26. Lily
Lily
T he warmth of the sun bathes my face as I step down the concrete stairs of the courthouse.
There’s not even the slightest breeze marring the day, the sky above me cloudless, a vibrant blue that blazes down so brightly my eyes water.
The beauty of it feels symbolic, a reassurance; the universe whispering to me that I did the right thing, even when there’s a swell of sadness in my chest.
At my side, my lawyer, Laurie, readjusts her hold on her leather case, watching me with a small smile.
“No regrets, then? Because there’s no return policy on what happened today.”
“No regrets,” I murmur, meeting her dark eyes. “Not yet.” I turn fully, holding my hand out for her to shake. “Thank you for your help.”
“No sweat,” she returns, her grip firm. “It was pretty simple when the defendant provides all the evidence and doesn’t contest a thing. My next case won’t be so easy. A messy divorce with two kids. But whatever pays the bills, am I right?”
I give her a tight smile, not sure what to make of that. “Right.”
“Well, you have my card if you ever need my services again.”
Before I can reassure her I won’t, she’s striding away. I shake my head, letting out a heavy breath. Dad and Julie had asked if I wanted a ride, but knowing I’d need time alone to decompress, I’d declined. Now, I just feel a little lost, wishing I’d taken them up on the offer.
A throat clears behind me and a smile tries to pick up the corners of my mouth, but I bite it back, slowly turning to face Declan.
He’s unbuttoned his suit jacket, his tie already missing and the buttons at his throat undone, giving me another teasing glimpse of the silver chain still hiding under his shirt collar. He tucks his hands into his slacks, the dark material pulling tight across his thighs.
Not that I notice.
“Hey,” he rumbles, an edge to his voice that seems almost nervous.
“I wasn’t sure if I should come over, but I saw you standing here, and I wanted to introduce myself.
” My eyebrows lift high, but I don’t interrupt.
“It’s not exactly a meet-cute,” he says, looking over his shoulder at the courthouse with a wry smile.
“But I didn’t want to miss my chance at knowing you.
” He steps closer, pulling his right hand out of his pocket and holding it out to me.
I surreptitiously wipe my palm against my pants before tentatively placing it in his. His fingers close around mine tightly, but not enough to hurt. It fills me with the sense that he won’t let me go until he’s good and ready, and when his thumb strokes softly over my knuckles, my stomach swoops.
He’s looking at me expectantly and I realize with a flush that I haven’t said a word.
“You’re right,” I murmur, so quiet he has to lean forward to hear me.
I clear my throat, voice growing louder as I lean into his game.
“It’s not exactly an auspicious start. Why are you even here?
” I eye him with mock suspicion. “For all I know, you could be a dangerous criminal about to go away for twenty-five to life.”
His warm brown eyes are on me, looking like rich pools of chocolate, his expression soft with amusement. “If I was, would you write to me?”
I pretend to think about it. “What’s in it for me?” He steps closer, our arms tucked between our bodies when he doesn’t let me go.
“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” he says, low and intense.
We stand still, watching each other, frozen in this moment as the world continues to move around us.
My heart flutters rapidly in my chest, something registering that this moment is significant—a crossroads that might change everything.
I don’t know if I’m ready, not yet, but I don’t step away, either.
His lashes drop, hiding his eyes, but I see his shoulders rise sharply as he inhales deeply through his nose. I don’t dare to blink, not wanting to miss anything, and then he’s looking at me again, his smile small. Hopeful.
“Grab a coffee with me?”
I don’t let myself think, don’t let myself second-guess. I give a curt nod, and his eyes fill with relief, his smile widening.
“Thank you,” he whispers, his free hand lifting to touch my cheek.
And then he steps back, releasing his hold on me.
I take a shuddering breath, trying to ground myself when it feels like I might float away.
I shake my trembling fingers out, but they’re hot and tingling, every nerve-ending remembering what it’d felt like to have his skin against mine.
“There’s a little cafe,” he says quietly, as if he gets how uncertain I feel and doesn’t want to spook me. “It’s about a block from here, so we could walk.”
I nod again, feeling a bit like a bobble-head. We fall into step beside each other, his arm brushes against mine every so often, just reminding me that he’s there. It’s only a five-minute walk to the cafe, but neither of us speak, both lost to our own thoughts.
He opens the door for me, his hand settling on the small of my back as he ushers me inside. The heat sears me through the silk blouse and lingers long after he pulls his hand away.
We peruse the menu behind the counter, and he turns to me. “Hazelnut latte?”
“Please,” I murmur, a mere breath of sound.
He watches me before he tells me softly, “Go find us a table while I order.” I do as he says, watching as he chats with a server behind the counter.
He returns quickly, sliding into the seat across from me and sliding a plate over the table with a blueberry muffin on it.
“I wasn’t sure if you were hungry,” he says to my unasked question.
“Thank you.” I stare down at the muffin like the warm, crumbly treat might hold all the answers I need. I reach out, picking small pieces off and popping them in my mouth, but I don’t taste it, too aware of his eyes watching every movement.
The barista brings our coffee over with a smile, and I look up, watching as Declan lifts his to his mouth, his expression contemplative.
“I don’t just mean the muffin.”
He startles slightly, looking over me with a puzzled smile. “What?”
I smile, but it feels more like a grimace. “Sorry, I kind of forgot you weren’t in my head.” He waits me out, eyes on me as he takes another slow sip of his drink. “Thank you for today,” I clarify.
His expression goes blank, but a twitch to his mouth gives away his amusement. “You’re thanking me,” he says slowly, “for an annulment?”
“I was always taught to use my manners,” I retort smartly, before eyeing him seriously. “But seriously, Declan. I know this isn’t what you wanted.”
He leans back in his seat, looking out the window, so I pick up my drink, closing my eyes as the scent of hazelnut and coffee teases my nose.
“There’s a lot about this I didn’t want,” he says thoughtfully after a moment. “But giving you something you needed was never one of them.”
I’m not sure how to reply, because nothing about this is what I needed. “My dad told me about my mother yesterday,” I say instead. “Did you know?”
His eyes swing back to me, mouth pressed together thinly.
“Did I know my father is a cold-blooded”—he looks around, carefully lowering his voice to a hissed whisper—“murderer? No. Am I surprised?” A small huff escapes his nose.
“Also no.” He eyes me cautiously. “How do you feel about it all? I knew you’d find out, but I wasn’t sure whether Grant would tell you or someone else. I was worried.”
I roll my lips inward, considering. “I’m grieving, I think.
For something I lost, but never really had.
I’m trying to understand her, and what her life must’ve been like to drive her to make the choices she did.
” I shake my head, confessing, “And I’m angry.
So angry.” I sigh, my shoulders lifting on the breath.
“I’m furious with her, but I’m also mad at my dad for keeping it all from me.
I’m mad at your dad.” A pause. “I’m mad at you, too. ”
“I know,” he murmurs, leaning across the table, reaching for my hand.
I let him, my fingers limp in his hold. “I get it, Lily. It’s a lot.
I just want you to know that I’m learning from my mistakes.
Or I’m trying to.” He scrunches his nose up, looking almost childlike in his aggravation.
“I’m a flawed man, as my brother and sister like to point out.
They both let me know in no uncertain terms how much I’ve fucked up.
” He meets my eye, his expression grave. “They’re mad at me, too.”
I lift my eyebrows. “Why?”
He lets me go, and I stifle the urge to grab his hand back, busying myself with the muffin.
“Apparently, I have a slight tendency to be overprotective.” I mouth the word slight and he shoots me a grumpy look, repeating firmly, “Slight. However, in my need to protect those around me, I tend to shut them out, not giving them a chance to help.”
I frown. “I thought Darcy and Nolan knew about me, and about our relationship.”
He lifts one shoulder. “Only after overhearing me argue with Donald about it.” He finishes his coffee, setting the mug down.
“They didn’t know?—”
“About any of it. Not about Gloria or what Donald was doing at Nexus. They were aware he treated me differently to them, but they just put it down to him training me to take over for him, not that he was a remorseless monster.”
I wished that eased the sting in my chest, but even if they didn’t know from the start, they still knew in the end and it made them complicit in the lies. I eat another bite of muffin, carefully avoiding his eyes.
“Have you seen him? Donald?”
“No, not since they denied him bail.” He drops his chin.
“Mom wants me to go see him. She thinks that if we all just sat down and talked it out, everything would be fine. I think—” He cuts himself off, a scowl twisting his mouth.
“She either truly thinks he didn’t do it or she’s pretending like hell, even with all the evidence staring her right in the face. ”