Chapter 99: Ninety Nine

I woke up to the faint vibration of my phone on the nightstand. The room was quiet and Jacob was still asleep beside me, one arm thrown across the pillow where I had been lying just moments before. I eased myself up carefully so I wouldn’t disturb his sleep and reached for my phone.

It was a message from Declan.

Can we talk? Coffee before work? Just fifteen minutes.

My stomach tightened instantly, the way it always did when his name appeared on my screen. The memory of the party, the drunken kiss, the way his lips had felt against mine, all of it rushed back like a wave I couldn’t push away. But then I looked over at Jacob, breathing steadily in his sleep, and the thoughts went away. I was here with my fiance. We loved each other. Nothing else mattered.

I thought - I should ignore it. I should delete the message and never answer. That would be the smart thing to do. The right thing.

But my fingers betrayed me. Okay. Coffee shop near the office. I’ll be there in an hour.

I slipped into the shower, my head pounding with thoughts I didn’t want. I told myself this was the last time. I was going to end it properly, face-to-face. If I wanted any chance of salvaging what I had with Jacob, what I needed to have for Noah’s sake, I had to draw a line in permanent marker.

By the time I got to the coffee shop, my nerves were raw. The rain from yesterday had left the streets damp, the air heavy with the smell of wet earth. I ordered a cold brew and sat by the window, tapping my fingers against the paper cup to release some of the restless energy building inside me.

Declan walked in a few minutes later, looking maddeningly composed in his crisp shirt and that same jacket I remembered from years ago. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on me, and something unspoken flickered between us. I noticed the way his expression changed when he looked at me.

In another life, this would have been the perfect time for us to reconnect. Away from the constraints of the professor-student relationship we had started with. Just two adults who couldn’t stay away from each other.

Before he could even say hello, I leaned forward and cut him off. “Declan, don’t. Please.”

He stopped in his tracks, his jaw tightening as he slid into the chair across from me. His eyes searched mine, but I didn’t let him speak.

“I need you to stay away from me,” I said firmly. “From now on. Nothing good is going to come out of…this. Whatever this is. We can’t keep doing this dance, pretending we’re just colleagues when clearly we’re not. It’s not fair to me, it’s not fair to Jacob. And not to you.”

His expression faltered at Jacob’s name, but he didn’t interrupt. He just leaned back, shoulders tense, his gaze fixed on me like he was trying to memorize every word I was saying.

“I shouldn’t have let things go this far,” I continued, my voice shaking despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “The kiss at the party. It was wrong. I was drunk, yes, but that’s not an excuse. I should have stopped it. And I should have stopped…us, whatever has been happening between us, a long time ago. I can’t do this anymore.”

Declan exhaled slowly, and for a moment he didn’t say anything. Then his voice came low, regretful. “I’m sorry, Willow. For all of it. For putting you in this position. For the kiss. I got carried away.”

“So did I,” I admitted before I could stop myself. My hands clenched around the coffee cup, the condensation wet on my palms. “But that doesn’t make it okay.”

“I know,” he said softly. His eyes darkened, something heavy swirling in them. “You’re right. Nothing good will come of this. I just… I thought maybe I owed you an apology in person.”

I nodded quickly, swallowing against the lump in my throat. “You’ve apologized. And I’ve said what I need to. We need to keep this professional from now on. Strictly work. No coffee, no parties, no drives, no… whatever that was at the motel.”

Declan’s mouth tightened at that memory, but he gave a short nod. “Understood.”

We sat in silence for a moment, the air between us heavy with everything unspoken. I wanted him to leave. I wanted to get up and walk out. But at the same time, I couldn’t stop looking at him. Couldn’t stop remembering what it felt like when his hand brushed mine, when his lips hovered over mine, when he had looked at me like I was the only thing in the room that mattered.

And then it happened again. That pull. That silent gravity that dragged me toward him despite every logical reason to resist.

He leaned forward slightly, his hand resting on the table, fingers curling as if fighting the urge to reach for mine. His voice was low, almost a whisper. “You have no idea how hard it is, sitting here and not…”

“Don’t,” I whispered back, though my own body betrayed me by leaning the smallest fraction closer. My pulse hammered in my throat, my breath uneven. The space between us shrank, my eyes flickering down to his lips against my will.

For a dangerous, suspended second, it felt like we were both going to break every promise I had just made. That we were going to lean in and erase the distance, consequences be damned.

And fuck, I wanted that. I wanted so bad to kiss him. To hold him. I wanted him to bend me right over this coffee table.

I almost reached out to touch his hand.

But Declan pushed back suddenly, chair scraping against the floor as he stood. His hands went to his pockets, his shoulders stiff. “I should go.”

I nodded quickly, unable to find my voice, my chest aching like something vital had just been ripped out of it.

He gave me one last look. Long, weighted, almost unbearably tender, before turning and walking out of the coffee shop.

I sat there for a long time after he left, staring at my untouched coffee, trying to steady my breathing. My hands were shaking, my mind a storm of guilt, longing, and something dangerously close to heartbreak.

This was supposed to be the end. I had told him to stay away, and he had agreed. That should have been a relief. Instead, it felt like I had just cut out a part of myself and left it on the table between us.

I pressed my hands to my face, whispering to myself like a prayer, Jacob. Noah. Focus on them. That’s all that matters. That has to be all that matters.

But no matter how many times I repeated it, the ghost of Declan’s eyes, the warmth of his touch, and the ache of what we hadn’t done lingered, impossible to shake.