I pick at a loose thread on the comforter. "I wanted to give Declan space. Room to grow without me hanging around like some reminder of what didn't work out."
"That's bullshit."
My head snaps up. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." He pushes off the doorframe and comes to sit beside me. Not too close, but close enough, his muscular thigh rubs against mine. "You left because you were scared. And that's okay. But don't pretend it was some noble sacrifice for Declan's benefit."
I want to argue, but the words stick in my throat because he's right. At least partially.
"Maybe," I admit quietly. "But I also meant what I said. He deserves to figure out what he wants without me in the picture. I’m like the fog over the glass that looks to his future. I had to step aside so he could see clearly. I don’t want to be in the way.”
"And what about what you want?"
"What I want doesn't matter."
"Like hell it doesn't." Pierce's voice is firm but not unkind. "Sutton, you matter. Your wants matter. You can't just sacrifice yourself on the altar of what you think is best for everyone else."
I swallow hard against the emotion rising in my throat. This is why Pierce feels like a brother to me. He sees through my bullshit and calls me on it, but he does it with love.
"Pierce, I know what my future is. I have a job. I am clear-eyed, and that’s why I had to get out of his way. I want him to have the same clarity as I do. I figured my stuff out years ago. He never got the chance to make that choice for himself. His dad has been pulling his strings, and then I was in the way.”
He nods like he expected that answer. "For what it's worth, leaving didn't make things easier on Declan."
My stomach twists. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, he's not taking the breakup well. None of us wanted to tell you because it's not our place, but since you're back..." He trails off, studying my face. "He's been a mess, Sutton. He hides it well, especially around you, but the rest of us see it."
"He seems fine to me. Cold, but fine."
"That's the point. He's trying to protect himself. Can you blame him?"
I can't. Of course I can't. I did the same thing when I left.
"Has there been any news?" I ask, changing the subject before I start crying again. "About the Seattle team?"
Pierce's expression shifts. Becomes guarded. "You should talk to Declan about that."
My heart sinks. "He won't talk to me. You know that. Come on, Pierce. Just tell me. Let me feel like this sacrifice was worth it."
He doesn’t say anything for several seconds. Finally, he sighs.
"Seattle went very, very well."
I try not to react, but my body has other plans. I physically jerk. I knew this was coming. I knew Declan had the talent, the drive, and everything needed to make it. But hearing it confirmed makes it real in a way I wasn't prepared for.
"How well?" My voice sounds hollow.
"Well enough that I heard an offer is on the table."
An offer. A real offer. The NHL is within reach. I'm not there to celebrate with him. I pushed him away right before the biggest moment of his life, but if I hadn’t pushed him away, he might not have had the opportunity.
"When?" I manage.
"I don't know all the details. As I said, you should talk to him."
"What kind of offer?"
"Sutton—"
