As much as I thought I wanted to hear this, I don’t. I want to know why he wasn’t there before. I need to know what was so much more important than the ultrasound. And yet, right now, he is here.
“Declan, I can’t …”
My words drift away as my mother pulls the door open, but Declan doesn’t turn to acknowledge her. He just moves closer and sits on the edge of the bed.
“I was coming for you, Syd. I’ve been here, and we have to figure this out.” He finally looks to my mother and then back to me. “I’m going to make some calls and change my clothes, but I’ll be back.”
I nod, not really having the strength to do more. Declan leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead, but I hold my breath. It’s intimate and sweet. My head is a jumbled mess. So much has happened and I’m exhausted.
My mother touches his arm as he leaves before coming to my side.
“It’s good to see your eyes.” Her voice is soft, but I can hear the fear under it.
“Days?”
She nods. “It’s been days since that man has left your side. He’s been a wreck, but we haven’t been able to get him to take a break.”
That wasn’t what I was asking, but the information is new. “You mean he hasn’t left?”
Mom smiles softly and then sits in the chair beside the bed. “He’s been here all day and all night. Every day that you were in the coma. He would leave to shower, usually after Connor browbeat him into doing it, and maybe to grab some food, but otherwise, Declan has been at your side every moment.”
I lick my lips and let that information settle around me. “Why?”
“Because the man is in love with you,” Mom says with a laugh. “He’s been torn up about how it all happened. He’s talked to you, begged for your forgiveness, and said a lot about his feelings while you slept.”
A lot of good it does me since I don’t remember anything. “Seven days pales in comparison to the years that I’ve had to cope with being without him.”
“Maybe so, but those years of coping did nothing to stop you from leaving the farm you love, your friends, and the life you’ve built. No, my sweet girl, what did that is the man out in the hallway.”
I see his silhouette through the frosted glass, pacing back and forth, never straying far enough for me to lose sight of his profile. I would know him even in the darkness. Hell, maybe even blind.
“He lets me down. He doesn’t choose me, ever. He’s let me go, pushed me away, and abandoned me.”
She seems to consider that. “Maybe that’s true, but it’s also a bit unfair. I know true abandonment. If Declan didn’t love you, he would’ve left. He wouldn’t have spent the last week as a fixture at your bedside.”
“Obligation and duty are important to him. I’m carrying his son, so for all we know, that’s what he cared about.”
She laughs once. “You’re a fool and a liar if you believe that. I’ve seen a man stay out of obligation, Sydney, and that wasn’t what Declan did. He was devastated. Not about the baby, in fact, he and Sierra had it out about the baby and you. Declan would’ve let the entire world burn down and allow everything else to perish if it meant saving you. You don’t have to forgive him yet, but at least listen to what he says before you make a decision you’ll regret.”
I let that sink in and worry my bottom lip. I still don’t believe it completely. However, even after sleeping for what seems like forever, I’m too exhausted to think about Declan and his reasons for doing what he did.
If he loves me, he needs to do a lot more than sit at my bedside for seven days.
“Mom,” I say while my eyes start to feel heavy. “I’m sleepy.”
She rubs my cheeks. “Rest, my sweet girl, I’m right here.”
I allow my lids to fall, and as exhausted as I am, I don’t fall asleep. I drift in a muddled, dreamlike haze that is on the edge of unconsciousness. There’s a shuffle in the background, tempting me to open my eyes, but I can’t focus enough on it.
Just as darkness starts to overtake me, on the very edges of consciousness, I sense him. I feel his warmth, his scent of musk and spice meets my nose, and then the deep timbre of his voice fills my ear. “Thank you, Mom. I couldn’t have survived losing her.”
It’s been four days of resting, trying to function, and being around Declan. He will not leave. He won’t argue with me or go away, he’s just always here. Each time the doctor encourages me to do something to regain my strength, there he is … pushing me to do it.
I want to hurl something at his head.
“You should go home, you have a job,” I say as I lower myself into the chair, which is part of my daily to-do list.
Sitting.
Not walking or trying to do anything of great effort, but moving from the bed to this damn chair for more than forty minutes.
What does one do when forced to sit in a chair? Talk to the man who won’t go away.
“I’m perfectly fine here.”
“Yes, you’ve said this, but you should go.”
Declan shrugs. “I’m good.”
I groan and let my head fall back. “Our son is going to have your stubbornness, and I’m going to want to strangle myself.”
“Yes, because you’re the most accommodating person ever.”
“You’re the one who won’t leave.”
“Because I love you, and I’m not going until we figure our shit out.”
He said
