Page 92 of The Prime-Time Experiment

The thought settled into his chest with startling clarity, solid enough that it almost knocked the breath from him. Declan lifted his gaze at last, his voice rough when he finally said it out loud.

“I love her, Mum.”

The words hung between them, heavy and irreversible.

“And I think she left because she loves people so much that she’d rather break her own heart than risk hurting someone else’s.” His jaw tightened slightly. “And now all I can think about is how alone she must’ve felt making that decision by herself.”

A strained breath left him, something frustrated and exhausted tangled together.

“And I hate that part of me is angry about it,” he admitted quietly. “Because it makes it sound like what she did was selfish when it wasn’t. I know why she did it, I do.” His gaze dropped briefly. “But I can’t help it.”

His gaze focused on the pattern of the tiles, following the grounding patterns he and Ebony used when attempting to control her emotions.

“Every aspect of my day makes me think of her,” he said, voice quieter now. “And it feels like she took the oxygen out of my life when she left.” His throat tightened around the next words. “I still don’t know how to breathe without her.”

The room was quiet for a moment, the weight of his confession sinking into his skin.

“I can’t say I’m shocked,” Leanne said gently. “I suspected it from the way you’ve looked at her from the very beginning.”

Declan let out a breath that felt like it had been sitting in his chest for days.

“She doesn’t know,” he added, his voice rougher now. “And I don’t think she’d know what to do with it if she did.”

Leanne’s gaze held his, steady and grounding.

“Maybe not,” she said. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

Declan nodded faintly, his eyes dropping again, but this time there was no tension in the movement. Just weight.

“And I don’t think she walked away because she doesn’t feel something,” Leanne continued, quieter now. “If anything, I think it’s the opposite.”

Declan’s jaw shifted slightly at that, something in his expression tightening, then holding.

“Then why leave?” he asked.

Leanne tilted her head slightly, her voice soft but certain.

“Because for someone like her,” she said, “feeling that much probably doesn’t feel safe yet.”

The kitchen fell quiet around them, the weight of it settling into the space between them. Declan didn’t respond straight away. He stood there, still, the words being the final puzzle piece he needed.

Leanne stepped closer without thinking, her hand lifting to brush lightly against his cheek, and that was when she saw it. The faint track of a tear, already there, already fallen.

Declan didn’t move to wipe it away. He didn’t even seem to realise it was there.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured.

That was enough to crack something open.

Declan exhaled sharply, looking away, his jaw tightening like he was trying to pull himself back into control, but it was already there now. The truth of it. The weight of it.

He nodded faintly, swallowing against the tightness in his throat.

“I haven’t chased her,” he said. “I didn’t want to push her any further away.”

“And that was the right instinct,” Leanne said immediately. “You gave her space. You respected her. But don’t confuse that with disappearing.”

Declan’s gaze lifted to hers, searching.