Three days of silence. Three days of separate bedrooms. Three days of wondering if love was strong enough to survive the truth.
I didn't sleep.
Three days since I'd walked out of his office. Three days since I'd learned that my father's death was connected to his family. Three days of silence, separation, and grief.
I barely ate. Barely moved. Just stared at the photographs of my father and tried to make sense of a world where the man I loved was connected to the man who'd killed him.
It didn't matter that Harold Kane hadn't known. It didn't matter that the real killer was in prison. What mattered was the blood. The connection. The impossibility of separating Declan from the name he carried.
My phone buzzed. Again.
Declan: I'm sorry. I should have told you. I was scared. I'm always scared when it comes to you.
I'd read that message a dozen times. I still didn't respond.
Another buzz.
Declan: I'll wait. However long you need. I'm not going anywhere.
I set the phone down. Stared at the ceiling.
And cried.
---
On the second day, Margaret called.
"Olivia. He's a wreck. You're a wreck. Talk to me."
"There's nothing to say."
"There's always something to say." Her voice was gentle. "He loves you. That's real. The rest the past, the family, the secrets that's just noise."
"It's not noise. It's my father."
"I know." A pause. "But your father wouldn't want you to lose the love of your life over something that happened thirty years ago."
"You don't know that."
"No. But I know Declan. I've known him for twenty years. He's the best man I've ever worked for. And since you came into his life, he's become the best version of himself." Her voice softened. "Don't throw that away. Not without talking to him."
I didn't answer.
"Just think about it."
She hung up.
On the third night, a knock.
"Olivia. Please."
I didn't answer.
"I know you're hurting. I know you need space. But I need you to know—I love you. That hasn't changed. That will never change."
Silence.
"I'll wait. However long it takes. I'll wait."
His footsteps faded.
I cried until I couldn't anymore.
On the fourth day, I started digging.
Not to find evidence against Declan to find the truth. All of it. I needed to know what really happened. Not Declan's version. Not Julian's version. The real version.
I started with my father's old files. Boxes my mother had saved, stored in her basement for thirty years. She brought them over without question.
"What are you looking for?" she asked.
"The truth."
"About what?"
"About Dad. About how he died."
She was quiet for a long moment. Then: "You know already?"
"I know some of it. I need to know all of it."
She nodded slowly. "He was investigating a company. Blackwood Capital. He thought they were involved in something illegal." She paused. "He told me once that if anything happened to him, it would be because of that investigation. I didn't believe him. I should have."
I took her hand. "It's not your fault."
"I know. But I've carried it for thirty years." She squeezed my fingers. "Find the truth, baby. For him. For you."
I spent hours going through the files.
Newspaper clippings. Court records. Handwritten notes in my father's cramped script. Slowly, the picture emerged.
Victor Cross. Mid-level executive at Blackwood Capital. Running an illegal operation money laundering, fraud, maybe worse. My father had been about to expose him.
Cross found out. Cross arranged the accident.
Cross was prosecuted years later for unrelated crimes. He was in prison now. Serving life.
The acquisition records were clear. Harold Kane had never been involved. The purchase was handled by a junior team, approved in a batch of hundreds. No one at Kane Holdings had known about my father's investigation. No one had known about the murder.
No one except Julian.
He'd found the connection. He'd kept it. He'd waited for the perfect moment to use it.
I found Declan in his office at midnight.
He looked up when I walked in. Hope and fear warring on his face. He looked terrible unshaven, dark circles, shirt wrinkled like he'd been wearing it for days.
"Olivia."
"I did some digging."
"I know. Margaret told me." A pause. "What did you find?"
I crossed the room. Sat across from him.
"Your grandfather didn't know. The acquisition was handled by subordinates. He never even visited the company."
"I told you that."
"I know. But I needed to see it for myself." I pulled out the documents. "The man who killed my father is Victor Cross. He's in prison. He's been there for years. No connection to Kane Capital. No connection to your family."
Declan's eyes moved over the papers. His hands shook slightly.
"Julian knew this?"
"Julian knew everything. He just left out the parts that would exonerate you."
He was quiet for a long moment. Then: "You should have told me you were digging."
"Would you have stopped me?"
"No." He met my eyes. "But I would have helped."
I moved to sit beside him.
"You should have told me," I said. "When you found out. You should have come to me."
"I know."
"Not because it changes anything. Because I deserved to hear it from you."
"I know." His voice cracked. "I was scared. I thought I thought if you knew, you'd leave."
"I almost did."
"I know that too."
I took his hands. "I'm not leaving."
He looked up. His eyes were wet.
"Your name isn't your family. Your blood isn't their sins." I squeezed his hands. "You're the man who learned to cook my mother's dumplings. The man who held me after nightmares. The man who told the board he loved me even when it cost him. That's who you are. That's who I love."
He pulled me into his arms. Held me like I was the only solid thing in the world.
"I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much it terrifies me."
"Good." I held him tighter. "It should."
We stayed there for a long time.
Just holding each other. Letting the silence heal what words couldn't.
Finally, he spoke. "What do we do about Julian?"
I'd been thinking about that. "We face him. Together."
"Together?"
"Together." I pulled back to look at him. "He wanted this to break us. It didn't. Now we show him that."
Declan was quiet. Then: "You're brilliant."
"I know."
He laughed. A real laugh. "I love you."
"I love you too." I kissed him. "Now let's go to bed. I'm exhausted."
"Together?"
"Always."
Tomorrow, we face Julian. But tonight, we have each other.