Chapter 96: Ninety Six

Going to work felt wrong that morning. The office was too bright, too loud, every little sound slicing through my head like a blade. The whir of the printer, the chatter of two interns by the coffee machine, the hum of the overhead lights, it was all too much. Or maybe it wasn’t the office at all. Maybe it was me.

I hadn’t really slept. I’d lain there for hours, staring at the ceiling, replaying the kiss with Declan like a movie stuck on a loop. His mouth on mine. The sharp intake of his breath when I pressed closer. The way my fingers had curled into his shirt as if they remembered the shape of him better than I did.

God.

It had been years since I’d kissed him, and yet it felt like no time at all. Like the years hadn’t mattered. Like Jacob, and Noah, and everything I’d built had just been background noise to this one reckless second.

I hated myself for it.

So I made a plan: act normal. Keep my head down. Pretend it had been nothing more than too much alcohol and poor judgment. People did stupid things when they were drunk. That was all this was. That was all I would let it be.

I repeated the mantra to myself as I set my bag down at my desk, powered up my laptop, and opened my inbox. I typed out polite responses to emails, drafted a briefing note for a client meeting. My fingers moved quickly, as though I could type my way out of the guilt.

I was in the middle of an email when I felt the shift in the air, the weight of a stare I knew too well.

I looked up.

Declan was leaning against my doorway, a paper coffee cup in one hand. His tie was loose, his shirt sleeves rolled up, as though he’d gotten ready in a rush. But it wasn’t the casualness of his appearance that sent heat rushing through me. It was his eyes. He was watching me like he knew every thought in my head.

My stomach dropped.

“Morning,” I blurted out, too bright, too quick, the kind of cheerfulness people used when they were hiding something.

“Morning,” he said back, softer, lazier, but there was weight in the word.

I glanced at my screen again, desperate to seem busy. “Lots to do today.”

“Yeah.” He took a slow sip of his coffee, then stepped into the office. My pulse jumped.

He set the cup down on the edge of my desk, close enough that I could smell the faint burn of espresso. “You remember last night?”

My fingers froze over the keyboard.

I kept my eyes on the email draft, though the words blurred. “Not really. I had too much to drink.”

The lie tasted bitter. I remembered every damn second. The cold balcony railing pressing into my back. The sound of laughter spilling from the party behind us. His hand sliding to the back of my neck. The way he had whispered

my name before kissing me like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted.

But if I admitted that, if I even opened that door, everything I’d built would crack.

Declan leaned down slightly, his voice low enough that only I could hear it. “Funny. Because I remember everything.”

I forced myself to meet his gaze. His eyes were steady, unflinching, and in them I saw the truth: he wasn’t going to let me rewrite what had happened.

“Declan…” My voice was a request. Begging. Please, don’t do this. Forget this. Nothing ever happened.

“Don’t,” he cut in, his voice sharp but not cruel. “Don’t pretend it was nothing. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it.”

My throat went dry. “We can’t. I can’t. I have a life now. A family. Jacob…”

The name felt heavy in my mouth.

Declan’s jaw tightened. “Jacob.”

“Yes,” I said, gripping the edge of my desk like it might keep me steady. “He’s been here for me. He stayed. He loves me. He’s…”

“Your fiance.,” Declan finished for me, his tone edged with something between anger and resignation.

I flinched.

Declan dragged a hand through his hair, pacing a step away before turning back. “I get it, Willow. You want stability. You’re engaged. Do you think I don’t realise that?” His voice cracked, just slightly. “But don’t lie to me. Not about

what happened last night. Not about what we are.”

I pressed my eyes shut, my chest aching. The truth was unbearable: he was right. Whatever this was between us hadn’t died, no matter how hard I’d tried to kill it.

But then I pictured Noah’s messy hair, the way he clutched his toy cars in his sleep. I pictured Jacob in the kitchen, pouring cereal into a bowl, humming under his breath like he always did in the mornings.

And the guilt nearly split me in two.

“I left for a reason,” I whispered, forcing the words out through the lump in my throat. “You know that. We’re no good for each other.”

Declan’s face shifted, something like pain flickering across it. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Finally, he spoke, softer than before. “I never stopped loving you.”

My heart clenched so hard it hurt.

God help me, I believed him. And that was the worst part.

Because I loved him too. That love had never gone away, no matter how deep I’d buried it.

But love wasn’t enough. Not when there was Jacob. Not when there was Noah. Not when the cost of a mistake was more than I could afford to pay.

I pushed back my chair abruptly, needing space, needing air. “I need to go.”

Declan didn’t move to stop me. He just stood there, his eyes following me as I gathered random papers I didn’t need, shoved them into a folder, and slipped past him into the hall.

The lights overhead buzzed, the voices of my colleagues echoed down the corridor, but all I could hear was the echo of his words.

I never stopped loving you.

I pressed my back against the cool wall outside my office, my hands trembling.

I couldn’t keep living like this, torn in two. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. Last night had cracked something open, and I couldn’t shove it closed again.

If I didn’t come clean now, it would destroy me later.

I had to tell Jacob the truth, about the kiss, about Declan, about everything I’d been burying for years.

Even if it ruined us.

Even if it ruined me.