Don’t wallow.
I hear someone outside my door. I stare at it. It’s locked. I wait for a knock. But nothing. And then I see a piece of paper on the floor.
I pick it up and turn on my bedside lamp.
I recognize Declan’s writing immediately.
I know this sounds like a convenient story. I know it looks bad. But I swear to you, Sutton, nothing happened. I didn't kiss her. I didn't invite her to my room. I didn't cheat on you.
I was trying to be a decent human being. And Bree used that against me.
Since that night, I've learned a lot about what Bree has been doing. The lies she's been telling. The way she's been manipulating situations to make it look like we were close. I talked to Holden. To the guys. To people who saw her posting about us in group chats.
She set me up for this exact situation.
I should have seen it. I should have been more aware. I should have shut down every interaction instead of just being polite.
That's on me. My blindness. My stupidity. My failure to recognize what she was doing.
But I need you to know—I never wanted her. I never encouraged her. I never gave her reason to think I was interested.
I wanted you. Only you.
I still want you.
I understand if you can't forgive me for being blind to her games. I understand if the trust is beyond repair. I understand if you need to walk away.
But please don't think I wanted this.
Please don't think you weren't enough.
You're everything, Sutton. You always have been.
I love you.
I read it three times.
Then I fold it carefully and set it on my nightstand.
I don't know if I believe him.
I don't know if it matters.
But for the first time in three days, I feel something other than numb.
I feel confused.
And maybe that's a start.
Chapter Five
DECLAN
The rink is empty. Silent except for the sound of my blades cutting across the ice.
It's after seven. Everyone else left an hour ago. Even the janitor gave me a weird look on his way out, but he didn't say anything. Just locked up and left me here with my key card and my thoughts.
I don't want to go home. Don't want to lie in my bed staring at the ceiling, wondering if Sutton read my letter. Wondering if it made any difference.
