He'd taken a few steps into the small room, pulling the door shut behind him. If he was going to bare his soul, he didn't need an audience. Lifting his hand, he wanted so badly to touch her. To comfort her in the grief that he'd caused, god he hated himself for hurting her. It was easier to live with what he'd done while they were apart. Now with her just feet away he felt ashamed and lost. He'd hit rock bottom the day he showed up at Connors apartment. Anything he could break he did and then he just found solace curled up on his brothers couch. He'd gone into a zombie like state, almost as if he'd fallen into a well and even though it was filling with water, he didn't care if he drowned. By the 8th day, Connor had made serious attempts to snap Ronan out of his funk. "You gotta shower mate. You're stinking my place up more than usual." All he could manage was a shake of his head, before his blue eyes fell closed. Day 16 is when his older brother had finally gotten sick of the crap. He'd dumped an ice cold of bucket water over his brown locks, startling him from a dream about her. And as her face vanished from his mind he jumped up from the couch swinging.
That was the moment he made the choice to get help. Ronan was exhausted and broken, with no clue how to start piecing himself back together. With his diagnosis came a newfound understanding. There was a way to fix himself and with that maybe he could fix the relationship between him and Juliet. Though he had never intended for it to take as long as it had. Standing behind her he willed himself to speak, to tell her just how sorry he was. Say something damnit. He kept repeating it and repeating it in his head but she spoke first. "What do you want?" Her voice broke him further, a sound that he had no clue he'd missed so bloody much until that exact moment. You... He ran his fingers through his over grown hair, tugging slightly. Why couldn't he just say what he wanted to say? His brain was speaking but it was as if someone had sewn his lips shut so he couldn't say a word.
As she stood and faced him, he could read the pain and anguish on her perfect face. The way her make up had drawn streaks down her cheeks, giving away her tears. Her anger is what pulled him out of the darkness. It reminded him of the day he left. When she'd slammed her hands down on the counter to get a reaction from him. One that he couldn't elicit because he was so lost inside of himself. This time he wouldn't be a coward, he refused to be that man ever again. "Say something!" The volume in her voice caused him to jump slightly, and as she moved towards him, he was certain she was going to slap him. He welcomed it. His eyes closed waiting for the sting but instead he was greeted by a different sensation. Her face, buried in his chest. Out of instinct his hand went to the back of her head, stroking her hair. His nose nuzzled her ear as he tried to soothe her. "Shh...its okay. My sweet Juliet, please don't cry" His heart was breaking all over again.
"You've broken me." Her words cut straight through him and he felt his own flood gate begin to crack. He knew he'd f***ed up. He knew she'd likely never forgive him for walking out. But hearing her say he'd broken her, it did something to him. Shaking his head frantically , he fell to his knees, his arms wrapping around her waist. He pressed his forehead to her abdomen as his own tears began to shake his core. "I'm sorry, Jules." His voice was soft and cracked between his own sobs. "I am so bloody sorry I did this to us...to you" All of his walls had finally crumpled to the ground and here he was, at his most vulnerable. He knew his apology was worth nothing and the likelihood of her rejecting it was high. Ronan didn't care, because at least in this moment he was holding her.
