Guilty Love

20| Time

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Time

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Chapter 20: Time (Ronan's POV)

I held her down, not letting her get up until she told me something about what was going on. I worried about her and her dad. I'm scared that in the four years I was gone, instead of talking to somebody, she's learned to bottle everything up until she explodes. I used to be the one person she would talk to about anything and everything and then I disappeared, so of course, she had nobody to talk to. But I never thought she'd learn to bottle it all up like this. 

"Are we really just going to lay here on the floor? People will see." 

"Who cares?" I shrugged. 

"I'll tell you later, Ronan." 

"Later as in never?" 

"Later, as in once we've closed the store and we're the only people here." 

I nodded, slowly letting her go. "Fine." She eased herself off of me and I hated it almost immediately. I forgot what it felt like to have her so close to me, pressed upright against me to the point where I could smell her perfume and shampoo, to the point where every little thing about her was right there in front of me, intoxicating me. I sat up and we got back to work, pretending that didn't just happen. 

We both were a little worn by the end of the day after selecting, stacking, organizing, and packing books. They were sent out when the mailman came to collect them and by then it was time for her to close the store anyway. 

I sat at the table while she took a quick round, making sure everything was clean and in place, and then she walked to the main door, flipping the sign from 'open' to 'closed' before walking over to me, standing there. "Aren't we leaving?" 

"I didn't forget, so don't try that," I shook my head. 

She sighed softly and sat across from me, keeping her hands on the table, picking at her cuticles nervously. "I still spend my Sundays with Dad," she began, nodding slowly to herself. "But most of those Sundays end up being hospital visits so we can get him checked out. He has to be monitored all the time. His medication doses, his heart condition, all of it. We went this past Sunday too and we ran into Mrs. Nora. Of course, she was curious and Dad being Dad, didn't care and just told her everything. While Dad went to pay, I begged her not to tell anybody about what she knew. 

"I already faced that time when he was diagnosed, I suddenly became London, the girl with the sick Dad and dead Mom. I didn't want people talking about me or Dad in that way again. So, I'm still praying that you're the only one she told." She looked up at me. 

"And what did the doctors say about your dad?" 

"It's complicated," she heaved a breath, running a hand through her hair. "His heart is getting worse, the medication is slowly dying down and getting less and less effective. They think they could increase his dosage but that won't be good for the rest of his body. He'll be too exhausted to go anywhere, do anything, he'll need someone there at all times, just in case. The hospital is offering a home nurse but Dad keeps saying no," she paused, staring at the table.