~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."
Leah looked at me with such sad eyes as she placed her hand gently on my cheek. "He had your eyes, Declan. He was seven, and he looked like you."
"No," I whispered. "No!" I shouted, rising from the bed, needing space.
"I'm so sorry, Declan. I'm so sorry."
I couldn't deal. I started throwing on clothes and shoes, not having any idea of what I was doing. I needed out. There was too much to process —Heather's death, a son. My mind shut down, and I ran. I tore down the stairs to the bottom level and out the sliding door to the beach where I kept running. I ran until my lungs burned, and my face was numb from the constant wind. When that wasn't far enough, I ran farther.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, I stopped. I looked around, but nothing looked familiar. I must have run for miles. I didn't even have a watch or cell phone on me to see how long I'd been gone. Leah must have freaked out with my psychotic departure. I owed her an apology, but I just needed out, and I needed a bit of time alone —time to grieve, time to wrap my head around my new reality.
Heather was gone. And I was possibly a father.
Saying both by themselves was difficult, but saying both together was nearly impossible. I hadn't been in love with Heather for a long time, and I'd lost my anger toward her several years ago. Even at twenty-four, we had been young. I'd wanted more, and she hadn't. I'd asked her for a new life together, and she hadn't been ready, so we'd gone our separate ways. It was one of the hardest parts of my life, but I'd gotten over it. Had it not happened, I would have never found Leah, and she was the life I wanted.
But knowing Heather's life was over hurt, and I didn't know how to grieve for someone I barely remembered —especially after learning she could have borne my child and never told me. Why would she do that? I had been nothing but caring, loving, and dedicated with her. I would have stayed with her, given that child everything I could, but I hadn't even been given a chance. Why?
I was a father. Was I? Leah had seemed to think so, but I needed to know for sure. If that child was mine, I needed to know.
Finding my way back to the house, I quietly entered the back door and made my way up the stairs from where I'd fled hours earlier. Leah was curled up on the couch facing the panoramic window that opened out to the ocean. She had fallen asleep after probably waiting up for me. I bent down, pulled her body into mine, and carried her upstairs to our bed.
She stirred as I laid her down. Her eyes fluttered open, and she immediately pulled me into a tight hug.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Declan." She sobbed into my shoulder.
"Shhh, it's okay. I'm sorry I scared you. I just needed to process everything, and I bolted. It was a jackass thing to leave you here."
"No, it's okay. I understand. Are you okay?"
"I don't know. I don't really know what to think right now. You said they were both in the accident? Was he injured?" I asked, realizing I'd naturally assumed he was okay until this moment.
"He was unharmed. He just had a few bumps and bruises from the seat belt."
I nodded before pulling her body against mine, needing the physical reminder of her love.
"What's his name?"
"Connor."
"Leah?"
"Yeah?"
"I need to find him."
~Leah~
We cut our trip a day short. Neither one of us felt like frolicking on the beach after the bomb I'd dropped the night before. Declan had let me sleep most of the day, and then we took a red-eye flight out of LAX, leaving in the dead of night with little notice. It was a good thing, too. When we arrived in Atlanta to catch our connecting flight, Declan grabbed us some coffees while I stopped at a store in the airport to pick up a magazine, and then I saw my own smiling face staring back at me.
We were everywhere. The news that Declan was in love had made the front page. Suddenly, the up-and-coming bachelor actor was the source for hot gossip again.
People magazine had us front and center with the caption, Declan James Finds Love in Virginia!
The photo showed us in our elegant evening wear, close together with our foreheads touching, as we shared a private moment —a private moment that was now everywhere. It was a beautiful picture —one that I would have normally loved to frame and display on the mantle of our fireplace, so we could see it every day as we cuddled on the couch, watching movies or eating take-out at the coffee table.
Our fireplace. Declan was moving in with me. We were going to live together.
Oh God, he was still moving in with me, wasn't he?
What if he had changed his mind? What if what I told him last night changed everything?
He hadn't said anything against it. But he hadn't mentioned it since either. I suddenly felt panicked over my future —a future that, not twenty-four hours ago, was secure and bright with so many possibilities. Now, I saw nothing but murky waters and uncertainties.
As much as I'd wanted to dispute that I could have been wrong, that the child could have been anyone's, I knew. Looking back, I remembered those eyes and the way I'd felt when sitting with Connor. He'd seemed so familiar, and I couldn't place it at the time. I had spent six months desperately trying to forget Declan, so it was no wonder I couldn't place the face at the time —not that it would have done any good. I didn't know Heather. I didn't know their history like I did now.
"Hey, are you ready? They just called our flight," Declan said, coming behind me as I paid for my purchase.
I nodded, and we made our way to the gate. Keeping our heads low and hats snug, I felt like a criminal trying to escape prison. But I also didn't want a scene, especially now. Declan was putting on a good face, but I knew he was a wreck inside.
He hadn't slept since I'd told him about Connor, and I was afraid if he didn't sleep soon, he would crack. He was tense and edgy. Besides travel arrangements and other superficial questions, he hadn't spoken. He was retreating into himself, and I didn't know how to help. I felt useless and guilty —guilty because I had been the cause of everything. Yes, he'd deserved to know, but I was still the one who had told him, the one who had completely altered his life.
We boarded the plane and found our seats. After stowing our bags, he didn't say a word as he lifted the armrest separating our seats. He pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me like a lifeline. We sat like this for I didn't know how long, clinging to each other, as the plane took off, taking us away from our little oasis and back to reality...a completely unknown reality.
"How do I find him, Leah? I don't where to start."
"I'll help you. We'll find him."
"How?" he asked, sounding desperate.
"Logan said they were on the way to a friend of the family's house. That was why they were in Virginia. Did she have any friends who lived in Virginia?"
"No, not that I know of," he answered.
"Sarah? Does that name mean anything to you? When I was with Connor, he said he was going to see Sarah."
"Heather's best friend's name was Sarah. She lived in New York though...or at least, she used to. Her last name was Weaver."
"Maybe she moved?" I suggested.
"Maybe. But how would I find her now?"
"Hotshot, you have heard of Facebook, right?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Mmm, yes, I've heard of it, but I don't have an account."
"What? Yes, you do. I see you post all the time."
"That's a fan page. My publicist runs it. I do not have a Facebook page on purpose. It's too easy to track me, and I would prefer to remain a bit of a mystery," he said, giving a slight smile. "So, you could find her on Facebook?"
"Yes, I think we could, assuming she has an account. Want me to look?"
He nodded, and we spent the next half an hour, thanks to the Wi-Fi on the plane, stalking Sarah Weaver on Facebook. I started off by looking up Heather, and I found her with the help of Declan. Her account was pretty well secured, only showing a small photo of her, but her friend list was still accessible. We went through it and found a Sarah Keane who lived in Williamsburg, Virginia. From there, it was as simple as looking Sarah up on Google.
"You found him," Declan said, completely astonished.
"Assuming he's still there."
"He's there. They were best friends, and Heather didn't have any other family. I don't see Heather leaving him with anyone else," he said.
I knew he was trying not to be angry with Heather because of the fact that eight years had gone by and she'd never once bothered to let him know that he had a child.
"It's okay," I said. "We'll make it right. He'll know you now."
He agreed, and for the first time in twenty-four hours, he rested his head on my chest, closed his eyes, and slept.