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The video starts. In it, Declan sits in his condo, in his living room, at one end of the low-slung leather couch. He’s flanked by an exposed brick wall, wearing a cable-knit sweater, his hair ruffled and relaxed. He looks almost casual. Almost like a normal person.
Off-camera, the interviewer speaks. “Mr. Wright, thanks for inviting me into your home for this chat.”
Declan smiles, a genuine smile that reaches his eyes. “It’s my pleasure. Welcome.”
“What can you tell us, right off the bat, about Dynasty’s new direction? This is an unusual turn for a fitness company.”
“Yeah, you could say that,” Declan says with a quiet laugh. He reaches up one hand to rub the back of his neck as he continues. “But Dynasty is an unusual company. I’m an unusual man, and it’s an unusual team. So I think, honestly, that it’s pretty fitting if we don’t do things the normal way.”
I grip the phone tightly, my knuckles white, unable to tear my gaze away from his face.
“I started this company for a lot of reasons,” Declan says. “But mostly, it was a way to honor my mother’s legacy. I created Dynasty from the ground up—just to prove that I could, that it was possible. I wish that she was alive today to see what it’s become. I know that she would be proud.”
This is everything I was thinking. I stare at the screen, stunned. This is exactly what I wanted to do for Dynasty’s social media campaign.
“This new line is mostly my way of sharing what I’ve done with more people,” Declan continues. “My mother was an open, loving person, and she would have wanted to see the Dynasty community grow. So I’m inviting everyone in. The more, the merrier.”
“I can’t believe he’s doing this,” I murmur, tears stinging my eyes at the emotion in his voice. I never expected him to open up to the world like this. Reagan stands next to me, practically bouncing with enthusiasm.
“Keep listening,” she says.
“I haven’t always been the most open person,” Declan says on-screen. “But that’s behind me. I’m done hiding. Done closing myself off.” He hesitates, then adds, “That’s why I’ll be stepping down as CEO of Dynasty. It was the most important thing in the world to me for a long time, but it’s not anymore. I’ve realized that there are things more important to me than running this company, and I got so focused on my work that I lost sight of those things. So as the company moves in this new direction, I won’t be the one shepherding it.”
My heart thuds in my chest as Declan looks away from the interviewer, addressing the camera directly instead. I feel like I’m caught in his gaze, even though he’s just an image on a screen.
“I thought I had everything under control and that I could manage it all,” he says, emotion breaking through in his usually steady voice. “But I wasn’t doing right by Dynasty, by the people I love, or even myself. And I’m going to start trying to fix that.”
The interviewer makes an affirmative noise. “Big developments, indeed.”
The clip ends, and I exhale, handing the phone back to Reagan. “Wow.”
“Right?” She grins. “That’s quite the change, huh? And that’s your campaign, isn’t it? Everything you wanted to see from marketing.”
I shake my head, still astounded. “I never thought I’d see that. That sure as hell isn’t the direction Hannah wanted to take, and after all, she’s the one in charge nowadays.”
Reagan gives me a shrewd, thoughtful look. “If I had to guess, I don’t think that Hannah was the person behind that interview.”
I wander over to the couch, sinking down onto the cushions. Reagan follows me, sitting down beside me as I stare at the now dark phone screen. In a way, this does seem like a win—something to celebrate. Someone over at Dynasty was listening to my ideas.
But it still doesn’t fill the empty hole in my chest.
“It was so real,” I say, sighing and leaning my head against the back of the couch. “It was honest, and vulnerable, and even relatable. I don’t think he’s ever given an interview like that in his life.”
“Yeah.” Reagan nods. “That’s why I thought you should see it.”
I’m about to say something else when I’m interrupted by the door buzzer. I sit bolt upright, looking over at the door, and then glance at Reagan. There’s a gleam of curiosity in her gaze as she jerks her head toward the intercom, and I stand, walking over to it.
I hold down the button and speak into the microphone.
“Hello? Who is it?”
“Sophie. It’s Declan.”
My heart races at the sound of his voice. I swallow and open my mouth to tell him to go away, but the words won’t come.
“Can I come up?” he asks softly. “I’d like to talk to you.”
I glance over my shoulder at Reagan, who gives me a hopeful look and a nod. I’m not sure she would’ve been encouraging me to let him up even a month ago, but the new guy she’s been seeing recently seems to have rekindled her belief in love.
