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Oh my God.

I finally answered her. “Siobhan, I think there’s more than one way to know you love someone. And one of those ways is losing them. Sometimes we don’t realize we love someone until it’s too late. Until they’re gone. I think that might be what’s happening to me.”

Her eyes practically bugged out of her head. “You love someone? Another guy? Number three?”

I shook my head and laughed. “No. Not number three. I love Declan.” I paused, gauging to make sure. Wow. Yeah. It sure is. “It’s Declan.”

She gasped. “Are you gonna tell him?”

I shook my head. “Maybe? I don’t know. I need more time to think about it. I only now just figured it out.”

“Okay.” She smiled and resumed eating her pizza as if this whole thing was no big deal.

It was to me.

We watched a movie after that and shared a giant tub of popcorn. But all I could think about was my realization about Declan. What did it mean? He was leaving Wisconsin for California in a few days. I still had a life here. Furthermore, what if he didn’t love me back? Then it wouldn’t matter how I felt.

I could only hope for some sort of sign in the days to come. I needed guidance on how to proceed. But I was especially glad I’d let Will go. Now I knew the source of my inability to love him. I loved someone else.

***

Later that night, Siobhan had gone to Declan’s room (yes, it would always be “Declan’s room”) to sleep, and I’d retreated to my own bedroom.

About ten minutes into my nighttime skincare routine, I heard my sister call me from across the hall.

“Molly!”

“Yeah?”

“Can you come here?”

When I entered the room, she was holding a piece of paper. “I found an M&M under the bed when I went to put my shoes there. So I went looking for more of them and found this.”

I took it from her. It was Declan’s handwriting.

And there were expletives.

Shit.

A bunch of sentences had been scratched out with a single line through them.

I read the note.

Fuck it. Let’s just try it.

I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to fuck you, Molly. But it’s so much more than that.

Maybe we should take it day by day and see where it goes.

I’m crazy about you, Molly. So let’s just do this.

What? My heart clenched. “Pretend you didn’t see this, okay? Go to bed, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “’Night, Molly.”

“Goodnight.”

I took the note to my room and sat on the bed, rereading it over and over.

When did Declan write this?

I wracked my brain and couldn’t figure it out. But the timing didn’t matter. This proved he had wanted to be with me at one point, even though something had stopped him from telling me. This was all the answer I needed. I’d gotten the very sign I’d asked for. Now…what was I going to do about it?

CHAPTER 33

* * *

Declan

I had no idea if I was making the right decision. Sitting on the runway, I stared out the window while my heart pounded in my chest.

What if I’m too late?

What if she tells me she’s in love with him?

What if she can’t see a future for us as more than good friends?

The other alternative should have brought me relief…

What if she loves me back?

But instead, that thought made me sweat even more.

What if she loves me back?

What if she gave up the opportunity for a stable life with a decent guy, and all I could give her was long periods of darkness where getting out of bed to go to work was the best I could do?

What if things got worse and someday it affected my job, and I couldn’t even provide for us?

I stared at the cabin door. I was sitting in row seven, and people were still boarding the plane. The seat next to me hadn’t even been filled yet. If I wanted to, I could grab my bag from the overhead compartment and bolt out the door. Molly had no idea I was coming, so it wasn’t like she’d be disappointed.

Beads of sweat trickled down the back of my neck even though the AC was blowing right on me. I continued to watch passengers pass, inwardly freaking out as the plane filled up and my time to escape ticked away. At one point, a gigantic man stopped at my row of seats. He had to be at least six foot six and easily three-hundred pounds of muscle.

He lifted a suitcase into the overhead compartment and stepped into the empty aisle seat next to me. Buckling, he apologized. “Sorry if I encroach, man. I usually try to fly first class for the wider seats, but they didn’t have any open.”

“No problem.”

I kept staring at the cabin door.