Chapter 69: Sixty Nine

I stumbled into my apartment and shut the door behind me, fumbling with the lock like I had never seen one before. My fingers were trembling so much, I almost dropped my keys. The moment the lock clicked into place, I leaned against the door, forehead pressed to the wood, breath shallow.

The darkness felt heavy, suffocating. I didn’t turn on the lights. I didn’t want to see myself, or anything else. I didn’t even want to see Cassie.

My feet carried me to the kitchen like muscle memory. On the counter sat the half-empty bottle of wine from last week, its cork shoved in loosely. I yanked it out, not bothering with a glass, and tipped it back.

The first sip burned my throat, it was enough to make my eyes water. The wine was warm and tasted stale.

The second sip was easier. The third dulled the jagged edges of my thoughts, if only slightly.

I had already had two drinks. I finished the bottle of wine in five sips, then grabbed a vodka bottle, drinking straight from it, too.

I sank onto the couch, curling my knees up to my chest, the bottle clutched against my chest. Every time I closed my eyes, Mara’s voice came back.

Don’t destroy his life.

The video played on a loop in my mind; the grainy, intimate image of Declan and me in his office. The angle was wrong, the lighting dim, but there was no mistaking what we were doing, how we looked at each other, the sound of his name from my lips.

My face was in it. His wasn’t, not fully, but you could still tell it was him.

My stomach lurched. Mara had me cornered, and she knew it.

And now, I did too.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears, but they came anyway. Hot and heavy, leaving my face raw.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Dec.

For a second, I just stared at the glowing screen, my breath stuck in my throat. Answering felt dangerous. Not answering felt worse.

I swiped to pick up.

“Hi, my love,” his voice filled my ear, warm and familiar, that soft rumble that always steadied me. “How was your day?”

My lips trembled as I forced out, “Fine. I, um… hung out with Jacob.”

A pause. I could practically hear his jaw tighten. “Oh? You sound… off. Are you okay?”

“I…” My voice broke, the dam cracking, and before I could stop myself, a sob tore its way out of me.

“Willow?” Declan’s voice sharpened with alarm. “Dove, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen? Did he do something?”

I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying to muffle the sound, but it only made it worse.

“Talk to me,” he urged, his tone a mix of worry and desperation.

I dragged in a shaky breath. “No, no, I’m fine,” I lied, my words tangled in tears. “I’m just… I’m just stressed. Exams, the RA stuff, everything. It’s too much.”

“Hey, hey,” his voice gentled again, low and coaxing. “You’re okay. You’re the smartest girl, baby. You got this because you can do it. Breathe for me, Willow. In, out. Slow.”

I tried to follow his instructions, my chest rising and falling unevenly.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “I wish I was there with you right now. I hate not being able to hold you.”

A bitter laugh slipped out of me, shaky and cracked. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Promise me you’ll try to sleep tonight?”

“I’ll try,” I whispered, though I knew I wouldn’t.

We stayed on the phone longer than I expected, him talking softly about anything and everything; about how he had a faculty meeting tomorrow, how he’d been thinking about taking me out to dinner once exams were over.

He didn’t press. He didn’t ask again what was really wrong.

Maybe he sensed I wasn’t ready to tell him.

Or maybe he didn’t want to hear it.

When we finally hung up, the apartment was quiet again. Too quiet.

I curled into the couch cushions, staring blankly at the ceiling, the vodka bottle forgotten on the floor.

I’d lied to him. Not just about tonight, but about the entire situation. I had let this go too far. Mara was holding a match to the most fragile, precious thing in my life. And I was too paralyzed to stop her.

I didn’t know how to fix this.

If she leaked that video, it wouldn’t just be Declan’s job. It would be his reputation. His life.

And what would be left of me after that?

I pulled my knees tighter against my chest.

Declan had told me to come to him with my problems. He had promised to protect me. To take care of me.

But how could I ask him to protect me from this?

When protecting me might destroy him?

Tears welled again, and this time I didn’t fight them.