“Even if it meant I didn’t live.”
I blink, releasing my tears as I return a slow nod.
His jaw clenches several times as his glassy eyes meet mine. Before me stands a man who feels guilty for being alive. I never wanted for him to feel this way, but my guilt nearly killed me. I honestly believe it played a leading role in my body succumbing to cancer.
“I still love you,” he whispers.
Biting my trembling lips together, I nod, wanting nothing more than to fall into his arms and sob. Of course he still loves me. I would never have said ‘yes’ to any man who didn’t love me so completely. As much as the old me wants this to be an epic moment about a woman who fell in love with two men, but ultimately chose the one she loved longer, it’s not.
I step closer to him and press my hand to his chest again. “I love youalways, Daniel. But no matter what my prognosis is, the Scarlet you proposed to? She died. I’m not her. I’m not going back to London with you—to that life—to Oscar. Over the past five months, I found this person I never knew existed, and I like her and so does my body.She’sthe Scarlet who is beating cancer.Shelives in the moment.Shedoesn’t own a single electronic device.Shesees life so differently.Shedoesn’t live with regret.”
My hand moves from his heart to his handsome face, wiping away his tears. “She… loves another man.”
Daniel collapses to the floor, hugging my waist. We’ve come full circle. I run my hands through his hair as he buries his face into my shirt and cries.
“Fuck you, Scarlet Stone. Fuck you for taking my heart. Fuck you for… for…” he sobs.
“Fuck me forliving,” I whisper as I fall to my knees and hug him.
Right now, in the middle of the worst kind of pain, I realize I’m not choosing Theo. He maynotlove me. We may forever benothing. I can live with that. I willlivewith that. I’m choosing to let go of the guilt and hold on to the sound of my own breath—breathing in, breathing out. I count them. Today, I choose Scarlet Stone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Theodore
Fourteen trips.
It takes fourteen trips to the old Asian guy’s place to deposit the plants that she left behind. He regards me through his screen door, wearing a “poor bastard” expression that I sure as fuck don’t need. But he says nothing. I didn’t ask him if he wants them. When I set the last two down, he eyes me for a few seconds, then he nods.
After three washings, I decide to burn the sheets from the pullout bed and her pillow. I refuse to smell her anymore. I throw out all of her food, even the shit that I’d normally eat. It’s hers and I don’t want it.
I swim.
I work.
I drink.
I get a new tattoo.
I watch porn on my computer. The really bad kind. No kissing or sensual shit—just hardcore fucking. Anything to forget about her.
Days get X’d on my calendar. My guns get cleaned and my knives get sharpened.
After two weeks, I’m still so fucking pissed. That was her plan… screw around and die. She could have died on me with my dick buried in her. I’d have been left fucking a corpse. The thought repulses me, so much so I expel the contents of my last six beers over the edge of the balcony.
After thirty minutes of recovery, I retrieve another six pack from the refrigerator.
Unzip my pants.
And watch more porn.
*
“Theo?”
I’m not ready for company. Nolan has the worst timing. “Upstairs,” I yell.
“Looks amazing.”
