Page 148 of A Convenient Secret
They show us to a room and help Zach settle in the bed. Zoya hangs from the edge, on her belly, examining his cast, her legs dangling.
“A word,” Declan says, not even looking at me. “We’ll be right back,” he tells the kids.
Stepping outside, I place my foot on the floor gingerly as if it could explode at any moment.
“The jet is ready to leave at ten tomorrow. Just take it.”
It takes me a second to process what he means.
The jet?
Declan puts his hands into his pockets, his voice clipped, professional—like he’s giving instructions to a business associate. “Just say goodbye to the kids before you go.”
I stare at him, waiting for something.
A flicker of hesitation.
A crack in his armor.
A sign that he doesn’t want me to leave.
But there’s nothing.
He doesn’t even look at me.
“Declan.”
“What do you want me to say? You need to go and be with your father. I need to be with my son. With both my kids who went through a fucked-up, unnecessary experience today.”
“What about us?” My voice cracks. Somewhere in the background of my tired mind, I recognize this is just the circumstances and his rage talking.
But his icy demeanor hurts. The mask is up. The wall is erected. The armor is fully in place. There is no space for more variables in his life.
He needs control, and I wreaked chaos on his carefully planned life. And to his credit, he tried to adjust.
“I need to talk to Zach’s doctor. Go say goodbye to the kids.” He turns and leaves me there standing, my heart shattered.
There is no point in trying to stop him. He’s made up his mind. At least, in the current state of said mind.
But I need to see my father before it’s too late, so I take a deep breath and return to the room.
I sit on the bed, patting Zach’s leg. “Are you in pain?”
“Not much,” he says bravely.
“Whewe is Daddy?” Zoya looks over her shoulder at the door.
Poor babies, they had quite a scare. Suddenly, one emotion overpowers the numb feeling of loss and heartbreak, and I get so angry at the reporters, I have to stand up and walk to the window to breathe through the outrage.
“He went to talk to the doctor, to see when we can go home.”
Home. I hope it still is my home.
Returning to the bed, my barely found composure cracks a little when I glimpse the bodyguard through the glass pane in the door. I didn’t even notice him earlier, but of course he’s here. He’ll become a permanent fixture to protect this family.
All because of me.
“I need to tell you something.” My voice quivers.
