Chapter 146: Hundred and Forty Six

Morning at the lake house felt like waking inside a dream I didn’t dare think of too hard in case it woke me up.

The fire had burned down to embers, the air carrying that faint smokiness that clings to skin after a night by the hearth. Declan was still asleep when I slipped out of his arms, one hand splayed across the empty rug as if he’d been holding on to me even in his dreams.

When I went upstairs, Noah was awake and buzzing with energy, his dinosaur book spread across the bed. “Mommy, did you know some dinosaurs had feathers?” he asked as soon as I came in, like I’d been awake to hear his thoughts all along.

“Good morning to you too,” I teased, smoothing his messy hair.

By the time we were in the kitchen, Declan had joined us, sleeves rolled up, trying and failing to flip pancakes while Noah heckled him like unruly audience at a comedy show.

“You burned it again!”

“It’s crispy,” Declan shot back.

“Mommy says black is burned.”

I leaned against the counter, smiling despite myself. “The kid’s got a point.”

It was chaos. Sweet, ridiculous chaos. Flour streaked across Declan’s arm, Noah wielding a spoon in the most irresponsible manner, me laughing more than I had in weeks. We would have so many more of these days. One day, we would live together, and we would have this everyday.

Suddenly, the sound of tires crunching on gravel cut through the moment.

Declan froze mid-laugh. The spatula slipped from his hand, clattering onto the stove.

“Who is it?” I asked.

He moved toward the window with a tension in his shoulders. He peered out the window. “My mother.”

A strange sense of reminiscence hit me. How was this happening yet again?

Was this place cursed or something?

Emma Hale stepped out of a sleek black car moments later, crisp and composed as ever, her blouse pressed, her hair perfectly pinned. She looked wildly out of place against the rustic wood of the lake house.

“Declan,” I whispered, my chest tightening. “What do we do?”

He swallowed hard, then straightened, his voice firm. “I’ll handle it.”

Noah peeked past us, wide-eyed. “Who’s that?”

“Just… a friend of Declan’s,” I said quickly, my heart pounding.

Before I could say more, there was a knock at the door. Declan opened it, his tone smooth but taut.

“Mother. This is a surprise.”

Emma arched a brow. “You weren’t answering your phone. I was beginning to wonder if you’d fallen off the map. Then the guards told me you are here.” Her eyes swept past him, taking in the plates on the table, the mess of flour on the counter, the third chair tucked close. Then her gaze snagged on me.

“Well,” she said, her voice cool. “Willow. What an unexpected reunion.”

My throat went dry. “Mrs. Hale.”

Her smile was thin, polite in the way that barely masked sharpness. “It’s been a very long time, hasn’t it?”

Before I could answer, Noah bounded into view, still clutching his spoon like a sword. “Hi! I’m Noah!”

Emma’s expression flickered, composure cracking for just a second before she schooled it again. “And you are…?”

Noah grinned proudly. “Declan’s friend!” He looked up at Declan, beaming. “Can we show her the raft later?”

Declan’s jaw tightened. His hand twitched at his side.

“Noah,” he said gently, crouching so they were eye level. His voice was steady but serious. “Why don’t you head upstairs for a bit, buddy? Take your book and read on the bed. I’ll come get you in a little while.”

Noah blinked, surprised. “But..” He began to argue.

“Please,” Declan added, softer. “Just for a little while.”

Noah’s face scrunched in mild protest, but then he nodded, giving Emma one last curious look before trudging upstairs, spoon still in hand. The sound of his feet on the staircase echoed in the silence between the three of us.

When it was quiet again, Emma’s eyes sharpened as they flicked between us. “Declan. Explain.”

Declan didn’t speak right away. He looked at me first, before turning back to her. “He’s Willow’s son.”

Emma snorted, looking at me. “You leave my son out of nowhere. And now you bring a kid with you to him. Is it money you want, Willow? You think a kid will make him take you back? You need a new father for your child.” Her lips pursed, “God knows women like you can’t keep a man.”

My breath caught in my throat. Before I could answer, I heard Declan’s voice. “He’s mine.”

Emma inhaled sharply, her gaze darting between me and the staircase, stumbling back a little. “Yours?”

“Yes.” Declan’s voice was firm, unyielding. “My son.”

The words seemed to echo through the kitchen, heavier than the silence that followed.

Emma’s face went pale before it flushed pink with restrained anger. She turned her gaze on me, and I flinched at the venom in it.

“You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?” she said coldly. “Running away all those years ago, hiding this from him. From us.”

“Mrs. Hale…” I began, my voice shaking.

“Don’t,” she snapped, the veneer of politeness gone. “You robbed him of his family. You robbed us of knowing him. Do you realize what you’ve done?”

The shame that had been buried in me for years surged hot and raw, but Declan stepped forward, placing himself slightly in front of me.

“Enough,” he said, his tone low but hard. “This was not her fault alone. If you want someone to blame, you blame me too. But don’t you fucking speak to her like that.”

Emma’s eyes flashed. “Do you think this is simple, Declan? That you can just announce this boy into existence and expect everything to fall neatly into place? What will people say? What will this do to your career, your reputation?”

“I don’t give a damn about my reputation,” Declan shot back. “He’s my son. That’s what matters.”

Emma turned to me again, her words sharp as knives. “And you, did you ever plan to tell him? Or were you content to keep pretending? To keep stringing my son along?”

Tears burned my eyes. “I was trying to protect Noah,” I whispered. “From the world. From all of this.”

Emma’s laugh was short, humorless. “Protect him? Or protect yourself?”

. I wanted to shout, to defend myself, but my voice broke before I could.

Declan’s hand found mine, squeezing tight. He looked at his mother, eyes blazing. “You can be angry. You can hate me. But you don’t get to tear her apart. I will not hear a word against Willow from your mouth, mother.”

Emma’s lips pressed into a thin line. She looked at me again, disdain clear in the set of her jaw, then back at Declan.

“I don’t recognize you,” she said finally, her voice trembling with controlled fury. “Throwing away everything you’ve worked for. For her. Again”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Declan said evenly. “I’m building something. For him. For us.”

Emma’s eyes flicked once more toward the stairs, toward where Noah was probably sprawled with his book, oblivious.

When she looked back at us, her voice was colder than ice. “This isn’t finished.”

And with that, she turned on her heel, the sharp click of her heels on the wood floor echoing until the door shut behind her.

I sagged against the counter, my whole body trembling. Declan caught me before I slid to the floor, his arms wrapping tight around me.

“It’s okay,” he murmured into my hair. “She can’t take him from us. She can’t take you from me.”

But as I buried my face in his chest, I couldn’t stop the fear clawing at me. Because the truth was out now, and nothing would ever be simple again.