Page 77 of The Endless Want

“No,” I whisper, breath breaking. “Please just—just be calm. Let me talk. Let me explain.”

His eyes meet mine. Unblinking. Burning. And for the first time in weeks, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Then tell me the truth,” he says. “All of it. Right now.”

My pulse stutters. My hand goes to my stomach before I can stop it. His eyes follow the movement then lift to mine. I draw one breath, one single trembling breath, before speaking the truth I’ve been afraid of for weeks.

“Declan,” I whisper, “please… let me say it before you react.”

The room holds its breath.

So does he.

So do I.

CHAPTER 23

Ailish

Declan stands in my doorway, shoulders rigid, jaw clenched hard enough I can hear the faint grind of his teeth. He doesn’t look at the overturned envelope. He doesn’t look at the ultrasound photo on the floor. He only looks at me.

A storm. Contained by a thread.

I force myself to inhale. My lungs fight it. “Declan… I’m pregnant.”

The words land with a weight I’ve been holding in my chest for weeks. They fall into the tiny space between us and echo like a confession in a cathedral.

For a heartbeat, two heartbeats, ten—he’s still. Then the muscle beneath his eye twitches once. “I see,” he says quietly. A whisper. A warning.

My throat tightens. “It’s yours.” Nothing changes in his posture, but everything changes in the air.

“Of course it is,” he says coldly.

My stomach drops. “Declan⁠—”

“You think I’m an idiot?” he cuts in sharply, stepping forward. “You think I need you to tell me that?” he cuts in sharply, stepping forward. “There’s been one night, Ailish. One. I’ve gone back over it more times than I’ll ever admit to you.”

His voice rises—not loud, but sharp, serrated. “Of course it’s mine.”

I step back instinctively. He notices. “You’re afraid of me now?” he whispers. “After everything?”

“I’m not afraid of you,” I say. “I’m afraid of what you’ll assume.”

He laughs once—quiet, bitter, humorless. “Oh, I already have assumptions,” he says. “Plenty.”

My chest tightens. “Declan, please—just listen.”

“I am listening,” he snaps, stepping farther into the apartment, forcing me to back toward the small table where the envelope still lies open. “I’m listening to the woman who’s known for five weeks and let me find out off a floor.”

“I tried to tell you. You told me not here.”

“No.” His voice is a blade, sharp enough to cut skin. “It’s exactly the same pattern.”

I flinch. His expression twists. “Oh, don’t do that. Don’t look at me like I’m the villain here.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“But you’re thinking it.” He gestures to the ultrasound photo with a flick of his hand. “You hid this. You went to a clinic in secret. You were followed there, Ailish, and you didn’t tell me.”

“I found out I was followed three days ago. From Ronan.” I make myself hold his eyes. “You ran a car off the access road and decided I didn’t need to know it happened.”