Without warning, tears pour from her eyes. Her lower lip curls and she bows inward, hands rising to catch her face. A nasty sob cuts through the room.
It’s the most heartbreaking thing I’ve heard in my life.
She gulps loudly and then drops her hands, shuddering through one painful wave after another. She might be crying, but she hardly looks weak—she looks like a furious goddess disturbed by an equally powerful deity.
The sobs subside enough for her to speak.
“That’s all I ever wanted,” she says quietly. “To hear you say it out loud.”
My brows knit together. Could it really be that simple? I could have said it a million times by now if she had told me that. I start to speak, but she cuts me off, her face contorting.
“And now that I’ve heard it…” She meets my gaze with a fierce expression. “I don’t believe it.”
That’s the final dagger she buries in my heart. That’s what sends me to the door.
If she doesn’t believe me, then I have nothing left to lose.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Liya
Heat flushes my cheeks. The air is set to an arctic temperature, reminding me that I don’t have my favorite knit cardigan. I don’t have any of my usual comforts, for that matter. I don’t even have a home to speak of.
I love you, Liya.
Irritation rips through me.
I’ve always loved you.
Hearing him speak in my mind infuriates me.Liar. Monster.
In one breath, he says he loves me, and in another, he says he will hunt my baby and me to the ends of the earth. And why wouldn’t he? The way he was raised, I’m surprised he can even mutter the words out loud.
What the hell kind of twisted love is this?
Has he ever said those words to anyone? My features soften.Has he ever heard them from anyone other than me?
Pity mingles with regret. It’s odd to feel while I watch the driveway below, waiting for that familiar strip of light to spill over the yard from the foyer. I hug myself as the wind whistles at the windows.
He’ll leave soon.My cheek twitches. I tremble as a cool breeze tickles the back of my neck.Then I can text Willow.
I’m practically holding my breath as I stare at the dark grass. Everything seems so dead in here, even if life is bursting at the seams outside. The sounds of evening traffic reach my ears, mingled with the rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore.
The strip of light appears. Shadowy figures cross the yard and head for the cars parked on the street. The alarm downstairs beeps twice and then turns silent. The front door shuts. The whole house seems to hold its breath with me.
And then they leave.
With a deep breath, I text Willow. “I’m ready.”
Two little words. Yet a world of meaning hangs in them.
Her response comes almost immediately. “You’ve texted me that every night for the past four days.”
“I have to go tonight, Willow. I can’t stay here.”
Three dots appear. Then disappear. Then they dance across the screen again. I bite my thumb while watching my best friend hesitate. Is she backing out? Or is she trying to find the words to convince me out of this plan?
“Okay,” she finally responds. “What’s the plan?”