Chapter 38
DEVLIN
The cold hit Devlin like an icy hammer as he walked out of the clinic. He struggled to breathe, his entire body breaking into shivers. Back on that frozen peak, he’d been exposed to the elements, surrounded by snow and ice, but it hadn’t felt this bitter. It wasn’t just the temperature that made the difference — it was Darcy, her presence a warmth. And it was Claudia — her presence brought nothing but bitterness.
It was a ridiculous idea to hold a press conference outside — the gardens were the only space in the clinic big enough for the sheer number of people who had turned up — but at least he had an excuse to make it quick.
Claudia walked out beside him, sliding her arm through his, and as soon as they left the building the cluster of reporters went wild. Questions flew through the air like arrows and Devlin put his head down, making his way to the empty chairs. There was a scrap of colourful card on one, fluttering in the breeze. It almost flew away, but he snatched it up and held it on his lap as he sat down, no time to look at it, as the doctor had walked to his side and was waving at the crowd to be seated.
“Thank you, thank you,” said the man. “Mr Storm has kindly agreed to a brief press conference focusing on his time in the mountains, and his recovery. He is a strong, determined patient, but I would like to remind you that he is a patient. He was incredibly poorly, and is still convalescing, so I ask you to be respectful.”
The pack of reporters settled down, but there was still an electricity in the air that Devlin could feel on his skin. He shuddered, but it was more to do with the fact that Claudia had taken his hand in hers. He glanced at her and saw her smiling at him, but there wasn’t a shred of warmth or compassion there.
“Be good, Devlin,” she said.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, holding on to the scrap of paper without really thinking about it. “I told you. You win.”
“Mr Storm,” came a voice from the crowd, a young, female reporter bundled up in fake furs. Devlin recognised the dress she was wearing beneath her coat as one of his. “I’m glad to see you alive and well, we all are. Welcome back.”
The crowd applauded, and despite everything, Devlin managed a smile. Maybe Darcy had been right. Maybe people did love him, despite his awful behaviour.
“May I start by asking a question?” the reporter went on.
“Mr Storm has prepared a brief statement,” said the doctor, but Devlin held up a hand.
“I’m happy to take questions,” he said. “Go ahead.”
“I think what we’d all like to know first and foremost is what happened in the mountains to make you realise you wanted to be back with Claudia Romano.”
Devlin opened his mouth to reply, but he had no idea what to say. The urge to stand up and walk away was overwhelming, but he resisted it. The old Devlin would have upped and gone without a single care in the world about who he might have hurt. But Darcy had taught him a great deal in the mountains. She had shown such integrity, and honour. He stood his ground, gritting his teeth.
“I . . . uh . . .” He swallowed hard. If he denied Claudia’s rumour, then she would take him down. If he agreed to it, then he would lose Darcy for ever. Claudia squeezed his hand, more of a warning than an attempt at reassurance. “It did get a bit hairy out there on the mountain. So can I just start by saying that I’m glad to be back. Thank you all for being here.”
He cleared his throat, still trying to work out what to say. What would the old Devlin do now?
“I knew it would be okay,” he said. “And I had a reason to come back.”
Devlin glanced at Claudia, her smug smile making him feel sick. All he had to do was agree with her story, tell the reporters that he still loved her. Then he could get out of here and get on with his life.
His sad, lonely, emotionless life.
“I had a reason to come back,” he said again, faltering.
He looked down to collect his thoughts, and that’s when he noticed the card in his hand. The edges were slightly crumpled from where he had been gripping it without realising. His eyes fell on the red hearts and the queen’s crown and around the edge were small, neat letters — just six simple words.
I’m not afraid of adventures anymore .
A jolt of electricity flowed through him as he understood who had left it. He scanned the crowd, searching for Darcy, but there was no sign of her. She had already disappeared into the sea of faces.
He glanced down at the note again, reading those six words, knowing instantly what she was telling him. And if Darcy wasn’t afraid any more, then why should he be? He folded the paper up, sliding it into the pocket of his suit jacket. He felt lighter, freer. As if he had crawled back beneath the blanket in the cabin where they had spent their first night together, the fire roaring. The chill he’d felt since waking began to melt from his bones, his body thawing.
He sat up straighter, his heart steady, and the bitterness of the cold faded. He was ready.
“Let me tell you all a story,” he said, his voice louder than before, full of the strength that Darcy had given him. “Let me tell you a story about a man called Devlin Storm.”
The reporter nodded, everyone in the crowd pointing their cameras and cell phones at him. Claudia clutched his hand even harder, her nails digging into his skin.
“This man, he isn’t the man you think he is. He has a reputation for arrogance, for selfishness, for causing trouble. And he deserves that reputation, sure.”
“Devlin,” said Claudia with a beaming smile. “They were asking about me and you.”
“I’m getting to that,” Devlin said. “But I need to say this first. That man . . . He’s a lie.”
Small gasps rose from the crowd.
“What are you doing?” Claudia hissed.
“I’m not this arrogant, impulsive man I’ve made myself out to be,” he went on, ignoring her. “I became him because it was easier being alone where no one could sell my stories to the highest bidder.” Devlin glanced at Claudia before continuing. “But in doing that, I forgot how to trust people, I forgot how to let people in. And I forgot how to love.”
“But now you’ve remembered,” said Claudia, her voice full of desperation. “You’ve remembered that you love me. Coming so close to death in the mountains, it was inevitable really.”
“Claudia is right,” Devlin said, and he felt her hand relax a little. “Coming so close to death in the mountains did make me remember something. It made me remember the man I used to be, made me remember the things that I used to find important. I . . .”
He had to pause, feeling overwhelmed. He searched the crowd again for Darcy, but there were just too many people.
“I went into the mountains to scatter my mum’s ashes,” he said, taking a breath. “Many of you will know she died a few weeks ago, and she wanted to be laid to rest there. I kept that part quiet because it’s private, but also, to the world, I was this unfeeling giant of fashion and it didn’t fit the picture you all had of me.”
The formal garden was perfectly quiet, everybody waiting to see what he was going to say next.
“And Claudia was right about something else,” he said. “Being out there, nearly dying, I did fall in love again.”
He pulled his hand away quickly, before Claudia could react.
“Just not with her.”