Voices fade.
My knees nearly give.
“What?”
His chest rises and falls like he’s bracing for impact. “Orders came through. I didn’t tell you because—fuck, I don’t know. Because I wanted to give you a little more time before I ruined everything again.”
My throat closes. My heart splits open.
“Butterfly—”
I stumble back. “Don’t you dare call me that.”
“You almost died!” The scream rips out of me before I can stop it. “You almost fucking died, Dax! Do you remember that? Do you remember me holding your hand while you drowned in your own blood? The machines breathing for you because your body wouldn’t?”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t move. Of course he doesn’t. He stands there and absorbs it like he deserves every wound I give him.
“You think I can do that again?” My fists slam against his chest, again and again, useless and furious. “You think I can stand by another bed and watch you slip away?! You’ll kill me.”
He catches my wrists—not to stop me, but to steady me. His grip trembles.
“I don’t get to choose,” he finally says, voice rough and ruined. “This is what I am, Cass. It’s what I’ve always been. And I can’t stand here and pretend I’ll be whole if I stay behind while they go without me.”
“You’re not whole now!” My tears scald my cheeks. “You limp, you bleed, you wake up screaming. You didn’t come back whole—and now you want to risk what’s left?”
His breath shakes. His eyes burn. “If I don’t go back, I don’t know who the fuck I am.”
“And if you do—” My voice breaks, jagged. “If you do, who am I when they bring your body home in a box?”
Silence falls like smoke.
I shove him again—weak this time. “You’ll leave me. You’ll leave me, and I’ll never survive it.”
His eyes close. His jaw jumps.
When he finally speaks, it ruins me.
“Butterfly… I don’t want to leave you. Not ever.”
But he will.
In a week.
The reception lights blur. The music becomes noise. I can’t breathe.
I shove through the doors, the night air slapping my face. The garden glows gold behind me, blurred through tears.
“Cass!”
His voice.
The crunch of boots behind me.
“Cass, wait?—”
I spin, rage and heartbreak spilling out in one cracked scream. “You couldn’t just be happy with this, could you?!”
He freezes, chest rising, eyes burning like blue fire. “Happy? You think this is happiness? Sitting in a suit pretending I’m not still bleeding inside? That’s not me, Cass. It’s never been me!”
