Chapter Thirty
Colin
Declan hasn’t been the same since the accident. I’m fine, healthwise. I suffered a concussion and likely some bruised ribs, but nothing life-threatening.
And yet, it’s like he’s come down with some emotional flu he hasn’t been able to shake since.
I think that even though I am okay and I didn’t die, he spent at least two or three hours imagining that I had. And the trauma from those hours doesn’t just go away.
He’s been sketching more than usual. Even after we have sex in the morning, he stays in bed most of the day and just draws in his book. It breaks my heart to see him like this.
Six days after the accident, I finally feel good enough to go for a drive, so he takes me to the nearest beach, after I spend hours begging him to, of course.
We’re sitting on a large blanket under a massive blue and orange umbrella, watching couples and families frolic in the water. So I reach for him.
As he takes my hand, he offers me a sad smile.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper with my cheek resting against my knees.
His brows fold inward. “Sorry for what?”
“For bringing all of that up that day. I shouldn’t have started a fight with you while—”
“Shakespeare,” he says, cutting me off. “Stop it. Stop thinking everything is your fault. Or that you’re responsible for everyone’s emotions, because you’re not.”
“I know, but…”
“Nobuts,” he says, squeezing my hand. “You were right. I do treat you like a friend sometimes, but it’s only because I don’t know what else to do.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, scooting closer to him.
“You have your life in California, and I have mine in Scotland, and I don’t do well with relationships as it is, so how on earth could I be any good at a long-distance one? And what if it doesn’t work? What if I’m a terrible boyfriend, and it ruins us? You’re the most important person in my life, Colin Shelby. If I lose you…”
I loop a hand around his neck and drag his mouth toward mine. “You will never lose me.”
When I press a kiss to his lips, he returns it, but with little life. As I pull away, he asks sadly, “Can you give me more time? Next year. I promise. I can give you more next year.”
“Of course,” I reply before kissing him again.
We lie on the blanket for a while, cuddling together and enjoying the sunshine. Eventually, I talk him into coming into the water with me.
So we walk hand in hand to the waves, but they are colder than I anticipated. He has to drag me in until they reach my waist, and then we’re both full of laughter and smiles.
It’s a bandage. A temporary fix on a more permanent problem, but for now, it’s enough.
* * *
Back at the house, Declan gets into the shower first as I unpack the car. We both head home tomorrow, and another eventful week together comes to an end.
The months between these visits feels like just passing the time. Even when I’m chasing roles, memorizing lines, and working to further my career, it still feels like an interim in my own life. Just something to kill the time before I’m where I belong—with him.
When I walk into the bathroom, he watches me from behind the frosty glass doors of the shower. After pulling off my shirt, I stare at myself in the mirror. My bruises and scrapes have started to heal, and as soon as I get back home, I’ll be back to my gym routine with my personal trainer to prepare for the next role.
Passing the time.
“Why don’t you join me?” Declan asks from the shower.
Turning toward him with a coy smile, I reply, “I think I will.”
