Crossing Paths Again
1069 Words
Chapter Twelve: Crossing Paths Again
The wind off the cliffs was sharp, slicing through the morning like a memory uninvited. Catherine stood on the overlook beside the half-built suspension bridge, its steel cables rising like the bones of something magnificent. Her hard hat bore the crest of Dürer Engineering, her name etched beneath it in bold, unshakable letters.
Catherine Holm
Mother.
Engineer.
Survivor.
Mira sat cross-legged on a nearby bench, tongue tucked in concentration as she sketched the bridge with startling accuracy for an eight-year-old. Leo, still small, waddled around in a vest far too big, tripping over his own giggles while the nanny hovered behind him.
Max walked past her, clipboard in hand, brushing her fingers with his in a brief, grounding gesture. He gave her a wink. “Steel joints look clean. We’re ahead of schedule.”
“I know,” she said with a quiet pride. “It’s solid.”
She meant more than the bridge.
This life she had rebuilt—this family she had chosen—it was solid too.
Then she turned.
And saw him.
Ronan.
Standing just beyond the orange cones, a visitor badge crumpled in one fist, the other gripping his coat like he needed to anchor himself. The wind pulled at his collar. But it couldn’t mask the shock on his face.
His voice came out raw. “Catherine?”
She didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Just nodded once. “Ronan.”
He stepped forward hesitantly, his gaze sweeping over her—taking in her confident stance, the lines of her face that had softened and sharpened all at once. A woman in her element. Unshaken. Unreachable.
“You’re... different,” he murmured.
She tilted her chin. “I grew up.”
Inside Ronan's Mind
In that moment, something inside Ronan cracked—quietly, but irreparably.
She’s not mine anymore.
She never will be again.
He had rehearsed what he might say if he ever saw her. But the script dissolved the second he laid eyes on her.
Catherine, glowing with certainty. Max, smiling like the luckiest man in the world. Mira, drawing a future her father once tried to erase.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said, voice too soft for the wind.
“I’m the lead engineer,” she replied.
That stung.
He looked away briefly. “You made it,” he murmured. “You really did.”
She gave a shrug that wasn’t casual. “I had to. I had children to protect. A life to rebuild.”
He closed his eyes, shame twisting in his gut.
“I think about it every day. What I did. What I ruined.”
Catherine crossed her arms, stance calm but cutting. “You didn’t lose me, Ronan. You threw me away.”
The words slapped him harder than her hand ever could have.
He swallowed. “You’re right.”
His voice faltered, but he pressed on.
“I let her lie. I let her twist everything. And when you begged me for truth, for help… I stayed quiet.”
“And now you want absolution?” she asked.
“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t expect that. I just—”
He exhaled slowly. “I miss you. I miss them. Leo. Mira.”
Catherine let out a soft, bitter laugh. “You don’t miss us. You miss what you controlled. The version of me who loved you blindly.”
“I see her now,” he whispered. “The real you. I see everything I destroyed.”
The Truth About Michelle
Catherine raised a brow. “Still with Michelle?”
He looked up, haunted. “No. We’re done. She left... when our daughter turned three. Said she couldn’t raise a child who reminded her of what she did.”
Catherine’s eyes sharpened. “So she left you with your daughter?”
He nodded, voice shaking. “She called her a mistake.”
A bitter silence grew between them.
“She wasn’t a mistake,” he added quickly. “None of them were. Not Mira. Not Leo. Not even the baby I had with her. I failed all of them.”
The Breaking Point
Catherine’s expression softened slightly, but her tone stayed steel.
“I don’t hate you, Ronan. That would be easy. I pity you.”
Ronan blinked, pain flickering through his features.
“I found what love actually looks like,” she said, glancing at Max. “It’s calm. Steady. Not some high-stakes gamble or ego trip. Max shows up for me. For them. He doesn’t erase my scars—he holds them.”
Ronan followed her gaze. Max was now kneeling beside Mira, complimenting her drawing. Mira beamed.
“I thought I was protecting us,” Ronan said quietly. “But all I did was destroy you.”
Catherine turned fully to him.
“And when it mattered—you didn’t fight for me. Not in court. Not in life.”
“I know,” he said. “I wish I had the courage then that I have now.”
“Well,” she said with finality, “it’s too late.”
A Final Plea
“Can I… can I at least see him?” he asked. “Leo. I don’t want to be a ghost.”
Catherine hesitated. Then said carefully, “You can request visitation. Through the legal channels. I won’t stop you.”
“But?”
“You’ll have to earn it,” she said. “Not through me—but through your actions. Through time. Leo doesn’t need another man who disappears.”
Ronan nodded slowly, eyes wet. “You’re right. About everything.”
She turned to leave, but paused.
“Ronan?” she called over her shoulder.
He looked up.
“Don’t confuse guilt for love,” she said. “What we had? It died the day you didn’t choose me.”
And then she was gone—walking toward a world he no longer belonged to.
Ronan stood there long after she’d left, the wind biting through his jacket.
I loved her, he told himself.
But love without truth was just possession.
And he had nothing left to hold.
He turned and walked away—slowly, silently—one step at a time.
His redemption would be quiet.
Earned.
Unseen.
Because she didn’t need his repentance.
She had already healed.
- Writer
