Page 68 of Dominion

“I cannot tell you how sorry I am,” I continued reading, my eyes furiously skimming over his words. “I know this will hurt, and I’m sorry. I will spend the rest of my life, however long it is, regretting everything I did to you, regretting this one last choice of mine, but I have to do it. You wanted to see the best in me, and I loved every single moment we shared, but my life wasn’t made for happy ever afters and relationships with two people I have hurt. My sole purpose was to be a soldier for the Order and that’s where I’m going again. I am sorry for the heartache and all the hate, but I want you to leave, go somewhere else. Forget about Judah, forget about me, forget about fucking Winworth. Go and live your lives somewhere else. I know Casimir can make it happen and I know you will be happier far away from this god-forsaken place. And forgive me whenever you feel ready, because I know I will never be able to forgive myself for abandoning the best thing that has ever happened in my life.

Yours forever,

Dylan.”

White noise was all that existed in my ears, mixed with the soft sobs from Skylar and an eternal anger that I knew wouldn’t leave my body. He was trying to be a martyr, giving us his fucking blessing for a life without him, telling us to abandon the one thing that we all needed to do.

He went back to him, to that motherfucking scum.

I squeezed my fist around the letter, shoving it inside the pocket of my pants just before I wrapped my arms around Skylar, holding her tight. Tighter than ever before.

“It’s okay, baby girl. It’s gonna be okay. We are going to be okay.” And if I had to spend every last moment of my life showing her that she had nothing to fear because she would always have me, then so be it.

Dylan made his bed, he made his choice, and no matter how much this heartbreak threatened to shatter the fragile temporary peace we were living in, I was determined not to let it destroy everything. I was determined not to let it destroy Skylar.

Because she was all I had left. Her and Sebastian.

22

SKYLAR

I had often readabout out-of-body experiences, where people would just go through the motions but their hearts and their minds would be somewhere else. I thought that my past experiences were ugly enough, so that whatever came next wouldn’t be a surprise. It wouldn’t break my heart, leaving me to bleed out, taken over by a grief so terrible that it had made it hard to breathe.

I bled out on the floor in that little chalet where all my dreams ceased to exist. I stopped breathing when Ash wrapped his arms around me, while both of us shattered in pieces, leaving our hearts there.

There was no point in staying in the chalet for one more night when both of us kept looking at the door, expecting Dylan to walk in, to tell us that he had made a mistake. That he shouldn’t have left. That he loved us like we fucking loved him.

But he never did.

The door stayed shut for half of the day, both of us unable to move from the little couch there, our eyes plastered to the hard wooden surface.

I had no idea who he talked to on the phone, and I had no idea how the car came so quickly, but at five o’clock, we had ourbags loaded into a black SUV in front of the reception, leaving without saying a word to each other. Ash kept me close during the drive, never once letting go of my hand. When the tires screeched in front of that house we first were in, when my eyes landed on Cillian’s face, who was waiting on the front porch with his hands in his front pockets, I knew that it wasn’t just a bad dream I could wake up from.

I knew it wasn’t a nightmare I had dreaded for so long.

Dylan was gone and there was nothing I could do about it.

I had no idea if this tightness in my chest was from sadness or from anger, but whatever it was, it helped me to get out of the car and walk toward the entrance without breaking in front of everyone else. There were no words spoken. No sorries or apologies.

Our eyes told the story of what had happened, and even Cillian knew that he shouldn’t say anything to the two people stricken with grief.

Between that afternoon and the early morning when I got up to drink some water, only to find the note Dylan had left, I had lost my compass. I had no idea which direction I should start heading toward. There was no point in even trying to think about the future when everything right now made it impossible to breathe.

My body ached as I walked inside the house, ignoring the look from Casimir and his men who were standing inside, keeping their mouths shut. A part of me worried that he would gloat, that he would tell meI told you so, but he didn’t, and I was more grateful than I could ever put into words. I was grateful that I could grieve without having to expend any more energy on meaningless conversations.

But that was three weeks ago.

Three weeks of sleepless nights.

Three weeks of worried looks.

Three weeks of soft touches from Ash and hushed voices whenever they heard me coming.

Three weeks of mending my broken heart.

Three weeks of tears and aching pain in the center of my chest.

Three weeks of fucking breathing but barely existing.

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