“I’m serious. Here, I’ll go first.” He walks over, chooses a glass, and smashes it into the garbage can, making it shatter. “Feels damn good when you’re frustrated.”

I join him, choose a glass, and let it fall into the can.

“That was pathetic. You have to smash it like you mean it. Like you’re aiming for Joey’s face.”

He presses a new glass into my hand, and I rear back, then throw it down with all my might.

“You son of a bitch, Joey.”

The glass shatters, and I have to admit, it did feel really good.

“See?” he says with a grin. “The whole box is for you. Go for it. Destroy it. Be mad.”

I reach for another, and then another. I cuss out Joey and Kane and Cameron and break glass, and it’s possibly the best therapy I’ve had in a long time.

When I’m done, my chest heaves, my muscles sing, and Cam’s grinning at me like a loon.

“Better?” he asks.

“A little, yeah. That was better than flowers and chocolate.”

“I have chocolate on the porch,” he says and cautiously reaches for my hand. “I was covering all my bases.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this Bill guy?”

He sighs and brushes a lock of my hair off my cheek. “Over the past couple of years, you haven’t really wanted to have conversations with me. Mostly, you snapped at me.”

I close my eyes and rest my forehead on his chest. “Yeah, well, you could have told me.”

“Sure, I can see it now. Hey, Mags. Go to hell, Cam. Sure, but by the way, we hired a PI to look into your asshole of a late husband. Okay, great, thanks.”

I laugh and then playfully push him away. “Whatever, smartass. Where’s my chocolate?”

“I’m hoping you’ll share.”

“Not a chance.”

I don’t know why the pub was so busy on a Sunday night, but we were hopping all day. I haven’t bustled about so much since tourist season.

My feet aren’t used to it. I need a hot shower and some tea before I fall face-first into bed for a good, solid eight hours.

I wave at Keegan, who always comes outside with us girls when we leave so he can watch us get into our cars safely. It’s not a bad neighborhood—there are no bad areas on the island—but you never know what might happen outside of a bar after closing time. Keegan waits until I start my car because it’s been iffy lately, but on the third try, it turns over. My brother waves back, and I pull out of the small parking lot behind O’Callaghan’s Pub.