Page 116 of See You Maybe

How could she say that to him now… After a lifetime of reminding him of his responsibilities.

Keeping a tight rein on his anger, he bit out, “That would have been great to hear years ago. It’s too late now.” Declan opened her car door.

“It’s never too late. I want you to be happy.” To his horror, his mother’s eyes glistened. Declan had never seen his mother cry, and he instantly felt guilty.

“I’m Irish. Tragedy is in my blood,” Declan deliberately misquoted Yeats as he kissed her forehead.

“You’re only Irish when it suits you,” Siobhan said tartly, and then slammed her car door.

When Declan turned to walk to his own car, he found Cara, arms wrapped around her stomach, waiting for him.

“Go inside. It’s freezing out here, and you don't even have a coat on.”

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Cara’s voice was so solemn, chills ran down Declan’s spine.

“Who?” He infused the word with as much menace as he was capable, warning her not to go there, but Cara wasn’t intimidated. She never was by him.

“You don’t remember telling me, do you?”

Declan’s heart raced, and he forced his breath to stay even. “Telling you what?”

Cara closed the distance between them, and he saw the goosebumps on her arms. She was shivering. “Go inside, Car-bear. It’s too cold.”

“Then tell me the truth quickly.” Violet eyes identical to his sparkled up at him. Cara softened her voice. “You told me a story—about your tattoo.” Her gaze fell to his chest where his heart had stopped beneath the flower she couldn’t see. “The only time you ever mentioned it.”

Declan’s ribs closed tight over his lungs.

“You were drunk,” Cara continued, oblivious to the panic roaring to life inside him. “Extremely drunk. It was about four years ago. Do you remember?”

A vague memory stirred. Cara trying to push him into a seated position, threatening to call Mrs. Woodson, their father’s housekeeper.

Four years ago. The day he'd seen Olivia's picture in the file and discovered she was married. The last kernel of hope that he had held on to crushed. She loved someone else. She'd made a life with someone else.

“See you.”

“Maybe.”

He’d gotten blackout drunk with no memory of how he’d ended up back in his room at his father’s estate. Fuck! Cara had been there.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” His voice sounded weak even to him. “I don't remember.”

“You do.” Cara was firm. “Declan, you were lying on the floor of the library with books scattered around you. I was home from college, and I found you because you were singing and reciting poetry at the top of your lungs.” Her lips lifted at the corner. “I didn't even know you liked poetry.”

Her humor disappeared just as quickly as it came. Declan waited barely breathing, terrified of what Cara would reveal next.

“You told me that if I ever fell in love, I needed to do whatever it took to protect it. To keep it safe. Because, and this is a direct quote, Declan—'True love only comes around once in a lifetime.’ I was more than a little freaked out seeing you like that.

“You were always so in control, and I could see how devastated you were. I didn’t know what had caused it or what to do, so I teased you about all the models I'd seen you with. I'll never forget that moment… You ripped open your shirt and showed me the tattoo. You pointed at it and told me you had lost your wild white rose. You kept saying it over and over. ‘I’ve lost her forever. My wild white rose.’ I've never seen anyone look so sad, Declan. It breaks my heart to think about it even now.”

“Cara,” Declan choked out.

She shook her head hard. “I know you. You're going to deny it and say that you don't remember.”

“You said I was drunk.” Declan heard the desperation in his voice and grabbed for his control. “It doesn’t mean anything. I might say anything when I’m drunk.”

“That's not true.” Cara shook her head again, her eyes flashing. “On the rare occasions you get drunk, you tell stories and laugh. It’s the only time you ever let go. This was different, Declan.”

“What do you want from me?” The ache in his chest grew, creating a hollow, concave space where his heart should be. Reminding him of all the things that he would never have.