Chapter Twenty-Nine
Declan
The sky’s been gray for a week, like even the weather knows today’s going to suck. And maybe that’s fitting, because this has been the longest time Cooper and I have spent apart since my accident.
Not because we haven’t wanted to see each other; we’ve just been moving in different directions at full speed.
He’s been packing, tying up loose ends before LA, buried in meetings and plans and the kind of momentum that doesn’t leave room for anything else.
And I’ve been doing the only thing I know how to do when my head’s a mess—throwing myself into every damn shift Simone will give me.
We’ve crossed paths late at night. Shared dinners when we can, nights that end with us being too tired to do anything else but fall asleep side by side without meaning to.
But I’ve been careful not to linger. After that night, after having him in my bed and knowing exactly what it cost me, the fissure inside that I used to manage has been cracked wide open and hasn’t stopped aching since.
Cooper’s bags are stacked by the front door, his guitar case leaning against the wall. Just looking at them makes my skin itch, like I’m wearing clothes two sizes too small.
Dad’s outside with Seth, loading up the car for the two-thousand-mile trek to LA, a big Riddick family road trip—national parks, museums in different states, quirky diners—and the label’s apartment waiting at the end of it.
I can’t watch the trunk fill with Cooper’s life, so I don’t.
Heading upstairs, his room hits me like a sucker punch.
Everything that made it his—gone. The chaotic piles of clothes, the half-drunk water bottles, the corkboard full of ticket stubs.
Erased. Packed up into boxes like he was never here at all.
His bed stripped bare, the mattress lonely. Exposed.
He’s at his nightstand when I walk inside, zipping the last pocket of his duffel. Glancing over his shoulder, he smiles, expression bright, carefree, like he’s going on a weekend trip, not ripping my heart out.
“Is my mom still crying?” he asks, laughing softly.
“Yeah. She and my mom are pretending they’re not.” I rub the back of my neck. “It’s a full-blown waterworks situation.”
“Jesus,” he mutters. “You’d think I was leaving forever.”
I don’t say anything. It feels exactly like that.
Leaning against the doorframe, I cross my arms, trying to seem casual. “You all set?”
He takes one last look around his now-bare room and shrugs. “I think so. I mean, I will be back eventually. Anything I missed, I’ll just grab it then.”
“Right,” I croak, watching him sling his bag over his shoulder and head for the hall, leaving without a second glance.
“Oh, shit. Forgot something.”
He spins, nearly ploughing into me, nudging me back into his room. His bag thuds to the floor, and then his mouth is on mine. Hard, fast, consuming. The kiss swallows my breath and breaks a groan loose from my chest.
“I’m gonna miss you so fucking much,” he murmurs, lips still brushing mine. “You better text me every day.”
“I will,” I whisper, anchoring my arms around his waist, trying to memorize the weight of him.
“I want constant updates on your life.” He kisses my jaw, my ear, heat trailing down my neck where he touches.
“Mm-hmm,” I manage, not wanting to talk.
Just kiss me.
Just don’t go.
He pulls back slightly, lips pink and kiss bitten. “I’m serious, Declan. LA’s not that far. I’ll fly you out to visit if I have to. We’ll tour the city, sneak into some label parties…”
“Yeah,” I say, the lie bitter on my tongue. “Sounds good.”
He grins, but it’s wobbly. “I’ll text you nonstop. You won’t even get a chance to miss me.”
I already miss you.
I stare at him, tracing every line of his face.
His beautiful silver-blue irises, a faded scar above his eyebrow, the freckles that have started to fade across his nose.
I cup his jaw, fingers slipping into his hair, and kiss him again, long and slow, pouring everything I can’t say into the space between us.
Please don’t go.
I’m proud of you.
I am so irrevocably in love with you that I want you to stay.
Stay.
My lips trail along his cheeks, his brow, his nose. Resting my forehead on his, I’m not ready to let go. I want to freeze time. Bottle this moment. Keep it for every night I’ll have to fall asleep knowing he’s not two doors down.
A car horn blares outside, short and impatient.
“I should go.” Cooper sighs, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. “Dad’s honking.”
We don’t part until another shrill blast comes.
We step out, the door clicking shut behind us as Holly locks up, the sound slamming through me like a gunshot.
Outside, Mom and Dad hug Cooper tight, tears shimmering in Mom’s eyes as she kisses his cheek.
He wells up too, and I just stand on the porch, nails digging crescents into my palms, teeth clenched to keep everything from spilling out.
I never cry. But today, I might.
Seth calls from the driver’s seat, urging Cooper to hurry.
He heads toward the car, hand on the back passenger door when he stops, turns, and bolts back up the path.
He crashes into me, arms crushing around my ribs, burying his face in my neck like he can’t breathe without me.
I wrap myself around him, holding tight, not caring who sees, not caring how much it fucking hurts.
He’s everything.
He’s always been everything.
He sniffles, the warmth of his tears soaking through my hoodie. Pulling away, furious with himself, he swipes at his cheeks. I grab him once more, unwilling to lose the warmth, the weight, the scent of him. Not yet.
“Oh, wait—” I say, digging into my pocket. “I almost forgot.”
I hand him a small silver guitar pick, hanging on a chain, the letters ‘RC’ etched in the middle.
“What’s this?” Cooper asks, blinking at it.
My throat sticks. “Just something I had made. Nothing special, but...I wanted you to have something…”
His lips tremble as he runs his thumb over the engraving.
“Reign Cooper,” he whispers through a watery laugh. “You’re such a sap, Dec.”
“Guess so.”
Opening the clasp, he holds it out, waiting for me to put it on him. I clip it around his neck, my fingers lingering for just a fraction longer. He presses his hand to it once it settles against his skin.
“I’ll never take it off.” He’s grabbing me again, tighter than before, voice thick as he whispers, “Thank you. For everything. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“That’s bullshit. You’ve always been fearless, Coop. You would’ve made it without me.”
He shakes his head, tears lining his eyes. “I love you, Dec.”
There it is. The dagger to my heart. He says it so easily, platonic, like it’s not the one thing I’ve been dying to say back in the way I mean it.
“Me too,” I manage quietly. Broken.
Dad rests a hand on my shoulder. “He’s gotta go, son.”
Cooper shuffles backward, one step, two, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’ll call you when I get to LA, okay?”
“You better.”
He opens the car door, hesitating again.
“Tell Simone goodbye for me. And don’t hire anyone better than me for Fridays.” Sliding into the back seat, he rolls down the window, sticking out his head as the engine rumbles to life. “And tell Jerry I’ll send him a copy of my first demo. And don’t forget to keep me updated on your PT.”
The car begins to roll down the driveway, but he keeps craning his neck to shout.
“I mean it, Dec. Text me every day.” He grins, hair blowing in the wind.
And then, he’s gone.
I don’t move. Can’t.
Mom sniffles behind me, Dad mutters something, but I don’t hear a thing. I just stand there, numb, hollowed out. Eventually, they head inside, their footsteps fading, the front door creaking shut.
I stay. Alone on the porch. Staring down the road where he vanished. My arms ache where I held him, but my chest aches more.
He’s gone.
And he took my heart with him.