“He should have,” I whispered brokenly. “We talked about it, but he never proposed. He wanted to wait until we were out of school and more settled in our careers.”
I rubbed my face against Tor’s hard chest, trying to soothe away some of the pain throbbing in my head.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He always worried about me. My safety. My happiness. How does that go away in a few days? How can he just decide not to love me anymore?”
The last words were choked, and I gave up speaking and let the tears fall in earnest.
Eventually, the tears dried up, and a numbness settled in. It pulled me into the welcome escape of sleep. The dreams were a mix of happy Adam moments and running for my life from infected. Both were easier to deal with than my current reality, which reinserted itself the moment I opened my eyes the next morning.
Adam isn’t here. He’s gone. He’s left me.
A fresh torrent of tears washed over my puffy eyes. The same question I’d spoken out loud echoed in my head. After three years together, how could he suddenly decide we were done?
An arm slithered under my side. I didn’t care who or why. It could have been an infected for all it mattered, and I wouldn’t have moved. I hurt too much. Which is why I didn’t fight when I was picked up, blankets and all.
Tor looked down at me, his expression deeply troubled. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see his concern, and didn’t open them again when he started walking. I didn’t care where he was taking me. I hurt so much nothing else mattered.
The world had ripped everything from me. My home. My family. My future. Adam was the only thing I’d had left. And now he was gone too.
A door opened, and fresh air cooled my overheated face. I didn’t want the relief. I wanted Adam. Turning my head into Tor’s chest, I cried harder. The cadence of his step increased and then stopped.
My head hurt almost as much as my heart.
“She won’t stop crying,” Tor said.
“Why?”
I barely registered the voice.
“Adam hurt her heart.”
The sympathetic sound increased my tears.
“Bring her in and set her on the couch.”
Tor did more than put me down, he stripped the blankets from me, revealing Angel’s understanding face.
“Come here, you,” she said, opening her arms.
I hugged her hard and continued to cry as she stroked my hair.
“Men are assholes,” she murmured. “I’ll teach you to use my bow so you can shoot him in the dick.”
There were twin pained breaths in response to that comment.
“Angel, no dick shooting.”
“Based on how she’s crying, it’s shooting or cutting it off.”
I partially laughed through my tears at the absurdity of her comment. She heard it and pulled back enough to look me in the eye.
“You want to tell me about it?”
Something about the understanding in her expression hit me hard, and I realized that was exactly what I needed. Someone to listen. Someone to tell me what went wrong. Someone who would understand.
But I hesitated and glanced at the two fey watching me with matching concern. There were some things I couldn’t say in front of them. Not without possibly jeopardizing Adam’s and my place in Tolerance.
“Could I speak to Angel privately? With no one else listening?” A hitched breath interrupted every other word.