Page 167 of The Wishing Game

There's one last intact piece of the mirror in front of me, my pathetic reflection staring back and taunting me with all my shortcomings. I should have never left the hacienda. How did I survive when everyone else died? Why the hell am I still here?

Images of my last day at the hacienda flash before my eyes. Instead of saving Noelle, I doomed her to a worse fate. And it was all because I left when I shouldn't have; it was all because I let Nikki convince me to leave.

It should have been me who died in that fire, not Noelle.

From the start, it should have been me...

My hands wander around the floor, picking up a piece of glass and tracing my fingers around the sharp edge. The pain helps, the familiar sting jolting me back to the past—to an era I can't possibly forget.

The door to my room bursts open, Nikki charging inside with a wild expression on his face. He's wearing a three-piece suit, looking dashing for what was supposed to be a happy occasion.

His eyes widen as he sees me hunched over in my bloodied dress, holding tightly onto the sharp glass in my hand.

"Luce, sweetheart..." he whispers in a ragged, pained voice.

He falls to his knees beside me, unclasps my fingers from around the glass, and throws it aside. My blood transfers onto his hands, seeping into his skin, forging yet another connection between us.

"What's wrong? What's happening?" he asks, breathing harshly.

"I can't do this, Nikki..." I sob. "I can't do this..."

"What? What is it? Tell me and we'll fix it," he tells me in a pleading tone, his eyes glistening with tears as he takes in my disheveled appearance.

"I can't marry you," I whisper, slowly raising my gaze to his. My throat is dry and painful as I force the words out. Yet the devastation that strikes his features pains me even more.

"W-what? What do you mean?" he speaks slowly, his lips trembling.

"I can't do it, Nikki. I can't..." I break down even more, the tears flowing down my face. "How can you marry me? How can you stand to look at me?"

"Luce, I don't understand. What's wrong? What prompted this? We were fine this morning. We..."

"It should have been me, Nikki. I should have died. Not Noelle..." I cry out.

"How can yousaythat?" he rasps, pulling back and looking as if I'd physically struck him. "How can you even think that?"

"Because it's the truth. She should have lived to be with her baby. She should have lived, not me." I take a deep breath. "She had a family. People who loved her. And I..."

"You what, Luce? You what?" he demands in a rough voice.

"I..." I blink slowly.

"Finish your sentence."

"I have no one," I utter in a low, barely audible voice. Shame eats at me as I avert my eyes, not wanting to see the disappointment in his.

"You have no one?" he asks bitterly, letting go of my arms and stepping away from me. "Is that what you think? That you have no one?"

"No, Nikki... I didn't mean it like that." I shake my head.

He squeezes his eyes shut, the pain in his expression ripping a hole in my heart.

"I've done all you asked of me. You wanted time. I gave it to you. You wanted to grieve, I let you grieve. But how much longer will you punish yourself for this? How much longer will you punishme?"

"Nikki... I'm sorry," I say, bringing my hands to my face to wipe the tears away, but in the process, I'm only smearing more blood on my skin. "I didn't mean it like that..."

"What did you mean then?" His features darken. "One year, five months, two days, and ten hours. That's how long it's been since the fire. That's how long it's been since..." He takes a deep breath, scrubbing his hand over his face. "That's how long it's been since you let me touch you."

My lashes flutter in distress as I register the pain and frustration in his voice.