Chapter Thirty-Two Declan
Chapter Thirty-Two
Declan
Regardless of the lovely morning spent painting and briefly kissing Colin, I still have a massive hangover and another shitstorm of things to deal with before this godforsaken wedding. If there even is one.
God, I hope there’s not.
He can’t possibly go through with this after feeling what we did this morning, can he? It’s like we opened a book we can’t just close now.
After my shower, I take enough aspirin to kill a horse and pound a cup of coffee to try and cure this hangover. When I come downstairs, the grooms are nowhere to be found, but the house is abustle with activity.
“You look like shite,” a sweet voice says, finding me in the kitchen with my forehead pressed against the cool marble of the countertop.
“I feel like shite,” I reply, not bothering to clarify that I mean physically and emotionally.
“I’ve got a good hangover cure,” Blaire says as she opens the freezer and comes back a moment later with a cold bottle of something, placing it on the counter. When I lift my gaze and see the frosty glass of a vodka bottle, I nearly throw up.
“Get that godforsaken thing away from me,” I bark.
“Relax,” she says with a laugh. Then, she goes to the fridge and retrieves a pitcher of orange juice. She pours it into a glass and adds a dash of turmeric, some grated ginger, and a shot of vodka. “Drink it.”
With a scowl, I take the glass. “Where is everyone?” I ask before taking a sip. It tastes foul, but I chug it anyway.
“Have you forgotten there’s a wedding here tomorrow?”
“I wish I could,” I mutter.
“They’re all out back for the rehearsal,” she replies casually. My stomach turns again, and I nearly lose the contents.
The rehearsal.
“Fuck,” I bark.
“What?” she asks.
“And Colin’s out there?” I ask with a wince.
She stares at me as if I’ve sprouted horns. “Of course. Where else would he be?”
I let out a sigh of frustration. Maybe he’s still thinking about things. He’s still confused and hasn’t worked up the nerve to tell Pierce that the wedding is off.
“I need to be out there,” I say in a rush.
“Why? You’ve done everything already. Stay in here.”
“No, I should go,” I mutter with a groan.
Dropping the half-drunk glass of screwdriver from hell onto the counter, I turn to rush out the back door. I hear the commotion of the crowd in the distance, and by some miracle, Mother Nature has actually given us a break from the rain long enough to hold a rehearsal.
Then, I look up.
Suddenly, I’m gazing across the yard at the two men stationed together, and it all hits me like violent storm.
I feel like I’ve been slapped. Sucker punched. Delivered a deadly blow.
Colin and Pierce are hand in hand as they stare each other. And Colin is…smiling.
For some reason, I can’t move. I’m paralyzed by pain. Intense, visceral agony like someone is violently clawing my heart from my chest.
“Declan…”
My brow furrows as I turn toward Blaire.
“Are you okay?” she whispers.
“I’m fine,” I snap.
“Declan.” She repeats my name in a way that makes me pause, with sincerity and alarm. Then she gazes into my eyes as she says, “You’re not fine. And it’s okay if you’re not.”
Tears prick behind my eyes, and it feels as if a tree has sprouted roots in my chest, weighing me down and pinning me to the earth.
This entire week I’ve felt like I’m losing Colin all over again. But I’m not losing him—he’s already gone.
All this time I’ve wasted thinking that I’d be better off alone. Thinking that he’d eventually come back. Thinking he truly belonged to me.
What a fool I am.
Turning away from Blaire, I march back up to the house. With a feeling of defeat, I disappear into the manor.
“Declan,” she calls as she follows me through the kitchen. “Where are you going? What about the wedding?”
Grabbing Anna’s leather notebook from the counter, I shove it at her. “I don’t care about the wedding. Call Anna. The bet is off.”
Blaire slams the notebook on the table. “What about you?”
“I need to get out of here,” I growl.
“Where will you go?”
“I don’t know,” I reply as I dash out of the kitchen toward my room. She is on my heels, following me up the stairs.
“But aren’t you going to stop him?” she asks frantically, and it almost makes me laugh. A woman I shared a drink with in a pub and ghosted the morning after has suddenly become my closest friend.
“Don’t you see?” I reply. “I can’t. I have to let Colin make up his own mind.”
“Declan,” she says from the doorway of my bedroom.
“What?” I ask, pulling my suitcase from under my bed.
“Talk to him.”
“And say what?” I ask with a laugh. “Sorry about being an arsehole seven years ago but now that you have your own life, I was wondering if you would throw all of that away and give me another chance? Besides, Colin knows where I stand.”
“That guy he’s marrying is a prick, and you know it.”
I do know it. “I have no right…”
“Yes, you do,” Blaire argues. “You’re his best friend, and correct me if I’m wrong, but the love of his fucking life.”
“I was his best friend,” I mumble despondently. “And I was the love of his life. But I fucked it up once, and I’d surely fuck it up again. Besides, I tried. I showed him everything this morning. I made it very clear…”
Didn’t I? Was it clear enough?
Fuck, why am I so bad at this?
“Listen,” she says, stepping into the room.
“I have been watching you two the past six days. The love between you is still there. I can see it. You’re just both bitter and chafed about something that happened a long time ago.
Don’t throw away your chance for true happiness because you’re a stubborn arse. ”
“You don’t understand,” I say through the pain.
“Okay, try me.” She crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe.
“I’d be a terrible boyfriend. I’m not good at being romantic or transparent. I have no business being in a relationship. Colin would be better off marrying that American arsehole.”
Blaire tilts her head and glares at me. “You don’t really mean that.”
“Okay, you’re right, I don’t mean that, but he’d better off with someone else.”
“Why? Because you don’t know how to say romantic things and wouldn’t buy him flowers? Do you hear yourself? Do you truly think someone else could love him more than you do?”
“No,” I reply without hesitation.
“Then bloody tell him that. Fight for him, you idiot!”
“Fine!” I shout in return.
“Thank you! Tonight, at that bloody stag do, you’re going to waltz in there and take your goddamn man back.”
“All right!” I bellow.
“And you’re going to stop it with all of this second-guessing bull shite!”
“Will you stop yelling at me?”
“Put the suitcase away first,” she argues.
I throw it under my bed and toss my hands up in surrender.
“Much better.” This time there’s a smile on her face.
“I don’t think I like you very much,” I say with a glower.
“Good. Now, come on,” she replies cheerfully as she loops her arm through mine. “Let’s make you look so good for this party tonight he won’t possibly be able to say no.”
I glance up at her perplexed. “What’s wrong with the way I look now?”
She just laughs, tugging me to the door.
* * *
Blaire sets me up on a chair in my bathroom and cuts inches off of my hair while my knee bounces nervously.
“Relax,” she says. “What are you so afraid of? That man is no match for you. I’ve seen the way Colin looks at you.”
“It’s not that,” I mutter as I glare at my reflection. The man looking back at me is a fool. He once had everything and threw it all away. Something I have never forgiven him for.
“Then what is it?” she asks, shaking the strands of my hair with her fingers.
“I’ve already fucked things up with him once.”
“You don’t think he’ll give you another chance?” she asks.
“I don’t think I deserve it,” I mumble. “Not to mention…losing him last time nearly killed me. I never fully recovered from that. I can’t do it again.”
“How did you lose him? Whatever you did, you must have learned, right? Don’t do it again.”
I chuff, and she looks at me expectantly.
“You don’t understand,” I reply. “Colin and I were friends first. For four years, we were best friends. And then we became friends who fucked. But he wanted me to be his boyfriend. We were at a party like…this one tonight, and he wanted me to…”
“To what?” she snaps when I don’t finish right away.
“It doesn’t matter,” I reply. “The point is I wouldn’t give him the commitment he wanted, nor the freedom. I took Colin for granted for so long. It wasn’t fair of me,” I mutter, feeling like utter horse shite as the words leave my lips.
“At least you can acknowledge it now,” she says, softly tapping my shoulder. “Show him that you’ve changed. Prove it to Colin so he knows he can have everything he wants—a man who loves him and who will give him the commitment he needs. If you do that, he won’t possibly say no.”
Blaire greases up some cologne-scented wax and runs it through my now-short locks.
“Where the bloody hell did you get that?” I ask.
She smiles mischievously. “I stole it from one of the groomsmen’s rooms.”
I shake my head at her.
“But I mean…look at how hot you are!”
She moves out of the way, revealing my new look in the mirror. I hardly recognize the man staring back. I look like a version of myself. My hair is pristine. My black-on-black shirt and trousers fit like a glove.
I can’t help but wonder if this is the version of me Colin wants. The version whose life wasn’t turned on its head. Who didn’t wallow in self-pity for two decades. Who doesn’t drink too much, and whose fingers aren’t constantly covered in charcoal and clay.
“Do you like it?” Blaire asks timidly.
“Aye.” My voice is just above a whisper.
“You don’t look like you like it,” she replies.
“It’s just…”
My voice trails as I stare at the mirror, because I know that when I finish that sentence, it will break. But I’m tired of feeling tied up by own my feelings, hiding my emotions behind fake smiles and alcohol.
“I look like my father.”
My throat burns as the pain of that realization claws its way out. Tears prick my eyes as the pressure builds, and it feels like my head might explode.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” she whispers as she hugs me tightly from behind. A small smile tugs at my lips as I stare at the ghost in the mirror.
“No, it’s…good,” I reply, a smile splitting across my face.
“Really?” she asks, and I notice her eyes are wet too.
“Aye. It’s really good.”
On the next blink, a tear spills over my lashes and down my cheek. She quickly wipes it away with her sleeve before hugging me again.
It’s incredible how just a few tears release so much pressure. Just allowing myself to express how much I miss him—how much I miss them both—feels like a slab of stone has been lifted from my chest.
Because I do. I was barely a teenager when they died, transitioning from childhood to being a man, and their deaths created a chasm in my life. In a lot of ways, I think it stopped me from truly growing up.
Never facing responsibility.
Always running from my feelings.
Afraid of commitment.
Terrified of loving again.
Trauma literally stunted my growth, but falling in love with Colin healed so much of that. And I’m not ready to let him go now. If I don’t fight for him, then what was it all for?
“I’m ready,” I mutter as I fix the collar of my shirt.
“You’re bloody right you are,” Blaire replies, wiping the tears from her eyes. “The party is just starting, so get down there. Get your man back.”
She shoves me toward the door, but I turn around quickly before she can truly boot me. I throw my arms around her and pull her into a tight hug.
“Thank you,” I whisper against her head. “And I’m sorry for being such an idiot to you before. You didn’t deserve that.”
Looking almost bashful after our hug, she shoves me on the shoulder. “You’re sweet, but no hard feelings. You’re not quite my type anyway.”
With a laugh, I kiss her on the forehead, and she pushes me in earnest this time. “Now, go!”
As I make my way down the stairs, the sounds of the party boom through the empty halls. Most of the staff is gone for the night, and I know that whatever is behind those doors is far more than a stag do. Even if it starts that way, I have a feeling it’s going to get out of hand.
But none of that matters to me now. I only have one goal for the evening.
Pierce said he wanted to watch me with his fiancé, only to claim him when all is said and done. And he can watch all he wants, but he won’t be claiming him at all. Because when I get to Colin Shelby, I intend to remind him who he belongs to.
And this time, I won’t let him go.