Ronan’s voice was gentle, almost soothing—a stark contrast to the cold indifference he always reserved for me. "Don’t worry, I know my priorities. We can visit the ocean anytime, but once the snow melts in the mountains, it'll be a long time before we can see it again."
A bitter scoff escaped my lips, sharp and cutting. How blind could he be? How utterly oblivious to the damage he had done? He didn’t know. He couldn’t possibly know that there would be no next time, no next trip, no next month for Kieran.
I clenched my jaw and strode toward the door, determined to leave. But before I could, Ronan moved, seizing my wrist in frustration. "It’s the middle of the night, Anastasia. Do you really think this is necessary? You’re crying over missing one trip to the ocean? Kieran can wait."
His words cut deeper than any blade. Even now, even after everything, he didn’t understand. He didn’t care enough to understand. His eyes flickered toward my face, finally registering the redness and swelling of my tear-streaked cheeks. For the first time, a hint of pity entered his gaze. "I’ll clear my schedule next month. I’ll take Kieran then, alright?"