I sag in his arms, breathing hard.
“I raped you because I needed to play along. To let him think I would do anything he asked, and you didn’t matter. But I know the reasons don’t change how much it hurts.” My lips wobble. My eyes burn. “I know because you hurt me to save Khalid, and it didn’t fuckingmatter.
“So don’t fucking say youunderstand. I understand that you wanted to save Khalid. But you hurt me. So I know I hurt you.” I shake with all the pain. All the guilt and shame and self-disgust. I hurt him, and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to confront that part of me to even say sorry becausesorryreminds me of Grubs, and I can’t –
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. Too long, and his arms start to feel constricting. Like a prison. His silence like rejection.
I struggle free so I can wipe at my tearless eyes, my back to him. “I would die for you,” I mutter. And he won’t even talk for me.
Grabbing my elbow, he turns me around and tilts my chin up. I look into his single eye as he looks into my red ones. Both so wrong...
“I don’t want you to die for me, Micha,” he says softly. “I want you to live for me. I want you to fuckinglive.”
“I’m aliv–”
“But you’re not living.” He leans his forehead down to mine. His eyes close as he shudders against me. His thumbs brush across my skin, and I can almost feel his pain echoing through me. “I just want you tolive.”
My body trembling, I close my eyes and fight back the tears. I don’t need therapy because I don’t need to face any of this. I just need to move on.
But how can I deny him when I can see his pain?
When he holds me like this and makes me feel less of the monster I am?
“I’ll… I’ll go toonesession,” I whisper, my voice thick, my throat tight. If he wants to believe in me… maybe that’ll be enough to save me.
Seventy-Four
HER
“I don’t need fucking therapy,” I say as I flump into the chair across Maddox’s desk that he has set up in his room. “I’m fine.” There’s nothing wrong with me. I survived. I fucking did it. No one will understand what I went through, so talking about it won’t fix a damn thing.Ialready fixed it when I killed Antonio and all his chimeras.Idid that. No therapy fucking needed. “I don’t need to be here,” I say.
Maddox nods, his agreement taking me by surprise. The rush of relief I was expecting to feel doesn’t come though. I feel even more irritable and confused. Like he failed me. Like I’ve yet again been left on my own, abandoned to save myself even though I’m the one who pushed him away.
Fuck this.
I shove to my feet, wanting to get out of here. I don’t like this at all.
I was fine before I came into this room. I’ll be fine again as soon as I leave.
Maddox starts to stand too. “It’s understandable to be too scared to confront your enemy right now. I’ll tell Varius you aren’t –”
“I’m not scared,” I snap. “And I killed the enemy.”
“You killed Antonio’s body. You didn’t kill his soul. You are keeping that alive inside you.”
I rear back as if he’d slapped me. My teeth clench tight as my throat burns. I hate that analogy. Hate the truth of it.
Hate how Antonio still feels so godsdamnalive.
How his touch lingers in my soul, entwined.
Like I’m stillprotectinghim.
Unable to let him go.
My hands shake as I try to find the words – any words to convince him that’s not true.
“But it’s okay, Micha,” Maddox says as he straightens, his tone light and without judgement despite being able to see right through me. He can seeme. The shame, the sickness still clawing at my veins. I know he can. I can feel his eyes on my soul, and yet, he doesn’t look at me like I’mwrong.He doesn’t look at me how I look at myself, with these damn eyes that aren’t mine.