Hundred and Seventy Six
Hundred and Seventy Six
Declan drove fast, too fast, the headlights cutting through the dark as the car passed. The city blurred past us, it was a short drive, and the car was zooming really loud, but all I could hear was my own pulse, loud and uneven.
He hadn’t looked at me once since we left his mother’s house. Even though I thought we had been okay after the fight, once he had begun to drive, I had felt his mood worsen.
I watched his knuckles flex on the steering wheel, the muscle in his jaw twitch. His silence was worse than his temper. It was the kind that came from deep inside. I hated the silence. I would rather he yelled at me.
When he finally pulled into our driveway, he didn’t kill the engine right away. Just sat there, staring straight ahead, breathing hard.
“Declan…” I said softly.
He didn’t answer.
“Please, say something.”
He turned then, slowly, and when he did, his eyes were filled with something I didn’t recognize. Some sort of deep sadness.
“I told you not to go,” he said quietly.
My stomach twisted. “I know. I thought she wanted to fix things, and I don’t want you to lose your mom.”
“She doesn’t fix things, Willow. She destroys them.”
His voice wasn’t raised, but it felt worse. The rebuke stung.
“I know what she did tonight was awful,” I said, my throat tight. “But I couldn’t have known, Declan.”
“Of course you could have known!” he snapped, finally slamming his hand against the steering wheel. “You knew exactly who she is, and you still walked in there. And now -”
“Now what?”
He laughed bitterly, exhausted. “Now you’ve given her more ammunition. Now she has her next story to tell her friends, her lawyers, the entire goddamn city. And I couldn’t stop it.”
His voice cracked near the end, and that’s when I realized. This wasn’t anger. It was some sort of misplaced shame.
He shoved the car door open and got out.
I followed him inside, my heart pounding, the air between us charged as he strode ahead.
The second we stepped through the door, he tore off his jacket and threw it onto the couch. “Do you have any idea what it felt like standing there?”
“Declan -”
“Watching her drag you through the mud in front of all those people? Watching them laugh?” His voice rose. “I just stood there. I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t protect you. Not from her, not
from the world, not from any of it.”
“You did protect me,” I said, my voice shaking. “You defended me, you did!”
“It wasn’t enough!” he shouted.
The echo of it rang through the house.
He took a breath, but it came out jagged. “It’s never enough. I promised you, Willow. I told you I’d keep you safe, that you’d never have to go through this again. And every time I make that
promise, something worse happens.”
My chest ached. “That’s not fair. That’s not true.”
He laughed, short and humorless. “Fair? What’s fair about this? You get humiliated in front of people who think they own the world, and I just stand there like some useless fool who can’t
even stop his mother from hurting the woman he loves.”
I blinked fast, my throat thick. “You’re not useless.”
“Well I fucking feel like it.
He turned away, pacing. His hands were trembling. I could see how much he hated himself for something that wasn’t his fault, and it scared me, how deep that self-loathing was running
through his blood.
“You don’t have to fix everything,” I whispered. “You don’t have to be perfect.”
He spun around, eyes blazing. “But I do!”
“Why?”
“Because if I don’t, you get hurt! Noah gets hurt!”
His breathing was ragged now. “You, Noah; you keep paying the price for my mistakes. For my family. For my name. I’m supposed to be the man who fixes things, and instead, I just keep breaking them.”
“Declan…”
He dragged a hand through his hair, looking wrecked. “You deserve someone who doesn’t come with this attached. Someone who doesn’t have to keep apologizing for the life he came from.”
I stepped toward him. “Don’t do that. Don’t start pushing me away.”
“I’m not pushing you away.”
“Yes, you are,” I said, my voice trembling. “You’re trying to run from me. You’re blaming yourself for something you did not do.”
He shook his head, staring at the floor. “You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it to me.”
He looked up, and his eyes were tired. “Maybe you’d be better off without me.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
“What?”
He exhaled shakily, pressing his fingers against his temples. “I can’t keep failing you like this, Willow. I can’t keep watching you hurt because of me. Maybe if I step back, if I -”
“Don’t,” I whispered.
He froze.
“Don’t say it.”
His voice broke. “I love you. God, I love you so much. But maybe love isn’t enough to undo what I bring with me.”
Tears blurred my vision. “You think I need you to be my savior? That’s not why I’m here, Declan.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I love you,” I said, louder now, desperate. “Because I chose this, I chose you, even when it wasn’t easy. I don’t care about your name, or your family, or your mother. I just want you.”
He stared at me for a long moment, breathing hard. And for a heartbeat, I thought he’d finally let the wall down.
But then he took a slow step back. “You shouldn’t have to keep choosing me.”
Something inside me cracked open.
“Don’t do this,” I whispered. “Please.”
He closed his eyes, his face twisting like he was in pain. “I can’t look at you tonight and not feel like I failed you again.”
He grabbed his coat from the couch and turned toward the door.
“Declan,” I said again, my voice breaking.
He stopped, but didn’t look at me. “I just need to think.”
“About what?”
“About things,” he sighed, “Fuck, Willow, I just need some space.”
And before I could move, before I could say anything else, he opened the door and walked out.
I stood there frozen for a few seconds before the first sob slipped out.
Then the next.
And then I was on the floor, my knees pulled to my chest, crying into my hands like I hadn’t in years.
Outside, I heard the car start.
And as his car pulled away, the only thing left was silence. I sat there until the headlights faded from the window, until I couldn’t see anything through the blur of tears.