Desiree watched the shadows cast by the firelight dance across his face as he thought about the question.
But even after an uncomfortable space of time, he did not answer.
“Declan…” she began trying to find the right words. Words that would land where they needed to to get him to open up and talk to her. “I love you. Whatever magic I may or may not have has nothing to do with what I feel. What I feel for you is fated.”
“Then why did you ask me to let you go?”
The question was unexpected and disorienting.
“What are you talking about?”
“When you found out about Candela, that we weren’t really married. You told me that if I truly loved you then I would let you go.”
“Because I was hurt and embarrassed. I thought maybe I’d been wrong this whole time. Because you didn’t recognize me, you weren’t honest with me, and… you don’t dream about me.”
“Dream?”
I still have dreams about you,” she admitted.
“What kind of dreams?”