I woke at 3 AM to an empty bed.
Not unusual, in itself. Declan often worked late, sometimes didn't come to bed at all. But something felt different. Wrong. The penthouse was too quiet.
I checked his office. Empty.
The kitchen. Empty.
The living room. Empty.
Then I heard it. A sound from the nursery. Soft. Muffled. Crying.
I ran.
The door was open. Inside, Declan sat in the rocking chair, Marcus in his arms, both of them crying.
Not Marcus. Just Declan. Marcus was asleep, peaceful, oblivious.
"Declan?"
He looked up. His eyes were red, swollen, desperate.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't." I crossed the room, knelt beside him. "What happened?"
He shook his head. Swallowed.
"Nightmare," he finally whispered. "The same one. My mother leaving. But this time " Hi
