56. Declan
Iwas antsy, and for good reason. While I’d never expected Brogan to call me to say he was letting bygones be bygones, I did think he might at least thank me for what I’d done.
My actions hadn’t been for gratitude, though.
He would know it. He’d also know that I wouldn’t want some polite platitude.
I wanted him. With his release from prison and all charges dismissed, I needed to make him understand not only why I’d done what I had, but that I was truly sorry for any pain it’d caused him.
He hadn’t called me at all, though. With every passing hour, it looked less likely that he would. As it were, I’d been waiting all day for news of his official release. Now, it was all I saw as I watched the news for the last couple of hours as they talked about his release.
Pharmaceutical CEO, Brogan Sinclair, exonerated as fiancée reappears in town.
It was a much better headline than the usual.
I hadn’t forgotten how those same press outlets had used him as clickbait for months.
When I saw photos of Brogan splashed across the screen today, it wasn't because they were trying to smear his name, but I still remembered that they’d never given a damn about him.
How many lives had they tried to ruin with their stories?
Now they were trying to be the first to act as if they’d believed in his innocence all along.
None of them believed in it. The only ones that ever had were Enslee and me.
We’d gone to look for Layla while the press, police, and everyone else had been gunning for him.
It made me sick to see them falling all over themselves to kiss his ass after they’d nearly ruined his life.
I was still scowling at the most recent news segment when my phone rang, and I realized it was Enslee.
“Hey, how is everything??
“I’m at Brogan’s,” she quickly said.
Her voice shook a little and it had me arching a brow. “Are you okay?”
“Y-yes,” she stammered in response.
“And Brogan?” I asked, then inwardly grimaced at my desperation. The truth was that I was hungry for any mention of him.
“He is… umm… He’s okay too.”
“Something sounds off. Are you sure everyone’s okay?”
“He isn’t here right now. He was, but we… ahh… we—”
“Did you have sex with him?”
I couldn’t believe I’d asked her such a thing. At her delayed silence, I knew the answer and a twinge of jealousy pierced the armor I’d been building around my chest. And the worst part was that I wasn’t sure who I was most jealous about.
“Please don't be mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad at you? We’re not committed to one another, and it’s not like you two haven’t had sex before.”
“True. I just don't want to make things worse between the two of you.”
“I think that ship’s already sailed, but it has nothing to do with you. Not before, and certainly not for anything you did or didn’t do tonight.”
“I don’t know what to say to make things right,” she finally lamented.
“I’d fucked everything up on my own. It's pretty much FUBAR.”
“FUBAR?” she asked.
“Fucked up beyond all repair.”
“I don’t believe that. Everything can be fixed. Just tonight, Brogan and Layla shared a nice moment together.”
“They did? It was probably just because she’d gotten him out of jail.”
“I don’t think that is all. Perhaps, he’s finally coming around. And if he is toward her, maybe he would be toward you too.”
“I doubt that. You said he isn’t there. Where is he?”
“I wish I could say that he’d gone to see you, but I think he's gone to see his father.”
“I loathe that man.”
“Me too. Layla told him about how Stanley had abused her over the years. After what you and Layla have said about his father, I don't know what kind of state he's going to be in when he returns.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine, but if you're that worried, leave before he gets back.”
“I can't leave before I make things right.”
“You’re not responsible for anything I’ve done, so it isn’t your job to fix anything. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“I may not have been the cause of it, but it still doesn't mean I can't help.”
“It's pointless. If Brogan wants to talk to me, he knows how to get in touch.”
“Like you, he also has a lot of pride.”
I raked a hand through my hair. I knew what she was trying to do, and I was about to just disconnect the call before I upset her, but I heard her start to sob.
“Enslee, are you sure you're okay?”
“I'm so worried. I really think you should come.”
“Come where?”
“To Brogan’s place.”
“That isn’t a good idea. The last time I was there, he’d told me that he never wanted to see me again.”
“Please. I need you. I don't know what headspace he’ll be in. He was really upset.”
“I’d like for you to leave. I’ll come and get you, but you need to get out of there. There’s a late-night coffee shop on the corner near—”
“I can't, but I need you. And who knows. When he sees you, he might remember that he needs you.”
“It’s not possible.”
“Do you not love him anymore?
I let out the breath I’d been holding and scowled. “I love him more than anything in this fucking world.”
“Then you need to tell him that. Please just come by. Brogan and I need you.”
“I don't think that’s a good idea.”
“Please. If it doesn't work, at least you tried and you’ll know for sure.”
This conversation was going nowhere because she refused to take no for an answer.
It reminded me of the night we’d first met her when she’d refused to leave without trying every angle she had.
I wanted to deny her, but what if she was right?
Maybe seeing one another in person after all this time apart would help.
Was it possible that he’d missed me as much as I’d missed him?
He was prideful, and he had just gotten out of jail.
I’d definitely not be his first priority.
I could also understand why he’d go after his father.
And she was right. Stanley had the ability to get under his skin, and knowing what his father had previously done to him, I was worried about what type of mood he’d be in too.
What if he gets back and dissociates again?
He’d been off his medicine for some time, and even if he’d taken it today, I doubted that it’d work that quickly. Enslee wasn't prepared to handle him in that state. And since she refused to leave, I basically had no choice.
“I’ll be there in half an hour.”
After a quick time check on my watch, I saw it was ten forty-five p.m..
There was no telling when Brogan had left, but I suspected he’d be at his father’s for a while longer.
If nothing else, maybe I could convince her in person to leave things as they were and go somewhere with me.
It wouldn’t even matter where, as long as she did not stay there.
I disconnected the call, then went ahead and got dressed.
It was the middle of December, and Christmas would be in less than two weeks.
I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d spent any holiday, especially the upcoming one, without Brogan.
Something told me this year would be a first, and as I swallowed down the bitter thought, bile rose in my throat.
I left my penthouse and drove through the city, taking in the festive decorations and lights scattered everywhere I looked.
Memories from last year came rushing back.
We’d grabbed some sandwiches from Katz’s, then sat near the tree at Rockefeller Center until the paparazzi had decided to harass us.
After, we’d escaped to my penthouse, then stretched out on the couch in front of the fireplace.
Usually that memory would warm me much like the night itself had, but now it only made me feel more chilled.
And the cold was one that seeped bone deep.
Shaking the thought away, I thought about other Christmases in this magical city.
Year after year, it came alive during this time of the season.
Unfortunately, Brogan had been so integral to my life that I couldn’t see anything without seeing him.
I tried clearing my mind so I’d be more level-headed once he got back home.
Thankfully, I’d decided to stay in Manhattan tonight instead of going to Staten Island, so just a few blocks separated one penthouse from the other.
After finding a space in guest parking, I chose the farthest one from the resident parking as I could.
My candy-apple red sports car would be too noticeable.
I doubted that he’d returned yet, so I needed to get upstairs.
I entered the lobby and gave a curt nod to the doorman before heading to the elevator.
There were two of them. The private one would take me straight to his penthouse, and the other one would just take me to his floor.
I decided to try the code. It worked, which meant he hadn’t thought to change it yet.
I stepped into his penthouse to find Enslee sitting alone at the center island.
Fully dressed, she was in a pair of jeans and oversized hoodie resembling the girl we’d met that first night.
Her jacket was nearby and draped over the back of the bar stool.
As I got closer, I saw her cell phone on the marble in front of her.
“Is he back yet?” I asked even though I knew the answer.
She turned, then smiled wearily at me and shook her head. “Not yet.”
I closed the distance between us and pulled her into my arms for a hug. “Regardless of what happens between Brogan and me, I want to thank you again for getting Layla to the detective. I'm sure it did both her and Brogan some good for her to explain what happened in her own words.”
“You should’ve seen him, Declan. I was so proud of him. He even hugged her at—”
Brogan hugging Layla? As that visual entered my head, I began to think maybe there was a possibility he might be able to forgive me. If so, this wouldn’t be a wasted trip after all.