Page 70 of The Endless Want

“So what’s your plan?”

I swallow hard. The decision is jagged inside me, complicated, painful, necessary.

“I’ll try to talk to him once more,” I say finally. “One last time. If he shuts me down, or gets angry, or refuses to listen…”

“Yes?” Mackenzie prompts.

“… then I’ll go to Liam,” I whisper. “Because I want this baby safe. And if Declan can’t be trusted right now, Liam will make sure I’m protected.”

Mackenzie nods slowly. “That’s fair. Hard. But fair.”

I breathe out, long and shaky, my decision settling like a stone in my stomach.

One last chance. One attempt to bridge the distance between us. And if it fails—Then I’ll walk another path without him.

Even if my heart breaks for it.

The café empties slowly around us, chairs scraping, plates clinking, the usual hum of a late afternoon drifting toward evening. I sit with my hands wrapped around the warm coffee cup, but I haven’t had more than a sip. My stomach is too tight, my mind too loud.

Mackenzie watches me like she’s afraid I might fold in on myself. Maybe she’s right to worry.

The decision I’ve made—the one solid thing in the mess of the last few months—doesn’t quiet my fear.

“I’ll go with you when you talk to him if you want,” she says suddenly.

I blink. “No. I need to do this alone.”

“Ailish,” she says gently, leaning forward. “Declan isn’t… simple. And the two of you together aren’t simple either. I’m not trying to meddle, I’m trying to make sure you’re safe. And heard.”

I press my lips together, considering. “I appreciate it. But if I’m going to tell him, it has to be just him and me. He would shut down if someone else was there.”

She can’t argue with that. She nods, reluctantly. “Then I’ll be close. Not in the room, but close.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

We sit for another few minutes, watching people pass the frosted café windows—faces blurred by the condensation, voices muffled. Life outside moving normally while mine rearranges itself entirely.

The ultrasound picture feels like it’s burning a hole through my jacket. Mackenzie places her hand over mine. “Whatever happens, you’re not alone in this.”

I look at her, my throat tightening. “I know.” But knowing doesn’t solve the conflict spinning through my chest.

The truth is… even after everything—the arguments, the danger, the sharp edges, the fear—there is a part of me that still wants Declan. Still reaches for him in the dark. Still feels tethered to him in a way that scares me enough to make me consider running.

He’s chaos. Pure, volatile chaos. And I’m carrying his child.

“I should get back to work,” I say quietly. “If I stay here too long, I’ll lose my nerve.”

Mackenzie knows better than to argue. “I’ll drive.”

The late afternoon light is fading, turning the city into a wash of dusky pink and amber. Mackenzie drives with calm precision, the quiet between us comfortable—even though my pulse won’t stop climbing.

“Do you want me to drop you straight home?” she asks.

“No.” I stare out the window. “I need to go to the club. He’s there until closing tonight.”

She shoots me a look. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes,” I say, even though my hands are trembling.