Page 254 of Nemesync
Zanae managed a small smile. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll be fine here.”
I leaned in closer to her and kissed her softly. “Don’t get lost in your thoughts for too long,Milaya. I don’t like seeing you alone in there.”
She returned the kiss and waved goodbye as Nikolai, and I stepped into the elevator. We’ll have to talk about it when I get back.
I saw it in her eyes – they turned cold.
She was here physically but emotionally distant.
44
ZANAE
What do I have left now? Nothing.
There was no way out from my own self.
I make my way to the bathroom, confronting my reflection in the mirror. The emptiness in my eyes is tragic, and the realization hits me so hard; I can’t keep doing this.
I’m a danger to anyone who gets too close, and though I don’t understand why, I know that my absence could bring them more peace than my love could ever.
My soul bleeds, but I am so numb that no blood comes out. This despair, hopelessness, and silence drowned me before I could even understand them.
I can’t help but think of those people I love. Niko, the man who appeared out of nowhere and became a constant in my life—a friend, a brother.
Miranda, my only friend since Luna’s death, a woman I’ll always be proud of, an example of strength, and the woman I love. My baby June, a little boy who made me see the beauty of life through the eyes of a child.
Ben, my lovely human who always saved me and loved me like a friend before even knowing me fully.
Even Brian, who cares about me more than my own flesh.
And then, there’s Elijah, the most impactful of all. The man who showed me how enjoyable life can be, how love can bring joy and happiness.
Who would have thought that the devil himself would make life more bearable, when God abandoned me to my own suffering and endless remorse all my life?
He painted my brokenness like a beautiful masterpiece—enough to be loved by him, but never enough to redeem all these years of constant abuse.
He made me realize my worth and the beauty of finding a soulmate. And if I had to describe love to someone. I would use his name.
He owns my soul, and even in death, I’ll always live in his heart, waiting for him, even in hell, to touch the love of my life once more.
But it’s too late.
I can almost imagine myself in a graveyard, facing my own headstone. Maybe they’ll place dahlias and lilies for the first few years, then eventually stop and forget I ever existed.
I take a deep breath and lean against the sink. “You’re too broken to heal, Zanae,” I whisper to my reflection.
I needed to find this out alone.
I can’t do it anymore, I can’t.
I’m tired, exhausted,dying.
I can’t live my life surviving.
Do I really want to die?
‘You’re already dead Zanae.’ The voice replies, cold and certain.
