Page 104 of Fight for Me
Declan shrugs. “I’m good.”
I groan and let my head fall back. “Our son is going to have your stubbornness, and I’m going to want to strangle myself.”
“Yes, because you’re the most accommodating person ever.”
“You’re the one who won’t leave.”
“Because I love you, and I’m not going until we figure our shit out.”
He said that yesterday, and my response was to force myself to go to sleep to avoid this exact topic. I don’t want to have it out. I want to go home and ignore him.
However, I know that isn’t going to happen.
It’s also the coward’s way out, and I’m not a coward.
“You made your choice.”
“I told you what happened,” he replies. “I know you don’t forgive me, and honestly, you shouldn’t, but I’m going to make it up to you.”
I breathe heavily and try to slow my racing heart. He has no idea how much I want this to all be true. But I think his promise is coming from a place of fear, and once I’m out of the hospital, he will take it all back and leave again.
“You don’t have to do this.” My voice is soft and strained.
“Do what?”
I open my eyes and let him see the truth there. “You don’t have to stay here out of obligation.”
He flinches and moves closer, eyes never leaving mine. “Is that what you think? That I’m here because I feel obligated to be?” His voice is low. “Because that’s the furthest thing from the truth.”
My pulse is rapid because he’s close enough for me to smell his cologne. “I don’t know what the truth is.”
“Are you ready to have this discussion? Because I am trying not to push you and let you recover without adding to your stress.”
I wish that were possible, but my stress levels aren’t going down without this discussion. If anything, I can’t seem to think about anything else. Why is he here? What does he want? When will he leave? And how the hell will I endure all of this?
But those answers can’t come from me.
“I think we have to.”
Declan crouches so his face is right in front of mine. “I was coming for you, Sydney. I was late, I know I was, and I’m so, so sorry, but I’m here now.”
“For how long, Dec?”
“Forever.”
I sit, staring at him, waiting for him to laugh or smile or something, but he doesn’t.
“Forever?” I ask. Maybe I heard him wrong. Maybe there is some weird side effect from the coma that is making me hear things that aren’t real.
“I’m not leaving. I’m not going back to New York City, not unless you’re with me, and if I have to stay in Sugarloaf or wherever you go, I’ll do that. You see, I lived eight years without you in my life. I existed by thinking that you were happy, better off without me, and I can’t exist that way anymore.”
“You can’t?”
“No.” His hand lifts and his palm settles on my cheek. “No, I can’t.”
I try to force myself to swallow and then pull in a deep breath. “You say this now, but why?”
“Do you know why I didn’t make it to the appointment? What it was that Ihadto do in the city?”
