Created by ifiwasaguyx
link
(this story was not written by me-I don't own)
Tagged: degrassi, babydaddy
Declan.
Before You Read: This is important!
If you see:
“...” between paragraphs, it means that the scene above is over, but the scene below is in the same day.
“- - - -” between paragraphs, it means that the scene above is over, but the scene below is from a different day.
You and Declan sat in his very large, very fancy bedroom. It was wide, and spacey, and decorated with both a manly and sophisticated eye. The room held a king sized bed, a bureau, a walk in closet—which had it's own sofa—a desk, a love seat, an arm chair, a fire place, and a flat screen television. The love seat and arm chair were positioned around the fire place, and the television hung on the wall to the right of the fireplace. He sat on the love seat, leaning slightly into the right arm. You sat next to him, leaning your back against the back of the sofa, with your feet stretched to the left. His left arm rested comfortable around your shoulders, half on the top of the sofa. Your head rested against the left half of his chest.
The television played some trashy horror flick that you'd been dying to see. While you watched the movie, you kept your arms around your neck, so that it didn't take too much effort to cover your eyes when someone was brutally murdered. Whenever you flinched to cover your eyes, Declan looked down at you, laughed, and rubbed your left arm.
The screen went blank and a loud rock and roll guitar solo blasted from the surround sound. As the end credits rolled up the screen you leaned back, resting your head on his lap and looked up at him.
“It's over!” You cheered.
He laughed and bent to press his lips against yours.
You sat up and turned so that you were sitting normally on the sofa. You stretched your arms behind your head and sighed. “Now what?”
He walked to the television and turned it off. He turned to face you, with his hands on his hips and a smirk on his lips. “Well, it's getting kind of late.”
“Is it?” You looked at the clock hanging above the fire place. “Holy shit, it's midnight. I should probably get going.”
“But it's midnight.”
“Yeah?”
“And you live all the way across town.”
“I love ten minutes away.” You laughed.
He walked and stood in front of you. “You could just stay here.”
“What about your parents?” You looked up at him, your brow bent in interest.
“Mr. and Mrs. Coyne are away for the weekend.” He took your hand and pulled you to your feet.
“What about Fiona?”
He pulled you into him. “What about her?” He wrapped his arms around your waist.
You stood on your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Well then,” you sighed. “what did you have in mind?”
He smiled down at you, and pressed his lips hungrily against yours.
You smiled into the kiss, as he slid his hands up your back. You could feel the heat from his skin through your cotton shirt. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, bounced lightly, and wrapped your legs around his waist.
He moved his hands to your lower back, and held you firmly against him. With his lips still connected to yours, he slowly began walking toward the bed.
- - - -
You sat in a sturdy plastic chair across from the school counselor. On your lap you held a binder, on top of which sat a packet of papers and a couple of pamphlets on teen pregnancy. You nervously tapped your nails against the side of the binder.
“Whatever you decide, you can come and talk whenever you need. I can help you with anything you need.” The counselor smiled at you from across her cluttered desk.
“Thank you.” you stood, shifting the binder to your left arm, and grabbed your bag from the floor beside the chair. You slipped it onto your shoulder and exited the office.
As you rounded the hall on your way to your locket, you stared down at the top pamphlet. It was about adoption. You were at the corner when you collided with another body. The binder and everything on top of it fell to the floor.
“Oh!” You bent to pick up your stuff. “I'm sorry.” You looked up as you pulled your binder up, and found Fiona standing in front of you. “Sorry Fi.” You smiled at her.
“What's that?” She looked down at the pamphlets.
“Oh, it's nothing.”
“Does Declan know?” She crossed her arms at her chest.
You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “No, he doesn't know yet.”
“You shouldn't tell him.”
“What?”
“Think about what'll happen when when the press finds out. They'll have a field day, it'll be in every paper you can name. My parents will go completely nuts, I'll be a huge mess.”
The bell rang, signalling the changing of classes.
“I have to get to class.” You looked down the hall as everyone rushed down the hall.
Fiona smiled at you and started down the hall.
You sighed and hurried to your locker. You didn't want anyone to see the papers you held. You got your locker open and shoved the papers in.
Two arms twisted around your waist.
You jumped and turned.
Declan pressed his lips against yours. “Hello.”
You turned, slammed your locker shut, then turned back to him. “Hey.” You sighed.
“What was that?” He laughed.
“Nothing.” You smiled nervously up at him.
He stared into your ____ colored eyes. “Are you okay?”
You looked up into his crystal blue eyes. “Yeah.”
“All right.” He stepped back. “Well, we both have a free period, I thought we'd go and find you something special to wear to the dinner party tonight.”
“Dinner party?”
“My parent's annual spring party.”
“Oh, right. Sounds good.” You smiled up at him. “Let's go.”
He grabbed your hand and led you down the hall. “So I was thinking you could get something red.”
“Red?” You laughed. “Why red?”
“Because no one else will be in red.” He held the passenger side door of his car open for you, then rounded to the driver's side.
“But it's spring, no one wears red in the spring.”
“Lots of people wear red in the spring.”
“Why don't we see what we can find.”
He sighed. “Fine.” He turned the car on and pulled out of the parking spot.
- - - -
You and Declan went out and found a beautiful, slimming, strapless red dress. It fit you perfectly and accentuated every curve of your body. But unfortunately, you never made it to the party.
The time you spent with Declan kept your mind off of your situation, and the conversation that you and Fiona had shared earlier in the day. But as soon as you and Declan parted ways, your focus shifted. You thought out every possible scenario. You imagined what your life would be like for the next ten years if you had an abortion, if you gave the baby up for adoption, if you kept the baby, if you kept the baby and told Declan, if you kept the baby and didn't tell Declan, everything. In the end, you decided that you were against having an abortion, but you didn't know whether or not you wanted to keep the baby, or give it up. But you knew that no matter what you decided, you weren't going to tell Declan.
Telling Declan would cause so much trouble for him and his family. You didn't want to be the most recent reason that the Coynes were in the tabloids. And you didn't want to cause any problems between him and his parents. And you certainly did not want to ruin Declan's future.
After returning to school, you left early. You didn't tell Declan, but you called your mom to come pick you up. You told her that you had something urgent to discuss with her, and she agreed to pick you up.
In the end, your mom promised to help you with whatever you decided. By the end of your conversation, she was actually a little excited. Through brainstorming, you both came up with an easy way for you to keep the baby from Declan. You were going to move in with your grandmother in California. She agreed to help you with the baby. So you went home, packed up your most important possessions—your mom would be sending you everything else later—and made one stop before hopping on a plane. You wrote Declan a letter, explaining why you couldn't attend the party—of course it was some creative lie—it also explained that you were leaving for reasons you couldn't explain, to a place you couldn't name. You stopped at his parent's mansion, and gave the letter to the door man.
...
Declan stood in the center of the mansion's dining room. Every room was filled with fancily dressed socialites and their parents, all of which he had no interest in. He had scanned every room, and had yet to find you. The party had started hours ago. He was beginning to become worried. He scanned the dining room, and coming up empty, decided to check with the door man. He pushed through the three rooms between the dining room and the front entrance. He shared a friendly smile with those who recognized him, but ran from conversation.
“William,” he tapped the tall, thickly built man on the shoulder. “have you seen _____? She's about five five, ____ colored hair. She should be in a tight red dress.”
“I haven't seen anyone fitting that description, but a lady stopped by and asked me to give you this.” William held out the sealed red envelope.
“Thank you.” Declan took the envelope and turned back into the house. He pushed his way through the living room, into the hall, and up to his bedroom. He kicked the door shut and locked it. He crossed to the sofa, plopped down, and opened the envelope.
He recognized your handwriting immediately. His heart raced as he read your curvy cursive words. Your note read:
“Declan,
I'm sorry to do this to you, but I'm not going to make the party. Something has come up, I can't really explain it, but I'm leaving. I'm moving to live with some family members. My parents think it's what's best, and have happily informed me that I have no say in the matter. It kills me to leave on such a big night, after we went out and picked up the dress. It also kills me to leave you at such an amazing part of our relationship. I'm going to miss you greatly, but I'm sorry to tell you that I will not be able to contact you. It's a long, complicated story that I will spare you. Enjoy the party. Knock 'em dead in red.
I Love You,
_____”
Declan folded the letter natly, and replaced it in the red envelope. He rested his arms on his legs, and held his head in his hands.
There was a knocking on his door.
“Declan? Open up, it's me.” Fiona's muffled voice interrupted him.
He stood and walked to the door. He opened it and let Fiona in.
She took one look at him, and knew something was wrong. “What's up? The party's not that boring.” She plopped down on the sofa. She noticed the red envelope sitting on the cushion next to her. “What's this?” She held up the envelope.
“It's from _____.” He sat beside her.
“Where is she? I was dying to see the 'amazing' dress you picked out.”
“She's gone.”
“She was here? How long did she stay?”
“No, she's gone, left the city. Left the country.”
Fiona placed the letter on the couch and looked at her brother. “Oh.”
- - - -
Declan sat in the spacious living room of his Connecticut apartment. He sat on a large black leather couch. He wore sweat pants and a tee. His laptop sat open on his lap, while the fifty inch flat screen across the room was turned on with the volume on low. He was scrolling through a news story, when a request for a video message from Fiona popped up. He accepted.
“Hey.” He smiled into the camera.
“Hello, what are you up to?” Fiona asked.
“Just reading, what about you?”
“The same actually. I called to share something with you.”
“You didn't call, we're video chatting.”
“You know what I mean. Check your email. I sent you the link to a story I'm sure you'll want to read.”
“All right.” He opened a new internet tab, and signed into his email. He opened Fiona's email and clicked the link. He was redirected to a news story. The story was titled: Newest Member of the Coyne Family.
“What is this?” He clicked back to the video chat.
“Keep reading.” She answered cheerily.
He skimmed the article in confusion. “This can't be true.” He went back to Fiona. “Where did they get this information?”
“Scroll down to the pictures.”
“Is that _____?”
“It is.”
“That can't be her.”
“I don't know if it is or not, but I think it's very likely that it is. Listen, Declan, I've got to run, I'll call you in an hour or so.”
“Okay, by Fi.”
The video chat ended.
He read the article again, making sure he hadn't misread it. “I have to see her.” He grabbed his cell phone from the black coffee table in front of him. He dialed a number and held the phone to his ear. “Hello, I'd like to purchase a plane ticket.”
- - - -
You stood in the fenced in front yard of your tiny, cozy, brick, three bed roomed house. Your hair was long, it hung past the middle of your back. You wore a pair of blue, straight legged jeans with a white tank-top, and a blue plaid button down shirt. You held your hands in your back pockets as you watched your four year old daughter play in a tiny square sandbox.
Aurora Coyne _______, sat in a pile of sand. She wore a pair of stained blue jeans with a stained white Dora the Explorer shirt. Her straight, dirty blonde hair hung down her back, stopping an inch past her shoulders.
“Ror, be careful okay? Mommy's gonna go check on dinner.” You called.
“Otay.” Aurora answered, as she picked up a shovel full of sand.
You smiled and walked into the house. You passed through the neatly set up, red living room, stepping over a few Barbies on the way, and walked into the kitchen. Grabbing an oven-mitt, you pulled the oven open and checked on the chicken pieces that were baking in barbque sauce. Next, you checked on the pot of water on the stove, it was boiling. You pulled a box of Parmesan pasta mix from the cabinet above the oven, and poured it into the boiling water. After stirring the noodles in, you walked to the sink and looked out the tiny window above it.
Your heart jumped at the sight of a man dressed in dark washed jeans, a white long sleeved button down, and a black dressy vest. He had shaggy red-ish brown hair, and slightly tanned skin. He was standing at the door of the fence, watching Aurora.
You dashed through the living room and out the front door. You took a few deep breaths before walking further into the yard. “Can I help you?”
He looked up and fixed his gaze on you. He seemed to be studying you.
You noticed his crystal blue eyes, and your heart froze as you recognized him. “Declan?” You whispered.
“_____, hi.” He placed his hands in his pockets.
You walked to the fence, taking a long look at your daughter. “Hi, what are you doing here?”
“I, uh, guess you haven't been online in a few days.”
“No,” you crossed your arms at your chest. “I've been...busy. Why?”
“The word on the street is that the Coyne family has a new, well kind of new, member.” He looked at Aurora.
You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and avoided his beautiful eyes.
“So is it true?”
“Yes.” You looked up at him. “Yes, she's your daughter.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why did you leave?”
From where you stood, you could hear the faint buzzing of the timer in the kitchen.
“I'm in the middle of cooking, would you mind if we continued this inside?”
“Not at all.” He smiled faintly at you, and unlocked the gate.
You began walking into the house. “Come on Ror, it's almost time for dinner.”
Aurora dropped the pink bucket she held on a pile of sand. She stood, dusted off her butt, and skipped into the house.
You and Declan followed her.
“Go wash off in the bathroom.”
She ran down the hall and into the bathroom.
You could hear the scraping of her stood against the tiled floor. You smiled and walked to the oven. You turned the oven off and pulled the baking sheet of chicken onto the stove. You then turned the pasta off, and dumped the excess water into the sink. Before you mixed in the seasoning, you pulled a bag of broccoli from the freezer, poured it in a bowl of water, and shoved it in the microwave.
Declan stood in the doorway of the living room and kitchen. He held his hands in his pockets and studied both rooms. “Cute place.”
You looked back at him. “Thanks.” You stirred the pasta and poured it in a bowl. Then you took the chicken off of the cookie sheet, and placed it on a plate. You sat both on the four seater kitchen table, which was already set with two plates. “Would you like something to eat? There's plenty.”
“Sure.”
You walked to the sink, and pulled a plate from the drain board. You set a place for Declan, across from you and Aurora. “Ror, did you wash up?” You called into the living room.
“Yes.”
“Did you wash your hands?”
“Yes.”
“And your face?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want to drink with dinner?”
Aurora ran into the kitchen. Pushing past Declan, she ran to the fridge and pulled it open. Using both hands, she pulled a two liter container of apple juice from the lowest shelf. “Apple jewce.”
“Okay,” you grabbed the bottle from her, and shut the fridge. “Go sit down, dinner's ready.”
Aurora pulled her seat out, and climbed into it.
Declan took the seat across from your empty place.
You pulled the broccoli from the microwave and fixed it up, then you poured Aurora a glass of apple juice. “ Declan, can I get you something to drink?” You replaced the juice in the fridge, and pulled out a pitcher of water.
“Water is fine, thanks.”
Aurora stared at Declan. “Mommy,”
“Yes?”
“Who is he?”
“Why don't you ask him yourself.” You placed her juice in front of her.
“What's your name?” Aurora folded her hands on the table in front of her.
“My name is Declan, what's yours?” He smiled down at her. He noticed her clear blue eyes and smiled.
“My name is Aurora Coyne ________.”
Declan looked up at you with a smile as you approached the table with two glasses of water and a bowl of broccoli.
“All right, dinner is served.” You took your seat and unfolded your napkin on your lap. You took Aurora's plate and cut up half a chicken breast. Then, you scooped broccoli and noodles onto the plate. You placed it in front of her, then began filling your own plate.
Aurora picked up a square of chicken with her fingers and stuffed it in her mouth.
“Aurora, use your fork.” You took your napkin from your lap and wiped her sauce covered fingers.
She picked up her fork, which was a little too big for her hand, and stabbed at another square of chicken.
Declan watched her intently, smiling.
You kept your eyes locked on Declan. He didn't seem nearly as upset as you thought he would be.
...
Aurora sat on the cream colored sofa in the living room, her eyes fixed intently on the newest episode of iCarly. You stood in the kitchen, gathering the silverware and plates from dinner. Declan helped by carrying bowls and plates to the sink.
“You don't have to do that.” You stood at the sink, preparing to scrub each utensil.
“I'd like to help.” He handed you the last two plates. “Can I dry?”
You smiled at him. “Sure.” You pulled a disk towel from the handle of the oven and tossed I at him. You turned back to the sink and started wetting a sponge. You worked quietly for a few minutes.
“Why did you leave?” He finally broke the silence.
“I, uh, didn't really know what else to do.”
“You could have told me.” His voice was soft and sincere.
You handed him and dish and took the opportunity to look into his eyes. “I did what was best for you.”
“How do you know what's best for me?” His tone was still sweet.
“I didn't want to ruin your future.” You spoke into the sink.
“I can't hear you.”
You continued to scrub a plate, not quite sure what to say.
Declan reached across the sink and pushed the handle, turning the water off.
You stood with your hands in the sink, staring down at the escaping water.
“Why did you leave without telling me anything?”
You looked down at your soapy hands. “I thought it was for the best.”
“Why?”
You could feel his eyes on you. You turned, grabbed the towel from him, and dried your hands. “Fiona pointed out that if I told you, the tabloids would make something out of nothing.”
“Fiona? She knows.”
“I ran into her as I was leaving the counselor's office. I had a bunch of pamphlets and papers on adoption and everything, and she saw them. She asked me not to tell you,” you took a deep breath. “and, I thought it over and found that it was the best option for you.”
“Why would you possibly think that the best thing for me was to keep my daughter from me?”
“If I would have told you, you would have insisted that we keep the baby, and you would have given everything up to take care of us.”
“That's what I should have done.”
“I didn't want you to sacrifice your future for me or my child.”
“She's my child too.”
“I know,” you sighed. “but I didn't even know what I wanted to do at the time.” You walked around him and took a seat at the kitchen table. From where you sat, you could see Aurora sitting in the living room. “Declan,” you looked up at him. “I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. There are days when I look at her, and I see so much of you, and I wish that I could go back and change the way I dealt with things.” You looked back at Aurora. “I know this doesn't help, but it hasn't been easy.” You turned to look at him. “Since she could talk, it's like she knew you were missing. One day, after she first learned to talk, she walked over to me, looked up at me with those beautiful blue eyes, and said 'da?'” You looked down. “I didn't know what to say, she was so young, barely able to understand words. I ignored her question. Then, she learned how to form sentences. And one day, after I had picked her up from preschool, she said 'Mommy? Where's my daddy?' What do you tell a three year old when they ask where their father is? I couldn't tell her that her father didn't know that she existed.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her that her daddy couldn't be with us right now.”
Declan took the seat across from you. “I'd like to get to know her.”
You leaned your elbows on the table. “I think that's a great idea, but you can't tell her who you are, at least not right away.”
“Who I am?”
“That you're her father. She's too young, and she won't understand it. And if you decide that it's not what you want,”
“I'm not going to change my mind.”
“Okay, but if you do, or something happens that pulls you away, it'll hurt her a lot more if she knows that you're her father.”
You both stared into each other's eyes.
“All right.” He sighed.
“Thank you.” you stood. “There's another hour until her bed time, so you can start bonding now.”
“Will do.” He stood and walked into the living room. He sat down beside her. “What're you watching?”
“ICarly.”
“Oh yeah, what's it about?”
“Carly and her friend Sam and Freddy have a web show.”
“What's happening now?”
“Carly and Sam are fwilling a watermewwon with air.”
You stood at the sink, listening to Aurora and Declan, and smiled.
...
“She is asleep.” You plopped down on the sofa beside Declan.
“She's adorable.” He smiled at you.
“Thank you, but I'm not the only one who had a part in making her.” You laughed. “I really am sorry about everything.” You nervously pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.
“It's all right,” he placed his hand on your leg. “everything is working itself out.”
“You're serious about this right? About being a part of her life. I don't want your money, I just want you to be a father. That includes showing up at dance recitals and soccer games, and being there on holidays, and taking her out every once in a while. And so much more. You need to be fully committed, she doesn't need a part time father.”
“I don't plan on disappointing you.”
You smiled at him. “Oh! I have some stuff to show you.” You stood and walked down the hall and into your bedroom. You returned a minute later with a big box. You sat it down on the flood in front of Declan, and sat behind it. You pulled out a giant pink scrapbook, and various articles of clothing.
“What's all this?” He scooted down to the floor across from you.
“This is a bunch of things I saved from when Aurora was little.” You showed him a tiny pink dress with ruffles. “This is what she wore when she came home.” You laughed.
“It's adorable.”
“My mom picked it out.” You rolled your eyes and folded it on the floor beside you. You pulled out a couple more outfits, explaining their significance, before putting all of them back in the box, and picking up the photo album. “Okay, here's the good stuff.” You scooted over so that you were sitting next to him, and positioned the book so that it was sitting half on your lap, and half on his.
He turned to the first page.
“This was taken after she was born.” You looked down at the pictures. “She weighed six pounds even, and was thirteen inches long.”
“Is that small?”
“Yeah, it's on the smaller side. She's always been small for her age.”
He turned the page.
You both sat there for two hours flipping through the scrapbook. You explained every picture to him, often stopping to tell a funny story that goes along with one, or a few, pictures.
“I've missed a lot.” Declan closed the book and placed it in the box.
“Nah, the really important stuff hasn't happened yet. Luckily she won't remember much from before she was three.” You could feel Declan's eyes on you. You turned to look at him, and locked eyes with him.
There was silence for a few moments as you both just stared at each other.
Finally, you tore your eyes away from his and stood to put the box away.
“_____,” Declan watched you move.
You squatted behind the box and looked at him.
“I've missed you.” He blushed.
“I've missed you too.”
“I haven't lost my feelings for you.”
You looked down at the box. “Declan, don't say that.”
“It's true. Every relationship I've had since you ended soon after it began.”
You looked up at him, your eyes flooded. “It's too soon to say that.”
He read your eyes and nodded. “I do love you.”
You nodded. “And I'll always love you, you gave me Aurora.”
“Maybe one day we can love each other for more than our daughter.”
“Maybe.” You smiled at him before standing and taking the box back into your bedroom. The tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes quickly dried up, and were replaced by a smile.
Declan watched you walk, and smiled. He was happy to have you back in his life.
link
(this story was not written by me-I don't own)
Tagged: degrassi, babydaddy
Declan.
Before You Read: This is important!
If you see:
“...” between paragraphs, it means that the scene above is over, but the scene below is in the same day.
“- - - -” between paragraphs, it means that the scene above is over, but the scene below is from a different day.
You and Declan sat in his very large, very fancy bedroom. It was wide, and spacey, and decorated with both a manly and sophisticated eye. The room held a king sized bed, a bureau, a walk in closet—which had it's own sofa—a desk, a love seat, an arm chair, a fire place, and a flat screen television. The love seat and arm chair were positioned around the fire place, and the television hung on the wall to the right of the fireplace. He sat on the love seat, leaning slightly into the right arm. You sat next to him, leaning your back against the back of the sofa, with your feet stretched to the left. His left arm rested comfortable around your shoulders, half on the top of the sofa. Your head rested against the left half of his chest.
The television played some trashy horror flick that you'd been dying to see. While you watched the movie, you kept your arms around your neck, so that it didn't take too much effort to cover your eyes when someone was brutally murdered. Whenever you flinched to cover your eyes, Declan looked down at you, laughed, and rubbed your left arm.
The screen went blank and a loud rock and roll guitar solo blasted from the surround sound. As the end credits rolled up the screen you leaned back, resting your head on his lap and looked up at him.
“It's over!” You cheered.
He laughed and bent to press his lips against yours.
You sat up and turned so that you were sitting normally on the sofa. You stretched your arms behind your head and sighed. “Now what?”
He walked to the television and turned it off. He turned to face you, with his hands on his hips and a smirk on his lips. “Well, it's getting kind of late.”
“Is it?” You looked at the clock hanging above the fire place. “Holy shit, it's midnight. I should probably get going.”
“But it's midnight.”
“Yeah?”
“And you live all the way across town.”
“I love ten minutes away.” You laughed.
He walked and stood in front of you. “You could just stay here.”
“What about your parents?” You looked up at him, your brow bent in interest.
“Mr. and Mrs. Coyne are away for the weekend.” He took your hand and pulled you to your feet.
“What about Fiona?”
He pulled you into him. “What about her?” He wrapped his arms around your waist.
You stood on your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Well then,” you sighed. “what did you have in mind?”
He smiled down at you, and pressed his lips hungrily against yours.
You smiled into the kiss, as he slid his hands up your back. You could feel the heat from his skin through your cotton shirt. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, bounced lightly, and wrapped your legs around his waist.
He moved his hands to your lower back, and held you firmly against him. With his lips still connected to yours, he slowly began walking toward the bed.
- - - -
You sat in a sturdy plastic chair across from the school counselor. On your lap you held a binder, on top of which sat a packet of papers and a couple of pamphlets on teen pregnancy. You nervously tapped your nails against the side of the binder.
“Whatever you decide, you can come and talk whenever you need. I can help you with anything you need.” The counselor smiled at you from across her cluttered desk.
“Thank you.” you stood, shifting the binder to your left arm, and grabbed your bag from the floor beside the chair. You slipped it onto your shoulder and exited the office.
As you rounded the hall on your way to your locket, you stared down at the top pamphlet. It was about adoption. You were at the corner when you collided with another body. The binder and everything on top of it fell to the floor.
“Oh!” You bent to pick up your stuff. “I'm sorry.” You looked up as you pulled your binder up, and found Fiona standing in front of you. “Sorry Fi.” You smiled at her.
“What's that?” She looked down at the pamphlets.
“Oh, it's nothing.”
“Does Declan know?” She crossed her arms at her chest.
You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “No, he doesn't know yet.”
“You shouldn't tell him.”
“What?”
“Think about what'll happen when when the press finds out. They'll have a field day, it'll be in every paper you can name. My parents will go completely nuts, I'll be a huge mess.”
The bell rang, signalling the changing of classes.
“I have to get to class.” You looked down the hall as everyone rushed down the hall.
Fiona smiled at you and started down the hall.
You sighed and hurried to your locker. You didn't want anyone to see the papers you held. You got your locker open and shoved the papers in.
Two arms twisted around your waist.
You jumped and turned.
Declan pressed his lips against yours. “Hello.”
You turned, slammed your locker shut, then turned back to him. “Hey.” You sighed.
“What was that?” He laughed.
“Nothing.” You smiled nervously up at him.
He stared into your ____ colored eyes. “Are you okay?”
You looked up into his crystal blue eyes. “Yeah.”
“All right.” He stepped back. “Well, we both have a free period, I thought we'd go and find you something special to wear to the dinner party tonight.”
“Dinner party?”
“My parent's annual spring party.”
“Oh, right. Sounds good.” You smiled up at him. “Let's go.”
He grabbed your hand and led you down the hall. “So I was thinking you could get something red.”
“Red?” You laughed. “Why red?”
“Because no one else will be in red.” He held the passenger side door of his car open for you, then rounded to the driver's side.
“But it's spring, no one wears red in the spring.”
“Lots of people wear red in the spring.”
“Why don't we see what we can find.”
He sighed. “Fine.” He turned the car on and pulled out of the parking spot.
- - - -
You and Declan went out and found a beautiful, slimming, strapless red dress. It fit you perfectly and accentuated every curve of your body. But unfortunately, you never made it to the party.
The time you spent with Declan kept your mind off of your situation, and the conversation that you and Fiona had shared earlier in the day. But as soon as you and Declan parted ways, your focus shifted. You thought out every possible scenario. You imagined what your life would be like for the next ten years if you had an abortion, if you gave the baby up for adoption, if you kept the baby, if you kept the baby and told Declan, if you kept the baby and didn't tell Declan, everything. In the end, you decided that you were against having an abortion, but you didn't know whether or not you wanted to keep the baby, or give it up. But you knew that no matter what you decided, you weren't going to tell Declan.
Telling Declan would cause so much trouble for him and his family. You didn't want to be the most recent reason that the Coynes were in the tabloids. And you didn't want to cause any problems between him and his parents. And you certainly did not want to ruin Declan's future.
After returning to school, you left early. You didn't tell Declan, but you called your mom to come pick you up. You told her that you had something urgent to discuss with her, and she agreed to pick you up.
In the end, your mom promised to help you with whatever you decided. By the end of your conversation, she was actually a little excited. Through brainstorming, you both came up with an easy way for you to keep the baby from Declan. You were going to move in with your grandmother in California. She agreed to help you with the baby. So you went home, packed up your most important possessions—your mom would be sending you everything else later—and made one stop before hopping on a plane. You wrote Declan a letter, explaining why you couldn't attend the party—of course it was some creative lie—it also explained that you were leaving for reasons you couldn't explain, to a place you couldn't name. You stopped at his parent's mansion, and gave the letter to the door man.
...
Declan stood in the center of the mansion's dining room. Every room was filled with fancily dressed socialites and their parents, all of which he had no interest in. He had scanned every room, and had yet to find you. The party had started hours ago. He was beginning to become worried. He scanned the dining room, and coming up empty, decided to check with the door man. He pushed through the three rooms between the dining room and the front entrance. He shared a friendly smile with those who recognized him, but ran from conversation.
“William,” he tapped the tall, thickly built man on the shoulder. “have you seen _____? She's about five five, ____ colored hair. She should be in a tight red dress.”
“I haven't seen anyone fitting that description, but a lady stopped by and asked me to give you this.” William held out the sealed red envelope.
“Thank you.” Declan took the envelope and turned back into the house. He pushed his way through the living room, into the hall, and up to his bedroom. He kicked the door shut and locked it. He crossed to the sofa, plopped down, and opened the envelope.
He recognized your handwriting immediately. His heart raced as he read your curvy cursive words. Your note read:
“Declan,
I'm sorry to do this to you, but I'm not going to make the party. Something has come up, I can't really explain it, but I'm leaving. I'm moving to live with some family members. My parents think it's what's best, and have happily informed me that I have no say in the matter. It kills me to leave on such a big night, after we went out and picked up the dress. It also kills me to leave you at such an amazing part of our relationship. I'm going to miss you greatly, but I'm sorry to tell you that I will not be able to contact you. It's a long, complicated story that I will spare you. Enjoy the party. Knock 'em dead in red.
I Love You,
_____”
Declan folded the letter natly, and replaced it in the red envelope. He rested his arms on his legs, and held his head in his hands.
There was a knocking on his door.
“Declan? Open up, it's me.” Fiona's muffled voice interrupted him.
He stood and walked to the door. He opened it and let Fiona in.
She took one look at him, and knew something was wrong. “What's up? The party's not that boring.” She plopped down on the sofa. She noticed the red envelope sitting on the cushion next to her. “What's this?” She held up the envelope.
“It's from _____.” He sat beside her.
“Where is she? I was dying to see the 'amazing' dress you picked out.”
“She's gone.”
“She was here? How long did she stay?”
“No, she's gone, left the city. Left the country.”
Fiona placed the letter on the couch and looked at her brother. “Oh.”
- - - -
Declan sat in the spacious living room of his Connecticut apartment. He sat on a large black leather couch. He wore sweat pants and a tee. His laptop sat open on his lap, while the fifty inch flat screen across the room was turned on with the volume on low. He was scrolling through a news story, when a request for a video message from Fiona popped up. He accepted.
“Hey.” He smiled into the camera.
“Hello, what are you up to?” Fiona asked.
“Just reading, what about you?”
“The same actually. I called to share something with you.”
“You didn't call, we're video chatting.”
“You know what I mean. Check your email. I sent you the link to a story I'm sure you'll want to read.”
“All right.” He opened a new internet tab, and signed into his email. He opened Fiona's email and clicked the link. He was redirected to a news story. The story was titled: Newest Member of the Coyne Family.
“What is this?” He clicked back to the video chat.
“Keep reading.” She answered cheerily.
He skimmed the article in confusion. “This can't be true.” He went back to Fiona. “Where did they get this information?”
“Scroll down to the pictures.”
“Is that _____?”
“It is.”
“That can't be her.”
“I don't know if it is or not, but I think it's very likely that it is. Listen, Declan, I've got to run, I'll call you in an hour or so.”
“Okay, by Fi.”
The video chat ended.
He read the article again, making sure he hadn't misread it. “I have to see her.” He grabbed his cell phone from the black coffee table in front of him. He dialed a number and held the phone to his ear. “Hello, I'd like to purchase a plane ticket.”
- - - -
You stood in the fenced in front yard of your tiny, cozy, brick, three bed roomed house. Your hair was long, it hung past the middle of your back. You wore a pair of blue, straight legged jeans with a white tank-top, and a blue plaid button down shirt. You held your hands in your back pockets as you watched your four year old daughter play in a tiny square sandbox.
Aurora Coyne _______, sat in a pile of sand. She wore a pair of stained blue jeans with a stained white Dora the Explorer shirt. Her straight, dirty blonde hair hung down her back, stopping an inch past her shoulders.
“Ror, be careful okay? Mommy's gonna go check on dinner.” You called.
“Otay.” Aurora answered, as she picked up a shovel full of sand.
You smiled and walked into the house. You passed through the neatly set up, red living room, stepping over a few Barbies on the way, and walked into the kitchen. Grabbing an oven-mitt, you pulled the oven open and checked on the chicken pieces that were baking in barbque sauce. Next, you checked on the pot of water on the stove, it was boiling. You pulled a box of Parmesan pasta mix from the cabinet above the oven, and poured it into the boiling water. After stirring the noodles in, you walked to the sink and looked out the tiny window above it.
Your heart jumped at the sight of a man dressed in dark washed jeans, a white long sleeved button down, and a black dressy vest. He had shaggy red-ish brown hair, and slightly tanned skin. He was standing at the door of the fence, watching Aurora.
You dashed through the living room and out the front door. You took a few deep breaths before walking further into the yard. “Can I help you?”
He looked up and fixed his gaze on you. He seemed to be studying you.
You noticed his crystal blue eyes, and your heart froze as you recognized him. “Declan?” You whispered.
“_____, hi.” He placed his hands in his pockets.
You walked to the fence, taking a long look at your daughter. “Hi, what are you doing here?”
“I, uh, guess you haven't been online in a few days.”
“No,” you crossed your arms at your chest. “I've been...busy. Why?”
“The word on the street is that the Coyne family has a new, well kind of new, member.” He looked at Aurora.
You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and avoided his beautiful eyes.
“So is it true?”
“Yes.” You looked up at him. “Yes, she's your daughter.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why did you leave?”
From where you stood, you could hear the faint buzzing of the timer in the kitchen.
“I'm in the middle of cooking, would you mind if we continued this inside?”
“Not at all.” He smiled faintly at you, and unlocked the gate.
You began walking into the house. “Come on Ror, it's almost time for dinner.”
Aurora dropped the pink bucket she held on a pile of sand. She stood, dusted off her butt, and skipped into the house.
You and Declan followed her.
“Go wash off in the bathroom.”
She ran down the hall and into the bathroom.
You could hear the scraping of her stood against the tiled floor. You smiled and walked to the oven. You turned the oven off and pulled the baking sheet of chicken onto the stove. You then turned the pasta off, and dumped the excess water into the sink. Before you mixed in the seasoning, you pulled a bag of broccoli from the freezer, poured it in a bowl of water, and shoved it in the microwave.
Declan stood in the doorway of the living room and kitchen. He held his hands in his pockets and studied both rooms. “Cute place.”
You looked back at him. “Thanks.” You stirred the pasta and poured it in a bowl. Then you took the chicken off of the cookie sheet, and placed it on a plate. You sat both on the four seater kitchen table, which was already set with two plates. “Would you like something to eat? There's plenty.”
“Sure.”
You walked to the sink, and pulled a plate from the drain board. You set a place for Declan, across from you and Aurora. “Ror, did you wash up?” You called into the living room.
“Yes.”
“Did you wash your hands?”
“Yes.”
“And your face?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want to drink with dinner?”
Aurora ran into the kitchen. Pushing past Declan, she ran to the fridge and pulled it open. Using both hands, she pulled a two liter container of apple juice from the lowest shelf. “Apple jewce.”
“Okay,” you grabbed the bottle from her, and shut the fridge. “Go sit down, dinner's ready.”
Aurora pulled her seat out, and climbed into it.
Declan took the seat across from your empty place.
You pulled the broccoli from the microwave and fixed it up, then you poured Aurora a glass of apple juice. “ Declan, can I get you something to drink?” You replaced the juice in the fridge, and pulled out a pitcher of water.
“Water is fine, thanks.”
Aurora stared at Declan. “Mommy,”
“Yes?”
“Who is he?”
“Why don't you ask him yourself.” You placed her juice in front of her.
“What's your name?” Aurora folded her hands on the table in front of her.
“My name is Declan, what's yours?” He smiled down at her. He noticed her clear blue eyes and smiled.
“My name is Aurora Coyne ________.”
Declan looked up at you with a smile as you approached the table with two glasses of water and a bowl of broccoli.
“All right, dinner is served.” You took your seat and unfolded your napkin on your lap. You took Aurora's plate and cut up half a chicken breast. Then, you scooped broccoli and noodles onto the plate. You placed it in front of her, then began filling your own plate.
Aurora picked up a square of chicken with her fingers and stuffed it in her mouth.
“Aurora, use your fork.” You took your napkin from your lap and wiped her sauce covered fingers.
She picked up her fork, which was a little too big for her hand, and stabbed at another square of chicken.
Declan watched her intently, smiling.
You kept your eyes locked on Declan. He didn't seem nearly as upset as you thought he would be.
...
Aurora sat on the cream colored sofa in the living room, her eyes fixed intently on the newest episode of iCarly. You stood in the kitchen, gathering the silverware and plates from dinner. Declan helped by carrying bowls and plates to the sink.
“You don't have to do that.” You stood at the sink, preparing to scrub each utensil.
“I'd like to help.” He handed you the last two plates. “Can I dry?”
You smiled at him. “Sure.” You pulled a disk towel from the handle of the oven and tossed I at him. You turned back to the sink and started wetting a sponge. You worked quietly for a few minutes.
“Why did you leave?” He finally broke the silence.
“I, uh, didn't really know what else to do.”
“You could have told me.” His voice was soft and sincere.
You handed him and dish and took the opportunity to look into his eyes. “I did what was best for you.”
“How do you know what's best for me?” His tone was still sweet.
“I didn't want to ruin your future.” You spoke into the sink.
“I can't hear you.”
You continued to scrub a plate, not quite sure what to say.
Declan reached across the sink and pushed the handle, turning the water off.
You stood with your hands in the sink, staring down at the escaping water.
“Why did you leave without telling me anything?”
You looked down at your soapy hands. “I thought it was for the best.”
“Why?”
You could feel his eyes on you. You turned, grabbed the towel from him, and dried your hands. “Fiona pointed out that if I told you, the tabloids would make something out of nothing.”
“Fiona? She knows.”
“I ran into her as I was leaving the counselor's office. I had a bunch of pamphlets and papers on adoption and everything, and she saw them. She asked me not to tell you,” you took a deep breath. “and, I thought it over and found that it was the best option for you.”
“Why would you possibly think that the best thing for me was to keep my daughter from me?”
“If I would have told you, you would have insisted that we keep the baby, and you would have given everything up to take care of us.”
“That's what I should have done.”
“I didn't want you to sacrifice your future for me or my child.”
“She's my child too.”
“I know,” you sighed. “but I didn't even know what I wanted to do at the time.” You walked around him and took a seat at the kitchen table. From where you sat, you could see Aurora sitting in the living room. “Declan,” you looked up at him. “I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. There are days when I look at her, and I see so much of you, and I wish that I could go back and change the way I dealt with things.” You looked back at Aurora. “I know this doesn't help, but it hasn't been easy.” You turned to look at him. “Since she could talk, it's like she knew you were missing. One day, after she first learned to talk, she walked over to me, looked up at me with those beautiful blue eyes, and said 'da?'” You looked down. “I didn't know what to say, she was so young, barely able to understand words. I ignored her question. Then, she learned how to form sentences. And one day, after I had picked her up from preschool, she said 'Mommy? Where's my daddy?' What do you tell a three year old when they ask where their father is? I couldn't tell her that her father didn't know that she existed.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her that her daddy couldn't be with us right now.”
Declan took the seat across from you. “I'd like to get to know her.”
You leaned your elbows on the table. “I think that's a great idea, but you can't tell her who you are, at least not right away.”
“Who I am?”
“That you're her father. She's too young, and she won't understand it. And if you decide that it's not what you want,”
“I'm not going to change my mind.”
“Okay, but if you do, or something happens that pulls you away, it'll hurt her a lot more if she knows that you're her father.”
You both stared into each other's eyes.
“All right.” He sighed.
“Thank you.” you stood. “There's another hour until her bed time, so you can start bonding now.”
“Will do.” He stood and walked into the living room. He sat down beside her. “What're you watching?”
“ICarly.”
“Oh yeah, what's it about?”
“Carly and her friend Sam and Freddy have a web show.”
“What's happening now?”
“Carly and Sam are fwilling a watermewwon with air.”
You stood at the sink, listening to Aurora and Declan, and smiled.
...
“She is asleep.” You plopped down on the sofa beside Declan.
“She's adorable.” He smiled at you.
“Thank you, but I'm not the only one who had a part in making her.” You laughed. “I really am sorry about everything.” You nervously pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.
“It's all right,” he placed his hand on your leg. “everything is working itself out.”
“You're serious about this right? About being a part of her life. I don't want your money, I just want you to be a father. That includes showing up at dance recitals and soccer games, and being there on holidays, and taking her out every once in a while. And so much more. You need to be fully committed, she doesn't need a part time father.”
“I don't plan on disappointing you.”
You smiled at him. “Oh! I have some stuff to show you.” You stood and walked down the hall and into your bedroom. You returned a minute later with a big box. You sat it down on the flood in front of Declan, and sat behind it. You pulled out a giant pink scrapbook, and various articles of clothing.
“What's all this?” He scooted down to the floor across from you.
“This is a bunch of things I saved from when Aurora was little.” You showed him a tiny pink dress with ruffles. “This is what she wore when she came home.” You laughed.
“It's adorable.”
“My mom picked it out.” You rolled your eyes and folded it on the floor beside you. You pulled out a couple more outfits, explaining their significance, before putting all of them back in the box, and picking up the photo album. “Okay, here's the good stuff.” You scooted over so that you were sitting next to him, and positioned the book so that it was sitting half on your lap, and half on his.
He turned to the first page.
“This was taken after she was born.” You looked down at the pictures. “She weighed six pounds even, and was thirteen inches long.”
“Is that small?”
“Yeah, it's on the smaller side. She's always been small for her age.”
He turned the page.
You both sat there for two hours flipping through the scrapbook. You explained every picture to him, often stopping to tell a funny story that goes along with one, or a few, pictures.
“I've missed a lot.” Declan closed the book and placed it in the box.
“Nah, the really important stuff hasn't happened yet. Luckily she won't remember much from before she was three.” You could feel Declan's eyes on you. You turned to look at him, and locked eyes with him.
There was silence for a few moments as you both just stared at each other.
Finally, you tore your eyes away from his and stood to put the box away.
“_____,” Declan watched you move.
You squatted behind the box and looked at him.
“I've missed you.” He blushed.
“I've missed you too.”
“I haven't lost my feelings for you.”
You looked down at the box. “Declan, don't say that.”
“It's true. Every relationship I've had since you ended soon after it began.”
You looked up at him, your eyes flooded. “It's too soon to say that.”
He read your eyes and nodded. “I do love you.”
You nodded. “And I'll always love you, you gave me Aurora.”
“Maybe one day we can love each other for more than our daughter.”
“Maybe.” You smiled at him before standing and taking the box back into your bedroom. The tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes quickly dried up, and were replaced by a smile.
Declan watched you walk, and smiled. He was happy to have you back in his life.