It shouldn’t hurt me. There was a time when I didn’t think I was capable of love. And even when I realized I loved Kai, I never told her. I kept it to myself because I thought it was the only way to keep her safe.
How wrong I was.
In a way, it’s only fair the second I decide to tell her I love her is when she no longer has feelings for me.
But when she loved me and I couldn’t say it back, it didn’t stop her from telling me any chance she got. And so I won’t withhold my own feelings no matter how hard it is for me to say.
Because maybe, somewhere deep down inside, Kai does still love me. And I want that tiny seed to grow, until it spreads through her entire body again. Even if I don’t deserve her love—because I failed.
“I love you, stingray. Even if you don’t love me back. Even if you can never love me back, I love you.”
She stares at me unblinking. Her lips don’t even twitch to say anything back. This is a one-sided conversation.
No, Kai and I share a connection I’ve never experienced with any other person before. I don’t need her words to understand her. I don’t need her touch to feel her. I can feel her aura without needing touch or words. Just breathe her in.
But despite sitting so close to her, I don’t feel anything—not anymore. I can’t feel how fast her heart is beating. Unless I focus intently on her chest, I can’t tell how quickly she is breathing. Her eyes are blank, giving nothing away behind her green eyes. Her body isn’t drawn to me like it was before.
I can’t read her at all.
“I’m sorry, Kai. You can’t believe how incredibly sorry I am for letting Milo hurt you. I should have been stronger. I should have saved you sooner. I should have protected you. A better man would have.” My voice cracks with each word. For the past month, I’ve been beating myself up about what I should have done. I shouldn’t have waited.
I thought waiting was the right choice. I needed to regain her trust. I needed to show her she was in control of her own life. That I trusted her to make her own decisions. But I failed her in the process.
Milo might still be alive, but Kai would still be mine. I don’t know how Milo accomplished it, but he held his promise. He took her from me. Kai no longer loves me. She no longer breathes for me. She no longer longs for me.
It should have been me.
I should have been the one Milo broke, not Kai. But in the end, he chose her. And I think Milo knew he would never really become Black. That he would never rule. He was always destined to break Kai and me apart, even though he knew he wouldn’t survive the betrayal himself.
I stare at Kai as the weight of what I let Milo do to her settles between us. My guilt has never been so strong. Not when I realized that Kai’s father had sold her. Not when I made the same mistake myself and sold her to Milo, even though I saved her after. This—this is my greatest regret.
But this—I can’t heal her if she won’t let me in. Not even into the outer edges of herself. Not even into the bubble of her personal space.
I sigh when again Kai doesn’t say anything nor react to my words.
“What do you need me to do, Kai? Tell me, and I’ll do it. Write it down if you can’t say it. Tell Liesel, and she’ll pass along the message. I don’t care what it is. If you need to punish me for what I did, then punish me. If you need me to push you slowly and gradually each day like I did before until you can talk and touch me again, then I will. If you need me to be patient and wait for you to come to me, I will. I can hire the best therapists in the world if that’s what you need. If you are done with the stupid games we play for Black; I’ll find a way to get you out of finishing. If you want to play our truth or lies game, I will. But I can’t help you if you don’t let me in. You don’t have to say anything. Just give me a nod if I’m doing the right thing.”
Nothing.
Blink.
Blink blink.
Blink blink blink.
That’s her only movement—blinking. The only sign she is even alive. Her breathing is so weak I can’t even see her chest rise and fall.
I lean forward in my chair with my hands in my lap, inching just the tiniest bit closer but not touching her. Not invading her space. But even the small inch closer makes my own heart beat rapidly and painfully in my chest. I’m so close, yet so far.
“This is killing me, Kai. You’re the only thing in my world that matters anymore. I’m this close to giving Langston the power to run the empire, and running off with you to live on an island somewhere. As long as the people who depend on me are safe and taken care of. And Langston can do the job as well as you and I ever could.”
Her blinking stops.
Yes! This is how she will communicate with me—through blinking. It’s the tiniest of gestures, but when she first arrived in my house months ago so broken and beaten, she could only give the most minimal of gestures. This is no different.
All I needed was a drop of hope. This is it—my hope.
“You don’t want Langston to become the leader?” I ask.