan. Why are you doing this?
"I forgive you," I breathed. His face broke, raw emotion contorting his features. "God, Brogan, I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. I'm so sorry I didn't give you the chance to explain."
"No," he hissed, visibly swallowing.
I nodded. "Yes. It wasn't your fault. My brother caused his own death. You had no other choice but to defend yourself. And I'm sorry you had to, but I'm glad you did."
"No," he gritted again, letting out a small, strange choking sound. He uttered something in Gaelic, clearly a curse. "I won't allow it."
I stared at him. He didn't allow it? My forgiveness? Sadness moved through me in painful waves. "But that's the thing," I gripped my hands in my lap, "it doesn't matter if you allow it or not. I still forgive you all the same. I still . . . I still love you all the same. And God, I don't want to waste another seven years not letting you know it."
"Lydia," he said, the word filled with torment, breaking on the last syllable. He sat up straight, seeming to gather himself, his expression going hard again. Blank. He took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm not sure what ya thought comin' here tonight would accomplish, but I think ya should leave."
My heart squeezed so tightly I felt as if I couldn't breathe. He couldn't accept my forgiveness, or perhaps he didn't want it. Or maybe he wasn't ready to extend me his. All right then. He wasn't ready for any of this. It had taken me a while to get here, too. But I had said my piece. That would have to be enough. I had done all I could do. Now it was up to Brogan.
I stood on shaky legs just as Courtney's loud voice and clicking heels came toward the living room. She burst in, still rubbing at her shirt with a towel, Eileen behind her, Fionn coming out of the kitchen. I offered them what felt like a wobbly smile.
"Eileen, thank you for your kind invitation to dinner. I think, however, it's best that I decline."
Eileen moved toward me, her hand outstretched, glancing at Brogan. "Lydia, please stay, I-"
"No," I said, gathering my coat and purse. "Thank you, really, but I," I took a deep breath, "it's for the best that I go." Everything inside me hurt, as if I was a walking bruise.
"Well, I'd have to agree," Courtney interjected. Eileen shot her a look so nasty, she withered just a bit beneath it.
I looked once more at Brogan who was sitting as still as a statue, staring at the floor and then my eyes moved to Fionn who was glaring daggers at Brogan. I turned to the door and opened it, looking back over my shoulder once more at Eileen.
"Thank you," I said before I slipped out. Fat snowflakes were drifting from the sky as I walked quickly to my car, not allowing the tears to fall until I had pulled out of the driveway and was halfway down the street.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Brogan
"That's it," I heard behind me right before I was dragged up by my collar. Fionn's fist connected with my jaw in a sucker punch to end all sucker punches. I heard Courtney scream as I reeled backward, falling into Eileen's coffee table.
"What the feck?" I yelled, pulling myself to my feet.
"Yeah, that's right, get up, I'm about to hand your arse to ya on a plate, ya feckin' twat." Fionn danced around me, his fists raised, his head down.
I took a deep breath, putting my hands on my hips and glaring at him, ignoring his theatrics. "I'm not gona fight ya, Fionn." His hand shot out, connecting to my jaw again as I tripped backward over the coffee table, landing on my arse.
Shock and anger exploded through me. "Ya feckin' prick!" I yelled. "I'm gona feckin' beat the shite outta ya, ya mother feckin' dickhead!" I jumped to my feet.
"That's it," Fionn said. "Come on, ya wanker. What a silly cunt ya are. I'm done watchin' ya act like a bloody muppet."
That was it. I was going to kick his arse straight into next week. "I'm bloody sick of ya interferin' in me life," I said as I lunged for him, tackling him onto the couch. I raised my hand to slam it into his manky pretty-boy face when Eileen screamed.
"Wait!" I paused, my fist in the air. Fionn looked over at her, too. "Not in here. Beat his arse outside," she said to Fionn.
"Beat my arse," I said in disbelief. "I'm your brother."