Those had been some of the happiest days of my tortured existence.
Still facing the fire, my voice emerged softer, laced with bittersweet longing. “Isabelle was devoted to her husband and children. She was independent. Fiercely strong. Much like you are today, Olivia.”
I turned then, clasping my hands behind my back, letting the hearth’s warmth seep into my bones as though it could thaw the ache deep inside me.
A hollow smile curved my lips. “She never took my advances.” I exhaled a quiet laugh devoid of humor. “But I tried. God help me, how I tried.”
The memories tumbled through my mind like a gathering storm—relentless, inescapable.
“I couldn’t stop myself. The craving for her grew unbearable, insatiable. It burned like wildfire, devouring me whole.”
I lifted a hand as if I could hold those memories in my palm and preserve them before they crumbled to dust. Then, I pursed my lips and blew as though scattering the past to the winds.
“You have always been who you are, Olivia. The woman you were then is the woman you are now.” My voice dropped, quiet yet resolute. “And yet, the longing I felt for you all those centuries ago still lingers within me today.”
Our eyes met, and something electric crackled in the space between us—a silent storm brewing, thick with unspoken truths and irreparablewounds.
Before I could stop myself, I stepped closer, the pull of her like gravity itself.
I knelt before her, my fingers wrapping gently around hers. Every atom of my being ached for her and yearned for what had always been forbidden.
But all I could say was, “I knew I could never have you. That we could never be, yet… nothing could stop me from trying.”
Our gazes tangled, caught between the prison of the past and the unrelenting ache of the present.
It was excruciating to let myself be this vulnerable—this open. I had never allowed it before.
I released Olivia’s hand and stepped back, forcing distance between us.
“I backed off, realizing my attempts at seduction were in vain. Isabelle was too loyal to Armand and in love with him to betray him.” I let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “But then she let something slip. She and Armand were trying for another child.”
A sharp exhale. My hands curled into fists at the memory. “I became outraged.”
My gaze burned into the space between them as if reliving the moment. “‘This is pure foolishness,’ I had told Isabelle. ‘You’re both Timebornes. That puts your entire family in danger, but especially your children. They are Timebounds, which makes them the perfect targets for Timehunters.”
I shook my head, still feeling the heat of that argument as though it had happened yesterday. “We fought through the night, and neither of us backed down. She called me selfish. Accused me of trying to drive a wedge between her and Armand, of using fear and jealousy to manipulate her.”
I whirled to face them, my insides ablaze.
“Nothing could have been further from the truth.”
The truth of my words settled over the room. Olivia recoiled slightly, and Roman looked like I had driven a dagger straight through his gut.
“Family meant everything to Isabelle. She wouldn’t abandon her dream of more children, but eventually… she listened. She grew afraid. The truth of what I told her haunted her, and she wept over it. Night after night, she cried herself to sleep.”
My voice dipped into something raw, something fractured. “And I—” I exhaled sharply. “I did the only thing I could. I consoled her. Held her. That was all.”
My gaze flickered to Olivia, my past colliding with the present.
“Holding Isabelle,” I corrected, though sayinghername felt no different than the one I had just avoided.
I clenched my jaw, rubbing at the corners of my mouth. “But fearweakens even the strongest hearts. Grief, too. Isabelle grew fragile, burdened by the revelation of what I had told her.”
My throat tightened. “And my desire for her… it became unbearable. Unquenchable. Just as my darkness did.”
For a long moment, I stared past the sofa at the cold stone walls of the room. But I saw nothing. Nothing but the ghosts of that night.
Then, I turned my gaze to Olivia—cold, hollow, and filled with the agony of my confession.
