Chapter 9
“She’s gone? Gone where?”
Tristan’s face froze mid–panic. The others all looked just as stunned.
None of them had ever considered that Marissa might actually leave.
Over the years, they’d watched Declan crash and burn after that accident, seen people cycle in and out of his life. Hell, even they–his closest friends–hadn’t always had the guts to stick around during his darkest days.
Only Marissa had stayed. She’d come into his life when he had nothing left, stood by him with unshakable patience and grace. No matter how ugly things got, no matter how he lashed out, she
never once talked about leaving.
So why now?
Before anyone could say more, Declan’s phone rang again. Instinctively, he snatched it up.
“Marissa? Where are-
But before he could finish, a different voice came through.
“Declan, I twisted my ankle. Can you take me to the hospital?”
It was Celeste.
Any other day, Declan would’ve gone without hesitation. But something about Marissa vanishing had him completely off balance, and without thinking, the answer came out harsher than intended.
“I can’t. I’ve got something going on. Call someone else!”
Even his friends glanced at him in surprise. But honestly, they were glad to hear him finally shut
the door on Celeste.
Celeste hadn’t expected such a cold rejection. She bit her lip, the smile on her face stiff and cracking, though she still tried to sound gentle and understanding, her voice laced with
disappointment.
“Oh… I see. Did something happen with Marissa? Is that why you left the party so suddenly?”
Only then did Declan remember he might’ve shoved something over in his rush to leave. He paused, then sighed.
Chapter 9
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“Wait there. I’m coming.”
He hung up and turned to head back toward the ballroom, leaving his friends exchanging looks
again.
–
At the Hospital
“It’s just a minor sprain. Some ointment and a few days of rest, and she’ll be fine.”
The doctor handed the report to Declan. Knowing she wasn’t seriously hurt, he finally felt a bit of
relief.
He was just about to help Celeste back home when he caught a glimpse of someone familiar out of
the corner of his eye.
“Marissa?”
His entire expression shifted. Ignoring Celeste entirely, he rushed forward and grabbed the
woman’s arm.
His grip tightened instinctively–almost desperate–like he feared she’d vanish again.
But when she turned around, he realized immediately: it wasn’t her.
The stranger yanked her arm back with a wince. “Dude, what the hell?!”
“Sorry,” Declan murmured, backing off. “I thought you were someone else.”
He stood there as she walked away, a hollow ache blooming in his chest.
It wasn’t her.
So she really did leave.
“What’s wrong?” Celeste hobbled over, forcing a smile as she glanced at his expression. He was still staring off at the end of the hallway.
He shook his head wordlessly and helped her toward the recovery room.
After settling her in, he stepped back out and pulled out his phone.
“Find out where Marissa went,” he told his assistant.
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That night, Declan returned to his parents‘ house at his mother’s request.
He was still trying to figure out how to explain Marissa’s disappearance when his mother greeted him at the door, seemingly unfazed by the fact that he’d come home alone.
“You’re just in time,” she said with a cheerful smile, pulling him inside. “Mrs. Hargrove just
finished cooking. She made all your favorites for your birthday–come on, have a taste.”
He was ushered to the dining table, where he immediately noticed someone unfamiliar sitting
across from him.
Something about her presence sent a strange twinge through him. He turned to his mother and asked carefully, “Who’s this?”
“That’s Genevieve Langford, Uncle Sean’s daughter,” his mother explained warmly. “And Celeste,
this is my son–Declan Hawthorne. Just call him Declan.”
