Chapter 32: Thirty Two

Something inside me had cracked.

It started with my chest tightening, my breath catching in a weird, unfamiliar way. And then my shoulders shook. One tear slipped down, and then another. I sniffed and tried to steady myself, but the sound that came out of me was too sharp, too cracked.

Declan looked panicked .

“Willow?” His voice snapped with urgency.

I couldn’t speak. My face twisted up, and my knees buckled slightly as I was seated on his desk. I grabbed the edges to study myself.. The sobs started before I could stop them, loud, aching, unrelenting.

“God,” I gasped, pressing the back of my hand to my mouth, “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Declan cut in immediately. “Don’t be sorry.”

He reached out toward me, hands hovering awkwardly, like he didn’t know whether he was allowed to touch me. Or what to do. His eyes were wide, helpless.

“Fuck, I, I’m so sorry. I thought you wanted this - “

“I - “ I started, but the words wouldn’t come. Just a sob. I squeezed my eyes shut, clutching my sides like I could hold myself together.

He took a step towards me. Then his arms wrapped around me, pulling me into his chest. I pushed my face into him, sniffling, my tears wetting the soft fabric of his shirt. He waited for the crying to wind down before he stepped back.

Declan lowered himself slightly, ducking his head to try and meet my eyes. “Willow, please. Tell me. Did I do something wrong?”

I forced the words out. “I feel… horrible. About everything.”

He stared at me, brows drawn together, completely still.

“I hate this,” I cried. “I hate the way we are now. How cold it is. How awkward. And how I pretend it doesn’t get to me when it does. Seeing you in class and hooking up and seeing you around other women and knowing I can’t have you. I hate this.”

Tears blurred everything, but I kept going. “I didn’t want to be some… blip. Some mistake. I didn’t want to mean nothing to you.”

His face changed. “You don’t.”

I shook my head. “You keep pushing me away. And you get jealous and want to own me and you have sex with me and I know it’s complicated but I can’t fucking control my feels. And you make me feel like one. And now I feel like one. And the worst part?” I laughed bitterly through the tears. “I still care. I shouldn’t, but I do. Even after everything.”

Declan exhaled sharply and stepped forward, placing his hands gently on my arms.

“I never wanted to make you feel that way,” he said, voice rough and low. “I was wrong. About all of it.”

I looked at him, tears clinging to my lashes. “Then why didn’t you stop? Why do you keep hurting me?”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he hated himself.

“Because I was scared,” he admitted. “Because I convinced myself that keeping my distance was better for both of us. That if I buried it, it would disappear.”

He touched his chest lightly, almost like a reflex. “But it didn’t. It didn’t even fade. But I can’t keep my distance. I am weak for you, Willow.””

We stood like that ,  breaths tangled, faces flushed, hearts pounding with things too long unsaid. I could still feel his cum inside me. I could feel it had dripped down my thighs. Sticky.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, softer this time. “For not being brave enough. For being confusing.”

The words pierced something in me. I closed my eyes.

“I don’t want to be this person anymore,” I whispered. “You have consumed me. I don’t like feeling like this.”

Declan moved closer, his hands now holding mine. “Then don’t be.”

I looked up at him.

“Let me make it right,” he said, sighing. “How you deserve. Properly. Let me take you out. On a real date.”

My heart thudded hard in my chest.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” I said.

“I get that,” he replied. “I wouldn’t trust me either. But let me show you who I am outside of everything that made us messy. Let me show you what it’s like when I’m not running.”

He waited. Not pressuring. Just hoping.

I stared at him for a long moment, my breath slowly beginning to steady.

He held my hand, slowly intertwining my fingers. “I don’t want to run from you anymore.”

I looked at our intertwined hands. “But its…wrong.”

“Fuck that. We’ll keep it secret. Private. Just us.” He said, “I’ll take care of it. Take care of you.”

He was watching me like I might disappear.

And maybe, a part of me still wanted to.

But I didn’t pull away.

I studied his face, not just the familiar edges of his jaw or the deep-set eyes that had once looked at me like I was something forbidden. I looked for sincerity. For honesty. For the man who had just said he was wrong.

There was no performance in his eyes now. Just someone who’d made mistakes and didn’t want to keep making them. And pain.

“I’ll go,” I said finally, my voice soft. “On the date.”

His eyes flicked up to meet mine, and something in them lit. Something akin to grief. Or gratitude. He didn’t smile immediately. He just exhaled, like he’d been holding his breath for a very long time.

“Yeah?” he said, gently.

I nodded, wiping under my eyes with the edge of my sleeve. “But it has to be real. No more hot and cold. If we’re doing this, it has to be honest.”

“Completely,” he said, not missing a beat.

“And slow.”

His gaze softened. “Of course.”

I finally let go of his hands and shifted back a little, giving myself space. My body still felt shaky from everything that had just come out of me, but there was also a strange calm inside me now.

“When?” I asked.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Tonight?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m kidding,” he said quickly, holding his hands up. “Sort of. I mean, I’d love to, but I’ll take whatever you’ll give.”

I let out a breath of something close to a laugh. “Tomorrow. Dinner.”

He nodded. “Tomorrow.”

For a moment, we just stood there. Not touching. Not tangled.

“I should go,” I said, my voice steadier now.

“Okay.”

I reached for the door. Then paused.

“Declan?”

He looked up.

“This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven everything.”

“I know,” he said. “But it means I get to try.”