Chapter 14
Then Mr.
Declan.
Then Daddy Declan.
The first time Sophie accidentally called him Daddy without the second name, everyone froze.
She looked horrified.
“Sorry.”
Declan’s face crumpled.
“Don’t ever apologize for that.”
She hugged him.
I left the room because suddenly I couldn’t breathe.
He found me outside.
“You okay?”
“No.”
He stood beside me.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Everything.”
The night air smelled of jasmine.
I looked at him.
He continued.
“I keep thinking about birthdays.”
“Declan.”
“First words.
First steps.
The night they were born.”
“You can’t recover those.”
“I know.”
“Then stop punishing yourself with them.”
His eyes found mine.
“Why are you being kind to me?”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
I thought about it.
“Because they love you.”
Pain crossed his face.
“I love them too.”
“I know.”
He looked toward the house.
Then said quietly:
“I think I never stopped loving you.”
I closed my eyes.
“No.”
“Cassidy.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m not asking for anything.”
“Then don’t say it.”
“It’s true.”
I faced him.
“You don’t get to return to my life because the universe revealed your mother committed some monstrous act and suddenly turn this into a romance.”
“I know.”
“Our marriage was unhappy before Eleanor interfered.”
“I know.”
“You hurt me before she deleted anything.”
“I know.”
“I left you for a reason.”
“I know.”
That stopped me.
Declan stepped closer but did not touch me.
“I know you left because I made you smaller every day.
I know I treated disagreement like disobedience.
I know I confused providing with loving and control with protection.”
Tears burned my eyes.
“I spent years trying to make you understand that.”
“I needed to lose everything I thought mattered before I understood what actually did.”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“Why?”
“Because five years ago I would have given anything to hear them.”
His face broke.
“I’m five years too late.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
And he walked away.
Federal agents located Charles Hawthorne six weeks later.
Not in some foreign country.
Not hidden behind a fake passport on a Mediterranean island.
He had been living twenty-seven miles outside Atlanta under the name Charles Warren.
A private estate.
Security.
A carefully manufactured medical history.
Enough money to make questions disappear.
But Charles had disappeared hours before agents arrived.
Someone had warned him.
The investigation turned toward Eleanor.
She denied it.
Declan believed her.
I wasn’t sure.