Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
DECLAN
Snow falls in lazy spirals outside my D.C.
townhouse, each flake glowing briefly under the street lamps before vanishing into the white-dusted street.
The row of brownstones across from mine look like it belongs on a Christmas card — garland looped over railings, candles flickering in windows, wreaths fat with ribbon and pine cones.
My place is the only one dark. Bare. A black hole in the middle of all that cheer.
The sound of voices drifts up from the sidewalk — neighbors stumbling home from a party, flushed with wine, laughing too loudly and humming bits of carols as if they can’t hold all the happiness inside them.
It’s a reminder of what this time of year is supposed to represent. Togetherness. Celebration. Family.
Not for me.
I pour another glass of bourbon, the ice clinking in the silence.
I’d invited Joshua to fly out for the holidays, but he claimed he had too much going on at work.
I told him I understood, and I do. It’s not the first Christmas I’ve spent alone.
Hell, nearly every Christmas of my adult life has looked just like this — dark room, half-filled glass, silence for company.
I’ve always insisted I prefer it this way. That it’s easier. Cleaner.
So why does the silence feel unbearable tonight?
Because I met someone who saw who I really am. Someone who slipped past every wall I built.
And what did I do? I shoved her away. Like the coward I am.
But what choice did I have? Claire is Joshua’s friend. Hell, they were more than that once. That’s reason enough. Isn’t it?
Or is that just an excuse I’ve clung to because the truth is worse?
Joshua is reasonable, like Claire insisted. If we explained everything, if we told him how it happened, he’d understand with time.
It wasn’t about Joshua. It’s never been about Joshua.
I’ve spent years convinced I don’t deserve good things. That I destroy whatever I touch, as my father loved to remind me every chance he got. It’s probably why I pursued something with Claire. I didn’t think there could be a future with her because of her relationship with Joshua. She was…safe.
Until she insisted she was willing to fight for me.
But I wasn’t willing to fight for her.
The sound of the doorbell echoes through the quiet house, jolting me from my thoughts. I nearly ignore it, but something in my gut tells me to answer it.
Setting my glass on the coffee table, I cross the hardwood floor and check the peephole. Snowflakes blur the edges of the figure standing there, but I recognize the stance instantly. Because it mirrors my own.
I swing the door open. “Joshua… What are—”
The punch comes fast, a sharp crack against my jaw. My head snaps to the side, the sting flaring hot before settling into a dull throb.
I rub my cheek, stunned. “What the hell was that for?”
His eyes blaze, his breath visible in the frigid air. “For Claire.”
I stare at him for several long moments before pushing out a long exhale. I should have known this was coming.
“She told you about us.”
“She didn’t have to. I figured it out a while ago.”
“You did?”
Joshua’s mouth twists, part anger, part disbelief. “Pretty sure the entire damn town did.”
“I—” I stammer, trying to come up with something to say in my defense.
I’m a lawyer, for crying out loud. I’ve made a career out of being persuasive.
With my own son I’m drawing a blank. Probably because deep down I know I made a mistake.
Regardless, this isn’t a conversation for the front porch.
“Why don’t you come in?”
He steps inside, snow still clinging to his coat. I take it from him, draping it over a nearby couch.
“Did you fly all the way out here just to punch me?” I grab an ice pack from the fridge and press it against the side of my face before returning to the living room. “If you did, I get it. I deserve it. We met in Boston and—”
He holds up a hand, cutting me off. “I know. Claire told me everything.”
The shame presses heavy on my chest, and I drop my gaze to the floor. “I know it was wrong. I never should have… I just… I’m really sorry.”
“I also didn’t fly all this way out here for an apology. I understand why you didn’t tell me. Why you both kept it quiet.”
I lower the ice pack, tossing it on the coffee table. “Then why—”
“I came here to tell you what a fucking idiot you are.”
I blink, taken aback by his tone. Up until now, he’s always been even tempered. Calm.
Not now.
“Women like Claire don’t come around often,” he continues, his tone hardening once more. “And you… You just let her go?”
“I didn’t let her go.” My voice rises, defensive. “I realized it went too far. That it would never work.”
“Because of me?”
“I—”
“You’re both adults. At least Claire is,” he snaps, widening his stance. “When I said she told me everything, I meant everything. How she wanted more. How you refused to give it to her.”
“Because she deserves more than I can give her!” The words roar out of me before I can stop them.
My throat burns, my hands trembling as I drag them through my hair.
“She deserves so much more than me. That’s how much I care about her.
How much I—” My voice cracks, the rest of my statement lodged in my chest.
Joshua tilts his head, his eyes sharp as they study me. “How much you love her?”
The word lands like a boulder in my throat.
Love.
I want to deny it, insist I haven’t known Claire long enough to even think about loving her. I hang my head and sink onto the couch.
“I don’t know if it’s love. I’m not sure if I know what love is anymore. Or how to love anyone the way she deserves. That’s why I left. I had to.”
Joshua sits beside me, silence stretching between us. The only sounds are the faint hum of the radiator and the muted carols drifting from a neighbor’s speakers.
“She told me about your father,” he says after several protracted moments. “How he made you feel. How he blamed you for your mother’s death.”
I close my eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
He waves it off. “It’s not exactly a heartwarming story. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t want to bring it up. Wouldn’t want to relive it.” He leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “But I’ve also seen firsthand how that shit can stay with you. Take Claire, for instance.”
“Claire?” My heart races at just the sound of her name.
He nods. “Her father walked out. Left her mother when she was pregnant with her. For the longest time, she blamed herself.”
I nod, remembering her mentioning as much after I told her about my own father.
“She’s gone all her life never asking anyone for more because she’s worried about losing them,” Joshua explains.
“She’s always put everyone else’s needs before her own because she’s worried if she doesn’t, they’ll leave her like her father did.
So, the fact that she overcame her fear and asked you for more, put her heart on the line for you?
That’s huge. And you, the man who claims to care about her, you ran. Because you’re a fucking coward.”
The truth detonates inside me. My breath comes ragged, my face heating. I knew her father left. But I never realized how deep it went.
Claire, who has spent her whole life terrified of being left, offered me her heart. Overcame her fears for me. And I left her anyway. Just like her father.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
“I’m not going to sit here and tell you I can understand your thought process. I was raised by an amazing woman who made me feel loved every single day. I don’t know what it’s like to grow up with someone who made you feel worthless. But I do know this…” He looks at me, unflinching.
“You’re not that man. I’ve seen who you are these past weeks. You stayed in Sycamore Falls just so I wouldn’t have to spend my first Christmas without my mom alone. Whether you want to admit it or not, that’s what love is.”
The words strike deeper than a punch. My chest feels tight. Too tight.
I didn’t think I was capable of love. Didn’t think I was deserving of being loved.
But if Claire’s willing to overcome her fear, can’t I do the same?
“So fuck what your father made you believe,” Joshua continues. “Stop letting him control your life. If you want Claire, go after her. Prove you’re different. That you’re not the man your father made you think you are. But if you hurt her again?” His mouth hardens. “I’ll make sure you regret it.”
A small chuckle falls from my throat as I look upon my son with something that feels an awful lot like pride.
“I hope your mother realized what an amazing young man she raised before she passed.”
“She knew.”
I peer into his eyes, seeing pieces of myself in him. A part of me wonders how he would have turned out if things had been different. If I’d given his mother my number and she’d reached out about the pregnancy. I can’t help but think he was better off without me. Or is that just my father speaking?
“What the hell do I do?” I rake a hand through my hair. “I was awful to her.”
“Grovel,” he answers without hesitation. “And when you think you’ve groveled enough?” His grin sharpens. “Grovel more.”
I lean back against the couch, the weight of his words settling in. For the first time since I watched Claire walk away, something sparks in my chest. Not certainty, but possibility.
Claire may slam the door in my face, and I wouldn’t blame her.
But she took a risk on me.
It’s my turn to take a risk on her.