Page 48 of Faithless Vows

Da stands there, jaw set. He doesn’t say a word, just steps back and opens the door wider. I step inside, and he closes it behind me. I toe off my boots and hang my coat on the hook by the door like I always have. When I turn around, he’s already halfway down the hall. “C’mon,” he mutters without looking back.

I follow him into the front sitting room, where I’d seen the curtains move. He goes straight to the sofa and sits beside Mam. I hesitate, unsure whether to go to her or give her space. It’s been a while.

She solves it for me, pushing herself up from the cushions and beckoning me closer. As I cross the room, I see how tired she looks, the lines at the corners of her eyes deeper than I remember. She opens her arms, and I go into them without thinking. She hugs me hard enough that I feel the tremble run through her. “I missed you,” she whispers.

I lean down and kiss her cheek. “Me too, Mam,” I say quietly.

A throat clears behind me. Da’s. “Sit, Ronin.”

I do as I’m told and take the only chair left, facing the O’Connells on the love seat and Da and Mam on the sofa. I make myself look at Seamus and Siobhán and regret it the second my eyes land on them. Siobhán has always been small, like Alannah, but now she looks thinner, her face pale and drawn, as though the last six months have worn her down.

This is my fault. All of it. What the fuck was I thinking, doing what I did? I already know the answer. Pride. Nothing but my own fucking pride.

I clear my throat and nod toward them. “Mr. and Mrs. O’Connell.” Once, I’d have called them Seamus and Siobhán without a second thought. Now the names feel wrong in my mouth, like they belong to someone I don’t get to be anymore.

Siobhán barely speaks, her voice thin. “Ronin.” She dips her head in a small nod.

I sit back, hands braced on my knees, not sure where to start. Seamus spares me the effort. “Ronin, thank you for coming.” He leans forward and picks up an envelope from the coffee table. I hadn’t even noticed it there. “This came by courier from home yesterday,” he says quietly, his fingers tight along the edges as he holds it out to me.

I hesitate before taking it, then slide my thumb under the flap. The handwriting inside is heavy, the letters slanted and pressed deep into the page.

Seamus,

The girl is grand. She’s where she belongs, and that’s the way it will stay. She is healing and putting the worst of it behind her.

She has taken up again with the Walsh lad. You know the one I mean. He’s been nothing but respectful. Never put a foot wrong with her, not now and not when they were children. His father came to me, same as he did before you took the family to Boston, and asked if there might be a chance for a match. This time, I did not tell him no.

I have begun the process of seeking a dissolution of the marriage between Alannah and Cormac’s boy. The petition will go through on the grounds of non-consummation, and on the treatment she received at the wedding reception before God and half of Boston. You know as well as I do that is more than enough.

Papers will come to you from the chancery when the time is right. It’s in your interest to see they reach Ronin Byrne without delay, and in his interest to sign them when he’s told. I will not have my granddaughter’s name dragged back and forth across an ocean while he makes a show of himself.

I warned you years ago she was an Irish girl and Ireland is where she belonged. And now you’ve brought her back to us. She is safe, and she will be loved and well cared for here. Let that be the end of it.

Mind yourself,

Malachy

I read it twice. The words don’t change. “Can he actually do that?”

“If the marriage was never consummated,” Seamus says without expression. “And with what happened at the reception, he doesn’t need to reach far for the rest.”

“It’s the Church,” I say. “They don’t just—”

“They do when it’s Malachy asking.” My da’s voice is quiet but final. “He’s been filling their collection plates for over thirty years. Half the men he’s kept out of prison are wearing vestments now. If he wants it done, it’ll be done.”

I look back at the letter. At the line I keep coming back to. The Walsh lad. “Who is he talking about?” I ask. “Walsh.”

Seamus glances at Siobhán. Neither of them says anything for a second. “Finn Walsh,” Seamus answers. “He and Alannah grew up together. Him and his twin sister. His father is one of my da’s most trusted men. Before Cormac and I set things in motion to move to Boston, his father had gone to my da to request a match between Finn and Alannah. We knew if we were going ahead with plans for you and her, we had to leave when we did. Pissed my old man off.”

I stare at him. “And now?”

“And now there’s no one standing in his way.”

The room is quiet. It hits me like a fist to the chest.Someone else.Someone she grew up with, who knew her before Boston, before me, before any of this. Someone her grandfather already approved of once. Someone who didn’t ruin it.

“I’m not signing anything,” I say.

My da looks at me. Not surprised. Just tired. “Ronin—”