"You drive me crazy —all day, every day. I can never get enough. You are my first thought when I awake and the last as I drift off to sleep. I can't imagine how I existed without you, Leah, and for once in my life, I don't want to be alone anymore. Don't ever leave me. Please."
"How can you leave your own soul, Declan?"
He kissed me then, an earth-shattering, love-defining kind of kiss that shocked my very core.
"Make love to me," I begged.
He stood, picked me up, and carried me in his arms, heading out the double glass doors onto the wide deck facing the ocean. It was dark, but we could still hear the waves crashing against the shore.
He placed me on a chaise lounge and laid his warm body on mine. Rising to his knees, he slid my panties down my hips and dropped them to the ground. Needing to feel all of him, I peeled away his boxers, loving the way the moonlight highlighted the toned muscles of his body.
"I love you," he said softly as our bodies became one.
"I love you," I answered back.
Then, he kissed me fiercely, claiming me with his body and heart.
We made love under the stars, loving each other's bodies for hours. Afterward, I lay in his arms, enjoying the sounds of the ocean and the beat of his heart.
"I'm going to sell my house," Declan said, breaking the silence.
"What? Why?" I asked, panicked, rising to face him.
"Because I'm moving. That's what people generally do when they move."
"You're moving? Where? When?"
Panic started to seep into every molecule. He was moving? Where? Why didn't he tell me?
"Leah, I'm moving to Virginia —permanently."
"What? How can you do that?"
"Does it matter? My life means nothing if you aren't in it."
Tears blurred my eyes, and I felt them falling down my cheek. Why did this man always make me cry? "But what about directing? Your career?"
"I'm figuring it out. I've got a couple of things lined up. One thing I do know is that they have these fancy inventions called planes, and I can fly here if I need to. Plenty of actors and directors live outside of L.A., and they do perfectly fine. I can, too."
"Oh my God, are you sure? You have to be sure...because I'm not giving you back," I said, unable to believe this was happening.
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
"Okay, but one thing..."
"Anything," he answered, chuckling.
"One, don't sell the house," I pleaded.
"Why?"
"It's too pretty. I seriously love this house. Let's keep it as a winter house or whatever the hell you want to call it. You'll need some place to stay when you fly in anyway. Just don't get rid of my view...I mean, the view."
He laughed but agreed. We spent the next hour making plans of when, how, and what he would move. I'd never lived with a boy before. That would be fun.
We made our way inside and started getting ready for bed even though it was bordering on morning now.
"Hey, can I borrow a sweatshirt? I'm freezing from being outside for so long."
"Yeah, second drawer."
He continued to talk about his moving plans as I rummaged around in his drawer, getting caught up in all of his old sweatshirts —college sweatshirts, team sweatshirts. He even had a Planet Hollywood sweatshirt, which I found adorable. I chose that one and pulled it from the bottom of the stack, making a mess. Stuff spilled out of the drawer, and I bent over to pick it all up.
Several photographs fell during my epic mess-making, and I gathered them up before stuffing them back into the drawer, but the one on top caught my eye as I was shutting the drawer. The face —I recognized it. I pulled the photo back out and stared at it.
She was beautiful with long light brown hair and bright eyes. She looked younger than when I'd seen her. But where did I recognize her from? And why would I recognize someone Declan had a photo of?
"Hey, Declan. Who's this?"
"Oh, that's Heather, my ex-girlfriend from college," he answered, joining me from across the room.
I stared at it a second longer as Declan watched me. I was sure he was worried that I was going to go all jealous girlfriend on him, but I couldn't figure out that face.
The photo was haunting, and I couldn't place where I'd seen that face before.
The photo...a memory started to surface at the edge of my mind.
The boy...the boy in the hospital...the photo he'd had in his hand...the one from the fair of him and his mother.
The mother that had died. It was her.
Heather was dead, and I needed to tell Declan.
An image of the boy's eyes flashed through my memory, and I suddenly felt sick. I remembered sitting with the boy, thinking his eyes looked so familiar.
I turned and looked into Declan's eyes —the eyes I'd stared into a million times, fallen in love with, and memorized, so I could dream of them when I slept.
Oh God, they were the same.
"How long ago did you break up?" I asked, feeling my hands begin to shake.
"Uh, hmmm...well, I was twenty-four, so about eight years ago, a little less maybe. Why?"
Just then, he saw my hands shaking and my panicked expression.
"Leah, what is it? You're freaking me out here."
"I think you have a son."
~Declan~
I would have thought it was some sort of joke, but Leah looked destroyed as the words tumbled out of her mouth.
"What are you saying? I don't understand," I asked, taking her shaking hands in mine, trying to make sense of the fright and panic in her eyes.
Her chest was heaving so hard, I thought she might hyperventilate. I pulled her into my arms and sat us on the bed as I stroked her hair while tears fell from her eyes.
She took a deep breath and began her story. "It was the night you came back into town. I was just getting off my shift at the hospital. Logan called me and said there had been a horrible accident, and the woman driving had died. Declan, it was her. It was Heather. I didn't know at the time, but I recognize her now from this picture."
I hadn't seen Heather in eight years, but hearing she was gone killed me. "How?" was all I could manage, my voice coming out rough and gravely.
"Trucker fell asleep at the wheel and veered off into oncoming traffic. Heather didn't have a chance. She tried to save them, but she ended up driving head-on into a tree."
"Them? It was more than just Heather?"
"Declan, she had a child with her —your child."
"I do not have a child. I would know," I said adamantly. "I haven't seen or heard from her in eight years. She would have told me, came to me, included me."