Page 83 of Even Angels fall
But it also doesn’t make sense. Michaël said that Elhyor’s father committed suicide, but then, how did his father do it? The only way would have been him being “helped” by his son, but then it would hardly qualify as suicide....
“I know what your father expects of you. I think I knew even before you tried to attack me. I just didn’t want to believe he could be like this.”
Why is he telling me all of this? I don’t want to hear any of it. I’ve barely slept, I’m on edge, and I’ve been holding tears inside since Michaël departed after the wedding.
Elhyor has no right to talk about any of this.
Yes, I planned on killing him, but I’m not completely sure I could still do it. I love Léandre, I do. He’s my best friend, my brother, my confidant, and I know I’ll suffer more from his brain beingerasedthan he will, since he won’t remember, but am I ready to let him forget me? If his memories aren’t here anymore, I’m losing him the same way as if he died, and if I lose him, am I going to survive another year, another week, or even another day in this world?
If no one knows what happened to me, does it make it any less real?
I don’t realize I’m crying until Elhyor’s hand comes into contact with my cheek and softly wipes the tear away.
“I know how much you care about him,” Elhyor says as I feel him press against my dagger. His shirt now has a hole in the middle, and like the single tear traveling down my other cheek, there is a single drop of blood dripping from the wound my blade has started to make, but Elhyor isn’t moving away. If anything, he keeps pressing against my dagger, his hand over mine.
“I know how much you care about him,” he repeats. “And as much as I’d like to live, I’d much prefer for you to be happy, wife.”
What is happening?
“What?” I ask in astonishment. I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this, or maybe I do, but I don’t want to believe it.
“You were just too much on the right,” he says with a sad smile that Ido not wantto understand. “Just keep pressing and your friend will be safe. Just keep pressing and you’re free.”
I try to remove my hand from the dagger, but he’s still holding it against his chest. Now that I know what he is doing, I’m not so sure I want it. I’m not so sure I ever wanted it.
“No,” I say with a gasp.
“Yes,” he answers. “You can kill me now and everything is over. But don’t go back to your father. Run with Léandre. Run as far as you can and never come back. Travel. Live. Love. Don’t waste the life I’m giving you. Live it to the fullest.”
He forces my hand to hold my dagger, and slowly, he gets closer to me. I’m trying to get away. I push him with my other hand, but he grabs it, too, and holds it away so he can advance a bit more. It’s slow and torturous, because I can see the blade entering his skin, millimeter by millimeter, and I hate that this is mine. I hate that I held it against him in the first place. And maybe, I hate that he’s making me do that, too, because I don’t want to kill him.
I wasn’t sure a few minutes ago that I would still be able to go through with killing him. Now, I’m sure I can’t and yet, he’s making me, and…
”I don’t want to lose you…” I whisper in a broken voice.
I know there’s no real reason for me to react this way. Elhyor is no one. He shouldn’t even be important in my life. I’ve known him for just over a week, and yet, I can’t.
Maybe I’m not the monster everyone thinks I am, after all, because I can’t do it. It’s not because I’m a coward, no, it’s because of him.
Yes, he pinned me to a cross, but when he realized I wouldn’t heal normally, he got a doctor. He healed me. He didn’t make me a prisoner after I actually tried to kill him. He gave me space and comfort. He let me fight my own battles and saved me when he had enough.
It’s only been a week, and yet he’s been here for me more in a week than my own father in my whole life.
I should hate him, because I’m going to lose my best friend because of him, and yet, I can’t.
“Don’t make me kill you,” I say, my voice is barely above a whisper and it’s so broken that I don’t think I could get more sound out. “I’ll hate myself more than I already do.”
My tears are flowing freely now that Elhyor is holding both my hands, but I don’t care.
I don’t cry often, but I’m too tired and devastated to stop, because I know now, tonight I’ll lose my best friend, but I can’t kill Elhyor.
I think I might need my husband in my life.
53
Angélique
The thought has barely crossed my mind that I feel Elhyor’s hand loosen around mine. He doesn’t take a step back, though. Instead, he twists our hands with his and moves them out of the way.
