She felt Declan stiffen beside her. “Am I supposed to be okay with you leaving?” he asked. He didn’t raise his voice, but she heard it grow colder. She hated the frigid anger she heard in his tone, but she didn’t blame him for being hurt and mad.
She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I can’t ask you to be okay with it, Declan. But I need to do this. And I need to know that you support me, even if you don’t understand it.” They lapsed into silence for a moment, both studying their entwined fingers. After a minute, Bree sat up and turned to face him more fully, his hand still in hers. Declan met her gaze.
She said, “Don't you see? I can't be here. Everyone and everything here is a reminder. Everywhere I look I see Zoe lying there, dead because I couldn't save her. I need a change.”
“Fine,” he said. “Let me pack a bag and I'll go with you.”
She shook her head, unable to meet his gaze. “I hate myself for feeling this way but you're a reminder too, Declan.” There were tears swimming in her eyes as she reached her hand out to touch his cheek. “I love you, but I can't be here. With you. Not right now. I just need some time.”
Declan’s mind was reeling. What was she saying? “Bree, you don't know what could happen. We're in the middle of a war and anyone could be gone in a second and you want to leave? If I'm supposed to be okay with that, you don't know me very well. Look at me.” Bree’s eyes came up to meet his. He said, “I love you and I need you. You promised me that no matter what happened, we'd face it together. I'm sorry I couldn't save her.” Now his eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry. You'll never know how much I hate myself for not being strong enough to save her.”
Bree quickly shook her head, “Declan, no. Don't do that. Do not blame yourself. Zoe’s death wasn’t your fault. She died because she knew me.” She shrugged. “That's all. Ephraim needed a way to get to me, and he chose her. I tried to save her and I failed. That's on me. I won't have you feeling guilty for that. Declan, please. Try to understand. I just need a change from this place for a while.”
“Then let me come with you,” he insisted again. “We're stronger together.”
Bree shook her head. “Conrad needs you here. There’s too much going on. Plus, you need to work more with Rowan and my mom.”
Declan shook his head, ready to argue the point further, but Bree cut him off.
“I just need some time,” she said again. “Just give me a few weeks to sort out my thoughts. Please. This isn't goodbye,” she insisted.
Although he could feel his heart breaking, he knew he had to let her go. If he convinced her to stay, she would only resent him. If he followed her, it would be the same. She felt like everything was out of her control. She'd said that to him only the night before as he’d held her after a nightmare. This was something she could control. He could let her have that, no matter what it cost him. He couldn't bring himself to hurt her. Hadn't he already been responsible for enough of her pain?
Declan pulled her into his arms, holding her close to him. Bree went willingly, laying her head on his chest, just above his heart. She fit so perfectly in his arms and he hoped this wouldn't be the last time he held her like this. When they’d joined this fight, he’d made a promise to stand by her, no matter what. If this was what she needed, he’d have to be okay with it. Even if it felt like he was being ripped apart.
“Okay,” he said. “I get it. I don't like it, but I see that this is something you need.” His hand came up to stroke her hair and he planted a soft kiss on top of her head. “Bree, so help me, if anything happens to you, I'm never going to forgive you.” His voice cracked on the words and he hated how weak he felt just then.
She turned her face up to his and gave him a small smile that reminded him of the old Bree. “The same thing applies to you,” she said. He lowered his head and rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closing tightly.
“Bree,” he whispered. “I can't do any of this without you. Don't do anything reckless. Promise me.”
She turned her face up and kissed him on the lips, her arms pulling him tighter against her for a moment. “I love you,” she said.
They held one another for several minutes, neither of them speaking before Bree pulled away. “It's time,” she said. “I have to go.” He put his hands on her face and leaned down to kiss her again.
“If you change your mind, call me and I'll be there in a heartbeat,” he said. Her hands came over his and she closed her eyes. She turned her head to the side and kissed his palm before sliding his hands from her face. She turned and walked quickly to the door, pausing after she opened it. As she stood in the open doorway, she looked back over her shoulder to where Declan still stood motionless.
“Be careful, Declan,” She said. “I love you.”
She left, closing the door behind her. Declan was left standing in the empty room. He didn't follow her up to the surface level to see her off. He didn't want their goodbye to be a public spectacle. When he was alone in the room, he felt an emptiness that he hadn't known since before she'd fallen into his arms in that bar. He sat on the couch and stared at nothing, feeling like his entire world had just fallen apart and there was no way to get it back. He replayed the last few minutes in his mind. It was only then that he realized she hadn't promised not to do something reckless.
End of Book 3
About the Author
As a kid, Mary always preferred books to people. They were much easier to relate to and they couldn’t sense her awkward shyness. She eventually outgrew the shyness, if not the awkwardness. To her own shock, she became a bit of an extrovert. She knows she talks too much, but she can’t seem to control it. She’s given up finding the filter that other people seem to have. Most days, she’d still rather read than deal with people, but she loves lively conversations and people who make her laugh.
Mom to three growing dudes and married to her high school sweetheart, Mary lives on the Gulf Coast of Alabama. She has a couple of fat lapdogs who think they’re guard dogs. (They aren’t.) Being married to a Navy veteran instilled in Mary a love for her country, the ocean, artful swearing, and good tattoos. She’s a serial crafter who will try just about any new craft from Origami to knitting. She recently became obsessed with foredge fresco, although she’s terrible at it.
A romantic at heart, she can find the love story in just about any piece of fiction and believes that almost any story can benefit from some mushy bits.
You can find more from Mary visiting her online on facebook.
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