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"I know you do, baby girl, but not how I love you. I won't pretend this doesn't fucking suck because it does. You're breaking my fucking heart right now." I open my mouth to interrupt, but he holds his hand up to keep me quiet. "Your heart was never mine to have, and that's okay. You're my best friend, Camille." He sets our coffee mugs on the table, turning his body to face me completely.
"We got married because of Luca, and I know that wasn't fair to either of us. We've never made a very great couple. But God, Dec, you're my best friend too, and I fucking love you." A tear that I didn't even know I had left to cry rolls down my cheek. He pulls me against his chest, kissing the side of my head.
"Stop. It's okay. This is the right thing to do. I won't continue being selfish, won’t continue keeping you trapped in our marriage when your heart is already taken." I look up at him skeptically, raising my eyebrows in question.
He laughs. "We both know that you're in love with Dean. My guess would be you always have been, and that's okay because I know he's in love with you too."
I gasp. "What are—How do you know?"
"I saw how you two looked at each other the night we went on that whack-ass double date, and you turned into McGregor. You've never looked at me that way, and that's okay. There are no hard feelings, and I want you to be happy." I throw my arms around him again, letting my tears wet his neck.
He rubs my back soothingly, whispering promises in my ear that we'll always be friends and he'll always be here for me, both of us promising to stay in each other's lives forever.
As much as it hurts, I know we're doing the right thing. We're setting each other free, and I know he'll find his epic love story one day.
It's just not meant to be with me.
* * *
The following day,we drive to the cemetery hand in hand to visit our little boy's grave for the first time. His large granite headstone is in the shape of a heart with a teddy bear engraved into the granite on the right side. It's beautiful and perfect for our baby.
"Hi, buddy." Declan squats down and sets flowers beneath the stone.
"Hi, baby boy." I kneel into the grass, setting a red firetruck beside the flowers. It was Luca's favorite toy, so I took it from his room this morning to bring to him. "Mommy and Daddy miss you so much, baby boy." I place my hand on the headstone, his photo sealed into the stone on the left side. Luca's smiling face stares at me, and my chest aches.
"We love you, buddy. We miss you so much." Declan sniffles, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
We spend some much-needed time at our son's final resting place, talking to him and telling him how much we love and miss him. I don't know if I believe in heaven or if he can look down on us, but if he can, I want him to see that he is missed deeply—every single day.
After getting lunch, Declan takes me to his studio so I can see the rest of the band. It's been a while, and it's nice to see them again. Declan plays the songs he's written, and I agree to let him record the songs he wrote about Luca.
We spend most of the day together, except for a few hours when I leave to go to my New York office and check in with my staff. I'll be happy once my Washington location is complete so I can fully transfer my daily operations to Seattle.
New location to go with my fresh start. Exactly what I need.
Declan and I meet back at the penthouse and order in for dinner. We stay up all night talking about the past. Sharing stories from before we met. I even tell him about Dean and our childhood together.
This time with Declan is perfect and very needed.
On Sunday, he takes me to the airport and kisses me goodbye. It isn't a romantic kiss; it's a final goodbye.
Our decision to get a divorce is mutual, and we know it is long overdue.
With a final kiss, we say our goodbyes and close the door on our marriage.
Divorce isn't always a bad thing; sometimes, it's the best thing that can happen to someone.
THIRTY-FOUR
NOW
Dean
My head has been spinning for days. I’ve also been drunk for days. Ever since Karina dropped her bombshell news on me, I’ve been drinking my feelings away, hoping that it’s just a bad dream that I’ll eventually wake up from.
So far, it’s been four days and no such luck.
It’s Sunday night, and I’m still drinking heavily. You’d think I’d stop and sober up, considering I have work tomorrow and spent the weekend intoxicated, but no such luck. I don’t plan on sobering up any time soon. Right now, alcohol is the only thing numbing me enough to keep me from completely freaking the fuck out.
