Chapter 21
Lena
I finish putting the last curl in my hair and look at myself in his mirror.
This isn't just some reflection anymore. It’s me, standing in the bathroom of the man I love, wearing the evidence of a life we’ve stitched together in stolen moments. My makeup’s flawless, my outfit carefully chosen, but my heart is anything but calm.
Tonight is dinner at Wesley’s. Shattered Souls front and center, like always.
Family dinners are nothing new; we’ve done this a hundred times.
But tonight’s different. For the first time since Declan and I became us, we’ll be in the same room with everyone, pretending like nothing’s changed when everything has.
When everything means more than it ever has before.
Last night, when he finally came home from the fight, he was tense. Distant. His hands touched me like they were desperate, but his eyes, God, his eyes were filled with fear. Not of me. Not of what we are. But of him. Of Wesley.
And I get it. I really do.
But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t piss me off.
We’ve been together for a while now. This isn’t some reckless, temporary fling that’ll fizzle out when the sex stops being good.
This is love. Real, gut-deep, soul-stretching love.
I feel it in every glance, every touch, every unspoken word that hangs between us.
And the fact that he’s still keeping it a secret, still keeping me a secret. It fucking hurts.
“Hey.” His voice cuts through my thoughts, low and rough.
He’s leaning in the bathroom doorway, his presence commanding even when he’s not trying to be. My eyes meet his in the mirror, and I try to offer a smile, but it dies on my lips before it gets halfway there.
“Hey,” I say back, soft and strained.
He sighs and walks in, arms wrapping around my waist, his mouth brushing over the curve of my neck. “You look gorgeous.”
I close my eyes at the warmth of it. The comfort. The love. But then I open them again, because comfort is not enough right now.
“But that changes nothing, right?”
His arms tighten around me, and I hate how my body still melts into him. How even when I’m angry, part of me only wants to turn around and climb into his arms like everything is fine.
“I love you, Lena,” he whispers. “Nothing changes that.”
“But it’s not enough to admit to my brother?”
Our eyes meet in the mirror again, and this time neither of us looks away. The pain in his eyes is sharp. The guilt is cutting. But the fear, that’s what nearly breaks me.
Still, I don’t back down.
“You’ve been hiding me for weeks, Declan. Hiding us. At some point, it starts to feel like I’m not someone you’re proud of.”
“Lena—”
“No. Don’t ‘Lena’ me right now. I’ve been patient. I’ve given you space. But I’m tired of pretending this isn’t real in front of everyone who matters to both of us.”
He runs a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his body. “Let’s just get through tonight. Please. We’ll talk after. I promise.”
I pull away, not because I want to, but because I have to. I gather my makeup, shove it into my bag, and keep my voice calm. “I’m going to head over now.”
“Baby, please try to understand,” he says, and I can hear the crack in his voice.
I turn and face him, hands on my hips, holding my ground even though part of me is already breaking. “I do understand. I’ve been understanding. But if you’re going to keep acting like we’re nothing, then I’ll play along. I’ll just be another familiar face at the table tonight.”
I brush past him and head for the door.
“Lena!” he calls after me, but I don’t stop. I can’t.
The moment I’m in the car, I sit with my eyes closed, breathing deep, trying to steady the war inside me. My chest aches. My fingers tremble against the steering wheel. All I want to do is turn around and tell him I’ll wait forever. That I’d rather hide in the shadows than lose him.
But I won’t say it. Not this time.
By the time I pull into Wesley’s driveway, a few bikes are already out front. I glance at myself in the rearview mirror and catch the sadness in my own eyes. The hollowness. That emptiness that used to live there before Declan ever touched me. It’s back. And it hurts.
I force a smile anyway. That’s what I’ve always been good at, masking how I feel until I’ve made peace with it later. And even though it feels fake, the moment I walk through the front door, the warmth of voices and laughter hits me like a wave.
This is home. In the weirdest, loudest, most broken way. It’s home.
“Lee Lee!” Wesley’s voice booms as he comes over, pulling me into a hug so tight I feel my ribs creak. I return it just as hard, burying my face against his shoulder for half a second longer than I need to.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long,” he says as he pulls back.
“I’ve been busy,” I say, giving him a soft smile. “But I’m glad to be here now.”
“Me too, baby sister. Come on, let’s get you a drink.”
“Best offer I’ve had all day.”
As we move through the house, I hear someone behind me.
“Lena, wow, you look amazing,” Dari says, her voice coated in sugar and insincerity.
I glance at her tight black dress, short enough to be indecent, and smirk. I look down at my fitted jeans and one-sleeve black top. “Thanks. Sometimes, leaving things to the imagination is way more sexy.”
Her mouth drops and I walk away, satisfied. I’ve always hated how these girls float around the club like they own it. I hated how easily they slipped into the beds of men like Declan. But not tonight. Because tonight I know better. Declan may be scared, but his love isn’t in question.
Still, guilt coils in my chest as I move from room to room, saying hi, smiling, laughing when needed.
I shouldn’t have left him like that. I should’ve talked to him, calmed him down, reassured him that we’d figure it out together.
But I didn’t. And now he’s probably walking into this house, thinking he’s alone in it.
“Declan!”
Wesley’s voice calls out, and my stomach tightens instantly. I turn, heart in my throat.
And then I see him.
He walks through the doorway, tall and steady, but the second his eyes find mine, everything else fades. The room, the noise, the people, it all blurs. What’s left is him. And the raw look on his face.
Pain. Regret. And something deeper.
Love.
The kind of love that speaks without words.
And God help me, it breaks my heart.
Because it’s everything I want hidden in the eyes of a man too scared to claim me.
Declan doesn’t look away, not right away.
For a long, breathless second, we just stare at each other across the crowded room, like the noise has been sucked out of it. His jaw is tight, his eyes pleading, and even from here, I can feel the pull. The gravity of him. Of us.
And I hate that I love him so much in this moment.
I tear my eyes away first. I have to. If I keep looking, I’ll crumble. I’ll go running into his arms and forget that he’s the one who made me feel this way to begin with. And maybe that’s not fair. But tonight, I’m not sure I care about fair. Tonight, I want to be seen.
Not as Wesley’s sister.
Not as someone to protect or keep hidden.
But as his.
The sound of Wesley clapping his hands pulls my attention back to the moment.
“All right, assholes! Food’s ready. Get your shit and sit your asses down!”
A few laughs echo around the room, and I move toward the table with the others.
It’s loud and chaotic, just like every other dinner here.
The guys talking over each other, someone always bitching about who stole the last beer, and someone else trying to claim dibs on seconds before the first plate is even full.
I slide into a seat at the long wooden table, tucking my legs beneath me and reaching for a roll as Wesley drops down beside me. A beer is already set in front of me, of course it is. He always remembers how I like it cold and uncapped before I sit. It’s the little things.
Declan sits across from me.
I feel it. Before I even look up, I feel it.
His presence hits me like a storm, quiet and slow-moving, but heavy, loaded with thunderclouds. I keep my eyes down, busying myself with buttering my roll, but I know he’s watching me. I can feel the weight of it, like his gaze alone is trying to pull my face back up to his.
I finally glance up, and he’s still there, eyes locked on me like I’m the only person in the room.
God, I hate that it makes my stomach flutter.
Wesley passes me a bowl of mashed potatoes and leans in. “You okay?” he asks low.
I smile at him, soft but honest. “Yeah. Just tired.”
It’s not a lie. I am tired.
Tired of hiding. Tired of hurting. Tired of loving someone who won’t say it out loud when it matters most.
“Good,” he says, ruffling my hair like I’m twelve. “We missed your sass around here.”
I laugh, a real one, and for a moment, the knot in my chest loosens.
Then Declan speaks.
“Wes,” he says, and I glance up just in time to see him push his chair back and lean forward on his elbows. “Thanks for the invite. Dinner looks great.”
Wesley grins, clearly pleased. “Yeah, well, I figured it was time for everyone to sit down together again. We’ve had too many fucking fights and too little damn family time.”
There are nods around the table, some murmurs of agreement.
“And,” Wesley adds, nudging me with his elbow, “I already told Lena, but I’m making her come back over tomorrow. I want you both here.”
My eyes snap to his.
Both?
Declan shifts in his seat, and my gaze swings back to him. His eyes are still on me, but there’s something different now, less fear, more intent.
“I’ll be here. We’ll be here,” he says, voice low and calm.
My breath catches.
Wesley just nods, oblivious. “Good. About time you two spent more time together again.”
I wonder for a second if he knows. If he suspects. But the moment passes when someone throws a roll and it hits Elias in the side of the head, and the table erupts in laughter.
Declan never looks away from me.
My heart pounds against my ribs like it’s trying to break free from my chest. I stare at him, blinking slowly, trying to read between the words. We’ll be here.
He didn’t ask. He didn’t hedge.
He told Wesley we’d come. Together.
And maybe it’s not a confession, not a declaration in front of everyone, but it’s something. A thread pulling us back together after everything that unraveled before dinner.
I reach for my beer, needing something to ground me. Our fingers brush as he does the same, and even that stupid, small touch sparks something electric under my skin.
I don’t smile. Not yet.
But I don’t look away this time either.
Because maybe tonight we’re still playing pretend for everyone else.
But tomorrow? Maybe tomorrow we won’t be.
I splash cold water on my face, careful not to smudge my makeup, and stare at myself in the mirror. My heart's still racing from dinner, not from the food or the crowd, but from him. Declan.
That look he gave me across the table? It’s still crawling under my skin.
I shouldn’t have stared back. I shouldn’t have let that tiny flicker of hope get through. But I did.
The bathroom door clicks behind me.
My breath hitches before I even turn.
“Declan,” I whisper, my voice caught between surprise and inevitability.
He shuts the door softly behind him, making my chest squeeze tight. He doesn't say anything right away. He just steps forward and cups my cheek with his hand, so gently, like I’ll break if he’s not careful. His thumb grazes my skin, his touch warm, grounding.
“I’m telling him tomorrow,” he says, voice low and sure. “I should’ve done it weeks ago, but I’m doing it now. You were right, Lena. About all of it.”
I swallow hard, my hands resting against his chest. I can feel his heart pounding under my fingertips. He pulls me closer with his other arm, wrapping it around my waist, holding me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.
Tears prick my eyes but don’t fall. I blink them back as I stare into his. “You mean it?”
He nods. “No more hiding. No more secrets. You don’t deserve that, and I can’t keep pretending like I’m okay with it. I love you. And I want everyone to know it.”
He leans in and presses his lips to mine. It’s not just a kiss, it’s a promise. A promise that his love for me is the only thing he truly needs. This kiss is soft, deep, and a reminder that what we have is real and unbreakable, unless we choose to let it break.
When he pulls away, he rests his forehead on mine, rubbing his thumb softly over my cheek.
I close my eyes and lean into his touch. Everything inside me aches with how badly I want to believe this is finally it. That the fight is over. That we’ve made it through.
But then the door swings open.
“What the fuck is this?”
Wesley’s voice crashes into the moment like a grenade.
Declan jerks back from me like I’ve burned him. His hand falls from my face, his arm drops from my waist, and suddenly there’s nothing between us but cold space.
I freeze, but not before I see the look on Wesley’s face. Shock. Hurt. Fury.
I look to Declan.
Wait for him to speak.
To say something.
Anything.
But he doesn't.
He just stands there. Silent, frozen, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights of the truth.
And that’s all the answer I need.
I force a bitter smile, one that doesn’t come close to reaching my eyes. “This is nothing, Wesley,” I say, voice hollow. “It’s absolutely nothing.”
I push past both of them without looking back.
My hands don’t start shaking until I hit the front door.
And by the time I’m in my car, I’m crying too hard to drive.