I sat on the couch beside her and opened my laptop. The shop had been closed, losing money every day. I still had repairs to make before reopening, though it all seemed so tedious. Too much work to do, and I didn’t have the energy—the fire—to do it.
I opened my banking app to see what I had left in savings and saw that Ronan had made good on his word. My account was more than sixty thousand dollars richer.
A little cry fell out of me, and I shut the laptop.
“What is it?” Bibi asked, alarmed.
“He gave me his money, Bibi,” I said, the tears flowing. “All his money.”
“Oh, honey.” Bibi drew me to her and held me against her bosom. My tears dampened the lilac of her housedress. “Then he wants you to have it.”
“I can’t. It feels like…he died and left it to me like his uncle did. Because he won’t talk to me, Bibi. He’s cutting me out of his life, trying to force me to move on.”
“I know,” she said with a sigh. “I was afraid of that.”
“Doesn’t he get it?” I cried. “Doesn’t he understand how much I love him? I can nevermove onfrom him.”
Bibi shook her head, her voice heavy. “The boy was shuffled from home to home for ten years after his mama died. He has no idea that good things can stick. That people can care about him for longer than a month or two. In his world,moving onis what people do, so he’s doing what he thinks is the best thing for you.”
“Joke’s on him. Heis the best thing for me.” I sat up, wiping my eyes with the heels of my hands. “He told me he did it. His hands were bruised, and he confessed to beating up Frankie.”
“Do you believe that?”
I didn’t have to think about it; the answer rose up from the deepest part of me, a lone truth in an ocean of grief.
“I know he didn’t.” I looked to her, pleading. “But what do I do now, Bibi? Just what the hell am I supposed to do now?”
Bibi faced forward, thinking for a minute. “Ronan has been pushed around by life so hard… I suspect he’s given little pieces of his heart to those he trusted and watched them walk away with them. Now something like this happens, and I worry there’s nothing left.”
I raised my head. “Is there?”
“You have the last piece of his heart, Shiloh. For good or bad. Silence or no silence. One year or ten. It’s in your hands.” She gave my fingers a squeeze. “And it’s up to you what you do with it.”
Part V
Thirty-ThreeShiloh
Three years later
April
My eyes burned as I focused on the delicate filigree on my current piece—a silver ring with multicolored gemstones—the kind of work that required more than four hours of sleep at night. I kept hoping I’d get used to this new schedule, but three years in, and I was only more exhausted with each passing day.
Each day without him.
I’d put a small workstation in the back of Rare Earth’s showroom so I could create jewelry and man the store at the same time, not an hour wasted.
I set the ring down and stretched. It had taken an entire month to get the shop reopened after Frankie Dowd had his fun with it. One month of lost revenue and one month of rent I still had to pay. Now it was nearly what it had been before, except without Ronan’s displays. I had to purchase new ones because he wasn’t here.
The store had been perfect.We’dbeen perfect in our own imperfect way.
My cell phone rang with Violet’s number.
“Hey, you,” I said, trying not to sound as tired as I felt. “By my calculations, you’re back in town in T minus three months.Do nottell me there’s been a change of plans.”
She laughed. “No change. I’ll be there before you know it. I cannot wait to hug you again and behome.”
Violet had struggled through three years of school at Baylor while stardom had kept Miller insanely busy, recording and touring. But that lifestyle had taken its toll with his diabetes. He and Violet were moving back to Santa Cruz so he could rest and she could finish her undergrad at UCSC before embarking on God knew how many years of medical school.