Chapter 126: Hundred and Twenty Six

I stood in the hallway, still pressed against the wall, staring at the empty space where Jacob had been. My body ached, but my chest hurt more.

I forced myself to move, to do the only thing that mattered now.

Noah.

I walked softly down the hall toward his room. The door was half-open, letting a thin strip of golden light from the hall lamp spill across the floor. I pushed it open and found him already curled in bed, hugging his worn-out stuffed toy. His eyes were open, watching the doorway, waiting for me.

“Hey, buddy,” I whispered, pulling a smile onto my face. “I told you I’d come tuck you in.”

He sat up a little, his hair a wild mess, his small face shadowed with worry. “Mommy,” he said, his voice small. “Are you okay?”

My heart twisted. Children always knew more than you wanted them to.

“I’m fine,” I said gently, smoothing his blanket. “Why do you ask?”

“Because your eyes are red.” His little hand reached toward me, touching my cheek with soft fingers. “Like you were crying.”

I swallowed hard, blinking back the fresh sting of tears. “Sometimes grown-ups get tired and their eyes turn red,” I said carefully. “But I promise you, everything’s alright.”

He didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded, trusting me because that’s what children do.

“Get some sleep, baby.” I leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be right outside.”

“Love you, Mommy,” he murmured, already sinking back into his pillow.

“Love you more,” I whispered, pulling the covers up to his chin.

When I slipped out and shut the door behind me, the weight of it all pressed down again. The ache in my wrist pulsed with every heartbeat. I rubbed at it absentmindedly, then tugged up the sleeve of my blouse. Angry red marks stood out starkly against my skin. My stomach clenched.

In the bathroom, I switched on the harsh overhead light and caught my reflection in the mirror. My hair was mussed, mascara smudged faintly beneath my eyes. But worse was the dark shadow already blooming on my shoulder where it had hit the wall. A bruise, deep and spreading.

I pressed my fingers against it and winced.

For a long time I just stared at myself, at the proof on my skin, at the hollow look in my eyes. It had happened. He had crossed the line.

My mind spun. What was I supposed to do now? Pretend it hadn’t happened? Pretend I hadn’t seen Noah’s worried little face peeking through the door?

My thoughts kept circling back, again and again, to the same place. To him.

Declan.

Even thinking his name felt dangerous. But still, the pull was there. He would know what to say. He would tell me I didn’t deserve this. He would tell me I wasn’t imagining things, that I wasn’t weak for being scared.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my phone heavy in my palm. My thumb hovered over his contact, the familiar name burning a hole in my screen.

Don’t. Don’t make this worse. If Jacob found out, if he even suspected…

But I was so tired. So tired of carrying this alone.

I didn’t need anything. I wouldn’t even tell him. I just needed to hear his voice.

Before I could stop myself, I pressed the call button. My chest tightened with every ring.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And then his voice, rough, but still warm, still him. I guess I had woken him up from his sleep.

“Willow?”

The sound of my name nearly undid me. My throat closed, my eyes filling with tears. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Just a weak little breath.

“Willow?” he said again, sharper this time, concerned. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

My lips trembled. I wanted to answer, to pour everything out in a rush, to let someone else shoulder this weight for just a moment. But before I could form the words, I heard footsteps.

The creak of the floorboard outside the room.

The door handle turned.

And Jacob stepped inside.

My phone was still at my ear. Declan was still on the other end. And Jacob’s eyes landed on me, sharp, suspicious, narrowing as they took in the scene.

He stepped in, slowly. He had a glass in his hand, half filled with whiskey. His eyes were red rimmed, too. He had been crying. Just like me.

My phone dropped from my hand.

“Baby,” Jacob breathed. He didn’t come close to me. Not for a while, and when he took a step forward, I slightly flinched. He noticed, and I saw his expression fall flat.

“Hey,” I said, back, my voice barely a whisper.

“I -”

He placed the glass on the dresser, and moved toward me.