But regardless of what I want, I can’t make Declan fight for me.
I won’t.
TWENTY-EIGHT
declan
*FOUR WEEKS LATER*
The brownstone feelslike a tomb ever since Molly left. Every inch of the place reminds me of her. The bedroom where she slept. The bathroom where we showered together. The couch in my room where she fell asleep looking like all of my favorite fantasies wrapped up in one hot package. The gym where she danced with the kids.
The animals are gone. Monarch’s empty bed in the corner. Lola’s scratching post collecting dust. I even miss Pepper’s profanity-laced commentary.
Christ. I miss that foul-mouthed bird.
I’m pathetic.
I throw myself into work. The bodyguard business I’ve been building, the legitimate one, is growing. Roark sends me clients, corporate types who need protection, celebrities who want discreet security. It’s a lot of work to hire and train people to be trusted guards, but it’s a good distraction from the misery that’s poisoned my life ever since Molly left.
I eat when Lucie puts food in front of me and threatens to force-feed me. I sleep when exhaustion finally beats my body to a pointwhere I can’t keep my eyes open.
I function.
But I’m not living. Just existing.
I’m in the study one night, halfway through a bottle of whiskey when Cal walks in.
He doesn’t say anything at first. Just takes the bottle, pours himself a glass, and sits down across from me.
“You’re running yourself into the ground,” he says.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” He takes a gulp of his drink. “And you’re making everyone else miserable in the process. Mam called. She’s worried. Lucie’s worried. Even Raffy and Natasha have asked why Uncle Dec is so sad.”
The kids have noticed.
Fuck. That hits hard.
“You let her go because you thought you were doing right by her,” Cal says. “Protecting her from our life. But here’s the thing, Dec. She didn’t ask for protection. She asked for you.”
“She almost died.”
“And she didn’t. Because of you. Because you did everything to save her.” He lifts an eyebrow. “You think pushing her away makes her safer? It doesn’t. It just makes you both miserable.”
“She deserves better than this life.”
“Maybe.” Cal shrugs. “But she chose this life. She chose you. And you threw that away.”
I don’t answer.
Cal leans forward. “Look, admit it. You’re in love with that girl. Real love. The kind that doesn’t go away no matter how hard you push. And instead of holding onto it, you let fear send her away.”
“Fear keeps people alive.”
“Fear keeps people alone.” He stands up, glass in hand. “I’m not going to tell you what to do. You’re a grown man. But Iwill say this. If you don’t go after her, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. And that’s a damn long time to live with a mistake.”
He walks out and I keep drinking until the ache in my heart finally numbs enough for me to sleep.
