Hundred and Seventy Five

Hundred and Seventy Five

For a second, I just stood there at the doorstep, breathing hard, staring at the dark stretch of asphalt that led out from the Ashwell estate. 

I could still hear faint conversation from inside, the clink of glasses, the hum of people whispering about me. I began to take a step down, then I heard the door slam behind me.

“Willow…wait…” Declan’s voice was loud, almost frantic. He caught up to me in a few strides, his hand brushing my arm. 

I turned to him, my throat thick. “You shouldn’t have had to defend me in there.”

“Why the fuck would I not defend you?” His voice was sharp, his eyes bright and angry. “She ambushed you. She -”

But he didn’t get to finish.

Because then came the sound of heels, deliberate, sharp, echoing across the marble floor.

Emma.

“Declan.”

Her tone wasn’t soft anymore. It was cold. Clipped.

I stiffened, instinctively stepping back, but Declan moved slightly in front of me.

“What do you want?” he asked flatly.

She scoffed. “What do I want? How about some basic respect, for starters? You just humiliated me in my own home.”

“You humiliated her,” he snapped.

“She humiliated you!” Emma’s voice rose, breaking its practiced calm. “You’ve thrown away everything for that woman! For a scandal! For a woman who is beneath you!”

Declan laughed bitterly. “Beneath me? God, do you even hear yourself?”

“I hear you, Declan,” she said sharply, her voice still loud. The room behind us had fell silent. They were all listening in. “You, my ungrateful son, who took everything we gave him. Our money, our name, our support. And turned it into a shit show. You think you built your life yourself? You think you’d have gone anywhere without us? Without me?”

His jaw clenched. “You didn’t build my life. You built a cage for me, and you hate me because I didn’t want your gilded cage.”

Emma took a step closer. “A cage? We gave you everything. The best schools, the best opportunities. And this is how you repay us? Parading around with this -”

Her eyes flicked to me, and for a heartbeat, it looked like she wanted to push me down these stairs.

“Be very careful, Mother,” Declan’s voice was low, “About what you are going to say next.”

But she was unstoppable. 

“With her?” Emma spat, her voice dripping disdain. “This slut who almost ruined your career once and is doing it again now? You think she is the love of your life? She’s your downfall, Declan!”

Declan froze for a moment. So did I. The weight of that word, the conviction in her voice.

“Don’t you ever call her that again,” he growled.

“Oh, what? A slut?” She smiled a sickening smile. “Is it bad to call a spade a spade?”

“Enough, Emma,” came a deep voice from behind her.

Mr. Ashwell appeared behind her. Declan’s father. 

I had barely spoken to him at all, in recent days, but I knew he had the same disdain for me that his wife did.

“Not now,” Emma said sharply, waving him off. “He needs to hear this.”

“He’s heard enough,” Mr. Ashwell interrupted, stepping closer. His tone was calm, but it carried a kind of finality that made even Emma pause. He looked at Declan with something like weary disappointment. “You’ve made your choice, son. And it’s clear there’s no reasoning with you anymore.”

“Reasoning?” Declan’s laugh came out rough, angry. “You mean blind obedience.”

“You’ve embarrassed this family enough for a lifetime,” his father said coldly. “Walk away before you make it worse.”

Declan took a slow step forward, the tension rolling off him like heat. “You think there’s anything left to make worse? You stood there all these years, silent while she tore me apart. You let her do this to Willow. You think I want to be part of this family?”

“Declan,” Emma warned, her tone hardening.

“No,” he said, voice rising. “I’m done pretending. You both made it very clear what matters to you. Your money, your image, your pretence. You don’t love me. I am just another symbol of success to you, like everything else. And I will never be sorry for living my life the way I wanted to.”

“Stop this,” Emma hissed. “You sound insane.”

“Maybe,” he said, his voice cracking just slightly. “I guess it’s in the blood.”

Mr. Ashwell stepped forward, jaw set. “That’s enough. You’re leaving. And after tonight, we will never speak again.”

Declan didn’t even hesitate. “You never had to say it.”

Emma’s face went pale. “Declan,” this time her voice had fallen to a whisper.

But he was already turning away, his hand closing around mine. “We’re done here.”

He didn’t look back as he led me down the steps, past the rows of gleaming cars, past the doorman who looked anywhere but at us.

He yanked open the car door for me, slammed his own, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.

He started the engine with a rough motion, the tires crunching against gravel as the mansion shrank in the rearview mirror.

I sat beside him, silent, my hands trembling in my lap.

The adrenaline faded slowly, replaced by a dull ache that spread through my chest.

When I finally found my voice, it came out in a whisper. “She called me a slut.”

Declan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles white. “I’m sorry, Willow.”

The world outside blurred into faint shapes of lights and trees and the reflection of my own tear-streaked face in the window.

“Declan…”

He exhaled, the sound sharp and weary. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. I’m sorry she…”

“Stop,” I said softly. “Thank you, for defending me.”

He looked over then, just for a second, and the pain in his eyes undid me completely.

I turned toward the window, the tears spilling over before I could stop them. I tried to wipe them away quietly, but my breath hitched, betraying me.

He reached across the console, his hand finding mine.