No. Not like this.
Not again.
“Colter Slade, if you walk out that door, we aredone. Forever.” My voice wavers, but I force myself to stand tall, to not break. “Iwon’tcome back. Iwon’ttry to help you. Hell, Iwon’teven attend your funeral.” The words taste like poison, but I need him to hear them. To believe them.
I take a breath, steady my voice. “This time, it’syourchoice. You either go to rehab, or I walk.”
Silence.
Then, a slow, humorless chuckle leaves his lips. Cold. Detached. Dead inside.
“I don’t need rehab,” he mutters. Then he lifts his head, staring me down with vacant, bloodshot eyes. “And I’ll make it easier on you, since you’re struggling to let me go.” He steps toward the door. “I’m walking.”
He doesn’t even hesitate.
I feel it before I hear it.
The pain. A billion red-hot knives stabbing me in the chest, over and over, deeper and deeper, until I swear I’m bleeding out right here in front of him. I clutch at my heart, as if physically holding it will stop it from shattering.
It doesn’t work.
Colt turns one last time, his expression blank, his movements eerily slow, detached, like he’s already left me in his mind. “There’s a reason I never told you I loved you, you know.”
My breath catches.No. No, don’t do this.“Why?” My voice barely makes it out, a plea I already regret. I don’t want to know.
I can’t know.
He exhales, rubbing his jaw like this is inconvenient. Then he meets my eyes with a cold, calculated finality. “Because… Ineverloved you.”
The words slice through me, sharper than any blade, crueler than any wound he’s ever inflicted. He holds my gaze for a second longer. A second too long.
Then—
“Goodbye,Deliah Norman.” And with that, he walks out.
Out the door.
Out of my life.
Leaving nothing behind but the sound of my world caving in.
The door closes, sealing the deathly silence around me.
So this is what dying on the insidereallyfeels like.
Chapter Thirty-Three
There’s knocking on my door, but I can’t muster the energy to answer.
I’m on the floor where I collapsed afterheleft me, and I have no idea what to do. I’ve never felt such pain as I feel right now. I’m lying motionless on the carpet, gasping for air like I’ve been punched in the ribs, my fingers clutching desperately at my chest as if I can hold my shattered heart together with sheer will alone.
The tears fall too fast, too heavy, so relentless they burn tracks down my skin. I swear, I’ve cried out everything I have. There can’t be anything left.
But still, the sobs come.
Still, the emptiness spreads.
I don’t know how long I stay on the floor, but the knocking has stopped, and even though I knowheis next door, I can’t help but feel like I am a million miles away fromhim, and I always will be.
