Page 123 of Point of No Return

A cold breeze floats out toward me, and dread fills my veins as I come to terms with what’s happening. She had no intention of meeting with me. Whatever lies on the other side of that door is my own damn fault. The product of my own weakness, my inability to let himgo. I knew a long time ago what my mother would do if I failed. And I’ve never been scared of it until now.

But I accept my fate, letting the door swing open. It’s dark inside, the moonlight filtering in through the curtains I drew closed before I left. Thunder booms and lightning flashes, illuminating the apartment. The door clicks shut behind me, and I curse as I realize my gun is still stashed beneath the sofa in the living area- more than twenty feet down the hall.

It’s probably nothing, no one, I tell myself as I carefully take a few steps inside. In the dark, I search for anything out of the ordinary.

I pass my room as I creep further into the apartment and find my bag where I left it. Another crack of lightning reveals my coat exactly where I left it on its perch. The corner of the sofa comes into view as I creep closer.

My steps are silent, ears listening for any sound. It’s quiet. Too quiet. I silently reach for my pistol beneath the couch just as a voice pipes up from behind:

“Five months.”

Everything in me shatters as I turn, gun poised and aimed at the voice.

Please no.

Even in the shadows, I can see the outline of his body in the arm chair. All lean lines, rough edges, and cool indifference.

My husband is just as imposing as I remember him. And when he stands and lightning casts over him, I can see he’s just as handsome. He has the same dark, tousled hair, and his piercing eyes are perfectly trained on me. My hands shake, the pistol unsteady as I aim it.

“You’ve been gone five months, and it’s like a hole has been torn through everything.”

Just the sound of his voice is enough to bring me to my knees. I shake my head as he steps forward. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Will you shoot me?” he taunts, though he huffs a quiet laugh.

The sound is a caress, and I know if it comes down to it, I won’t be strong enough. I’ve dreamt of him every night since the last- and never once have I been able to forgive myself for what I did.

Yet he’s here. He’s alive. He came.

In the dark, I can see him smile as he takes a step closer. “Stop,” I whisper, and he does. “I will shoot.”

Lies.Such lies, and he must see it too.

“I didn’t make the same mistake twice.” As he says it, I hear the thump of the bullets as he deposits them on the table, rendering the weapon in my hand useless. “You still hide your gun in the same place.”

I feel stripped bare, every heartache, every jagged piece of me laid before him. I lower the pistol, but he doesn’t move toward me.

“You can’t be here," my voice quakes as I speak, and I curse myself as I step back. “Leave. You need to leave.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere, Charlie.”

My heart squeezes and feelings come rushing back before I can stop them. Tears threaten to fall, and I’m glad for the shroud of darkness around us.

I make one last move toward the kitchen- toward the knives there- but his voice stops me. “I swear to god, if you move again, I will tie you to the chair myself.”

I’m frozen, unable to move, unable to escape, unable to look him in the eye.

“I looked for you- everyday,” his voice is hoarse. “Everyday.”

A silent tear falls down my face. “I don’t want to be found.”

“Bullshit,” he takes another step forward. “I found you-”

“I tried to kill you.”

“I’m alive.”

“I poisoned Aleks-”

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