Chapter 37 - Allie
ALLIE
I watch as his little legs kick the swaddling blanket off his chest, and then he yawns, his little nose scrunching up.
Babies have always been the last thing on my mind.
My mom got knocked up when she was a teenager, and as much as I enjoy sex, I vowed to never end up in that situation before I was ready.
Which as far as I was concerned would be never.
I started taking birth control pills when I was sixteen and never had sex without a condom until Ashton.
But looking down at the precious life in front of me has me wondering if being a mother will ever be in the cards for me. If you had asked me a couple of weeks ago, I might have had even the faintest glimmer of hope. But now? I’ll just have to live with being the super cool aunt.
Emory returns to the nursery she and Luke set up in their cottage.
“Thanks,” she says, picking up Rowan and laying down his swaddle so she can redo it. “I’ve had to pee for the last hour.”
Luke is out getting all the essentials they were supposed to get right before the baby came.
Since Em ended up being almost two weeks early, they weren’t as prepared as they thought they would be.
She called me to come over so she could go to the bathroom, and I didn’t mind in the slightest. I’ll take all the baby-induced serotonin I can get these days.
Rowan is three days old today, which means it’s been exactly three days since I last spoke to Ashton.
He came in to meet the baby but only stayed long enough to extend his congratulations.
He hasn’t called or texted. He hasn’t shown up to sleep on my porch.
I remind myself this is what I wanted. I told him to give up.
If he kept showing up, he would eventually wear me down and I would listen to what he had to say.
His excuses might sound reasonable, and I might give him a second chance.
He stole my cold, dead heart and brought it back to life, after all.
Who’s to say he couldn’t do it again? As my mom said, second chances are tricky.
I still haven’t even decided if I’m giving my father one.
I look over at Emory, who is now standing by the window, gently swaying Rowan in her arms, singing a soft lullaby.
My best friend is such a natural at this, and I know Luke is going to be an amazing father.
They’ve been through so much together, and they both deserve this.
Emory looks through the curtain, her eyebrows knitting together.
“Isn’t that Declan?” she asks.
I walk over to see what she’s looking at. Sure enough, Declan Astor is currently walking up my front steps.
That can’t be good.
I sigh. “Let me see what he wants,” I tell her.
“Good luck,” she calls.
I walk up my front steps, making sure to stomp so he hears me coming.
“Allie Montgomery.” His teeth scrape over his bottom lip, snagging on his lip ring. He’s always playing with that damn thing.
“I’m not in the mood, Astor. What the fuck do you want?”
“Shit, sweetheart,” he holds his hands up. “We all know you have claws. No need to bust them out every time.”
Crossing my arms, I narrow my eyes at him. “Do you have a point in being here? Let me guess, Ashton came crying to you that I broke his heart and now you’re here to make good on your threat?”
Ignoring my question, he nods toward the door, “Can I come in?”
“Whatever,” I sneer, sticking my key in the lock. “You have five minutes.”
He walks into my house like he owns it, touching things as he passes by.
“Stop touching my shit,” I growl.
“Sick shirt,” he says nodding to the faded Propagandhi tee I’m wearing. His eyes stray to my clothes hamper currently overflowing with various other band t-shirts.
“Thanks” I step around him so I can make sure there are no unmentionables on the top of the basket.
He lowers his eyes. “Unless you’re one of those chicks who wear oversized band tees because they make you look edgy, but you’ve never even heard the music.”
“Anti-Manifesto, Failed Imagineer, Victory Lap,” I state, naming three of their songs. “Now can we move on to why the fuck you’re in my house?”
“Okay, so you know their most popular—”
“Declan!” I growl.
He chuckles. “Always so testy.”
“I swear to God—”
“Okay, okay,” he says, putting his hands up again. “You should know that Ash has no idea I’m here and would probably try to beat my ass if he found out.”
“Make sure you let me know when that happens so I can watch.”
“Damn,” he whistles. “I can see why he’s so fucked up over you. I said try, sweetheart. That little bitch’s right hook is weak as—”
“Can you just get to the fucking point?”
“Ash talked to your dad.” He says it so casually. Just lazily flicking his finger to detonate a bomb.
“What? When…”
“Not at first. He had his family’s PI find him a while ago, and he tried to tell you, but then you ghosted his ass, so he eventually gave up.”
“Yes, I know all this. He didn’t tell me for a fucking year until it accidentally slipped out.”
Declan rocks back on his heels, and when I look him in the eye, I just know there’s some sort of dick joke he wants to make, but he somehow manages to control himself.
“What you don’t know is that when you came back into his life, he contacted your dad. He wanted to make sure it was really him before he gave you the info.”
“When?” I ask.
“Right after the New Year’s Eve party. The fake one.”
I press my lips into a thin line, resting my hand on the entryway table. “Continue.”
“Your dad said he didn’t want to see you.”
Leave it to Declan not to sugarcoat anything.
“He didn’t—”
“Want to see you,” Declan finishes for me. “Some shit about having a new family and wanting to leave the past in the past. Anyway, Ash was protecting you. He didn’t want you to get hurt.”
I scoff. “That’s ironic.”
“Look, believe me or not. That's the truth.”
“Why are you trying to get me to forgive him? A few months ago, you wanted me to leave him alone.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Shit changed.”
“Like what?”
“Doesn’t matter. Look, that man’s my brother. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.” He shuffles his feet. “Almost nothing.”
Those last two words are whispered so quietly, I barely hear them. I can’t help but study him, my curious gaze falling over his dark roots. Why does he dye his hair? It’s obvious he’s hiding from something. Or someone…
“What did you do?” The whispered words come out before I can stop them.
Declan’s eyes darken, his fist clenching.
He takes a step toward me, placing his hand on the side of the wall next to my face.
“I fucked up, and I’m going to pay for it for the rest of my life.
And you know what? I fucking deserve it.
But Ash? He doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body.
He doesn’t deserve to lose the woman he loves over this bullshit. ”
My thoughts stray to Skylar, but I shake them off. I have enough of a mess on my own hands to get involved in theirs.
He pushes off the wall and I release the breath I was holding. “You don’t get to decide that, Declan.”
He lets out a humorless laugh. “No, I don’t. It’s your choice. Forgive him or lose the man who worships you. I did my part. The rest is up to you.”
He walks away from me but turns his head. “Oh, and he quit his job at the newspaper to go back to work for his dad. There’s only one reason he would do that. He fucking hates working for his old man.”
Wait, what?
Does he mean he did that for me? But why?
Then it hits me. His dad helped me. Helped my mom…
Before I can ask Declan about it, he swings open the door but stops dead in his tracks, causing me to slam into his back.
“Oh, shit,” he chuckles.
I move around him and open the door wider to see what he’s looking at. Standing in front of me is a tall man with dark wavy hair and black glasses. He looks to be in his early forties, and his eyes are the color of the ocean.
The same color as mine.