Page 84 of Faithless Vows

Grandda’s head lifts. “Pardon me?”

“I don’t think I’ve done anything so awful that it warrants my own grandparents treating me the way you two have for the past month,” I say. My voice shakes, but I don’t stop. “What do you want from me? What do I need to do before you’ll start talking to me again?”

Grandmam picks up her knitting needles and starts clicking away at the blanket she’s been working on. Grandda turns his head to look out the window. Neither of them says anything, and something inside me snaps. My voice rises, and I hear it. I hate that I hear it. This isn’t me. I don’t do this. But I can’t seem to stop now. “And then tonight, at the table, I realized what you were doing.” I look from Grandda to Grandmam. “Mentioning that girl’s name to Finn. Mary. It wasn’t the first time, was it? One of Eamon’s men. One of their daughters. Another girl coming by the house. And Catríona told me herself that Mr. Walsh’s men bring their daughters around hoping to make a match with Finn. And the only conclusion I’m left with is that you meant to hurt me. You wanted me to hear those names. You wanted me to know Finn had other options, so what? I’d get jealous? I’d panic? I’d stop asking for time and give you the answer you wanted?”

When I finally run out of words, I stand there panting like I’ve run for miles, waiting for one of them to say something. But Grandmam only turns to Grandda, and the look that passes between them makes my heart sink.

Grandda lets out a sigh. “Alannah—”

“That’s another thing,” I say, quieter now. “When you do speak to me, I’m Alannah. Not pet. Not Alannah girl. Just Alannah.”

“Enough.” Grandda’s voice booms through the room, and I press my lips together before anything else can come out.

He shifts in his chair and looks at me straight on. “I don’t know what you want us to say. Things are done a certain way here. You know that. This was true before you ever came home, and it’ll be true long after the rest of us are gone.”

He goes on. “When you came back to us, we were glad to have you. We took you in. We stood by you. We tried to help you find your feet again after everything that happened.” His jaw tightens. “And now it seems every choice we make is taken as proof that we’ve turned against you.”

I start to speak, but he lifts a hand, and the words die on my tongue.

“That match with Finn was not some cruelty, Alannah. You were fond of the lad, and he was a good choice. Your grandmother and I chose well for you. We expected you to understand that.” He gestures toward Grandmam, who keeps her eyes on her knitting, her knuckles white with how hard she’s holding the needles. “And your grandmother did what she thought was best with those letters. She was only trying to protect you, and ever since then, you’ve looked at her like she’s a stranger to you.”

Grandda’s voice drops. “Your da left this place and spat on all of it. On what was expected. On what was offered. On us.” His eyes narrow. “So if there are moments when your grandmother and I look at you and fear that same turn in you, then maybe that’s not fair. But it is true.”

“So that’s it?” I ask, my voice smaller than I want it to be. “If I don’t do what you want, then I’ve turned on you too? All I asked for was a little time.”

Grandmam sets her knitting in her lap. When she looks at me, there’s no warmth in her eyes. “And while you take that time, everyone else is meant to stand still?” Her voice softens, but it doesn’t make the words hurt any less. “We do love you, Alannah. But love doesn’t stop what’s expected in this family. It doesn’t stop people from being hurt. And it doesn’t stop choices from having to be made.”

The silence after Grandmam finishes speaking is deafening. Then she picks up her knitting again, and Grandda turns back toward the window, both of them going back to pretending I’m not there.

I blow out a breath. “All right,” I say quietly. Then I swallow and say it again, louder this time. “All right.”

Neither of them stops me when I turn and leave the room. I go upstairs slowly, one step at a time, and once I’m inside my room, I close the door behind me. For a moment, I just stand there, everything that just happened turning over in my mind. Then I move around to the side of the bed and sit on the floor with my back against it, pulling my knees up to my chest.

I don’t know what I expected when I asked them, but it wasn’t that. When everything happened in Boston, all I wanted was to be here, with them. I remembered the way it had felt when I was young, how close we all were, how loved I’d felt, and I think I held on to that harder than I even knew. But sitting here on the floor now, with my grandparents’ words fresh in my mind, I start to wonder if I remembered this place the way I wanted to remember it, and not the way it really was. Maybe it had always been like this. Maybe I was just too young to see it then.

A small, sad laugh slips out, even though there’s nothing funny about any of it. How did this become my life?

***

By morning, I haven’t slept at all. I’ve spent the night on the floor beside my bed with Ronin’s letters spread out around me, reading each one over and over, looking for something I might have missed. Some expectation. Some demand. Anything that proved he was asking something of me after all. Because everyone wants something from me, and I was sure he must have hidden it somewhere between the lines.

But there’s nothing. Just like I thought.

Not once does he ask me to come back. Not once does he ask me to forgive him. Not once does he even ask me to write back.

After a while, I gather the letters into a pile and pick up my half of Ronin’s wedding band. It feels heavy in my palm as I hold it up to the lamplight. The gold is tarnished, and my eyes follow the woven lines of the Celtic knot that used to be whole.

His words from when he first sent it to me come back.The idea is that it’s only whole when they’re together.

I don’t think I’ve felt whole for a long time.

My gaze moves from the ring to Finn’s bracelet on my wrist. The silver shines in the light, everything Ronin’s ring isn’t. Whole. Bright. New. But it’s the engraving that holds my attention.Mo Shaileach.And that’s when I know I don’t want to be Finn’s willow. Not when he can look me in the eye and tell me he doesn’t mind waiting, all while letting our friends and family make me feel unwanted until I give him what he wants.

I look out the window and see the sky starting to lighten. If I’m going to get out of here before anyone else wakes up, I need to hurry.

I get to my feet and go to the wardrobe, pulling out the same bag I arrived in Ireland with all those months ago. I set it on the bed and start packing only what I brought with me. Then I dress as quickly as I can, trading my nightdress for the first set of clothes my hands touch. I pin my hair back with shaking hands and pull on my stockings and shoes, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

Before I close the bag, I lay Ronin’s letters on top, then add my purse with the rest of the money I withdrew in Boston. Last, I set the box holding the ring inside.