I've never watched a grown man break the truth to someone like it was a bone he had to set himself.
We sat in his office an hour later, the ruined garage still smoldering somewhere behind us, and I watched Ronan pour two glasses of whiskey neither of us had asked for, his hands not quite steady as he did it. He hadn't spoken since the wall. I'd let the silence stretch as long as I could stand it, but my patience for his careful pacing had burned down along with everything else that night.
I watched him circle the room twice before he finally sat down across from me, like the truth he was carrying needed physical distance covered before he could set it down. Whatever composure he usually wore like a second skin had entirely deserted him tonight — his jaw was tight, his hands restless on t
